About this time a new face appeared on the scene, a real live regular soldier, Sergeant Millen, an infantry regular I believe but from what regiment I don't know and he was going to change us into an efficient military unit. He was always perfectly turned out, his uniform spotless, creased where it should be but otherwise creaseless. He was a disciplinarian and he certainly made a difference to us but one thing always intrigued me -- his facial expression. I never saw him smile or laugh, in fact I could never detect the slightest change in his expression that would denote any emotion. Later in the war I believe he earned a commission; perhaps he enjoyed life and had some fun but one could never tell. I'm not certain how many vehicles made up our transport section, I know we had Morris and Austin utility vans, a five ton lorry and some 30cwt Bedford lorries whose gearboxes had a peculiar and distinctive whine. The Bedfords were usually the workhorses of the Line Section while the utilities were the general runabouts used for work and pleasure. We had one officer, a major, who was over-fond of his liquor, he used to frequent The Mauritania in Park Street; late at night he would phone and in a slurred voice demand that a utility van and driver be sent to pick him up. This happened on many occasions and one night when he arrived back at HQ he staggered into the guard room and with a drawn hand gun proceeded to hold up the guard. He was disarmed and a report made out. The sequel? I don't know, we didn't see him again. Originally we had all signed on for home service but after the war started we were asked to agree to serve overseas, this we all did, signing to this effect. Looking back I don't suppose it would have made any difference had we declined, after all those who were conscripted were not given the choice but it was a nice gesture on our parts. Having now become reasonably proficient in those military essentials, marching, saluting and rifle drill the next step was to go on a range and fire a few rounds. The nearest rifle range was at Bristol University and a group of about 12 of us was taken there on a most unmilitary vehicle, a soft drinks lorry. This had no tailboard or sideboards to speak of and we all stood up on the flat bed, the front row holding on to the back of the cab and the rest holding on to each other. We made the double journey without losing anyone. The rifle range was indoors and we fired .22 rimfire from a standard .303 rifle fitted with a Morris tube. I believe we only fired 10 rounds each, with moderate success, but that was the only time I fired a rifle until 1942. PLYMOUTH