This tale was related to me by Richard Massey, ex 5th Camerons Anti-Tank company. Late 1944 on leave from Holland. It was told whilst in the company of ladies and as such was toned down a bit. However I think you will get the drift. Big Jack MacDougall was an elderly 27 and Richard Massey was 19 at the time. “We had been sent on leave, 72 hour pass, and went to Brussels. At a place called “Cosy Rosy’s”. We were being entertained, by a not unattractive lady, stripping her clothes and performing various acts of, shall I say, a sexual nature. The audience consisted of mainly British and American soldiers. I was with big Jack MacDougall, he was a bit of a hero to me, big in the sense that he was over six feet tall, Muscled and square chinned, and fearless. When the young lady had gotten our un-divided attention, she asked if anyone would like to “perform” with her in what might be described as a horizontal position, on the table top. Low and behold an American, who was not exactly a shy, quiet, retiring type, yelled he would love to, and proceeded to “perform” with the lady in question. Big Jack then said , This boy needs some help with penetration. Big Jack took the long last drag on his cigarette and proceeded to stub it out between the cheeks of the Americans backside. He went one way the table and lady the other. All hell broke loose. Big Jack said you line em up Massey and I’ll sort em, and he did. The place was absolutely wrecked. The biggest problem was getting away from the MP’s.”
The story rings absolutely true. Weren't the Americans there to distract the Scots from fighting with each other ? My Grandfather was with 2nd Northamptons in 17 Bde and he always maintained that they were usually positioned in such a way as to keep 2 RSF and 6th Seaforths out of punching distance of each other.
That has got to be one of the best stories I have ever read on here......Even my girlfriend is laughing ! Cheers Andy
Invariably the Camerons would be fighting either the Seaforths or more usually The Black Watch. Even at the front line, as the Camerons moved through the Watch they would all start bleating like sheep muttering, "Sheep Sh****rs". If the Yanks were about they would be best of friends again. On their return to their unit, on parade, Cpt Dougie Beaton, MC, clocked Richard Massey's shiner trying to hide under his Glengarry. Never said a word and carried on the inspection, He got the eye from Sgt Mjr Mackay, (he sadly passed away last week aged 91).Massey was fearing a right royal rollicking. Cpt Beaton returned down the rank behind and came up behind Massey asking; "You been chopping wood in bed Massey?" "Something like that sir" "Tell me, did you get him?" "Oh, I got him big time sir" "Well done lad, I'm proud of you" Sgt Mjr Mackay walked away shaking his head. Richard Massey swears that it is true!!!
Aye it sounds about right..........My dad was in the 2nd Seaforths and told a few tails like that..........................first thing thats put a smile on my face this year
Thought I would add this from my Fathers memoirs. 5th Camerons had just returned to England, after the North Africa and Sicily campaigns, to be prepared for Normandy. 51st HD were billeted around North London in a semi-circle, with 5th Camerons in Hertford. Fight 2 "From Gourock 51st Highland Division was billeted around the North of London, from Slough, in a semi-circle to Hertford, with the 5th Camerons billeted in Hertford, the citizens of which gave us a hero’s welcome. Once we had sewn the ribbon of the Africa Star on our uniforms, we received more than one free drink in the local pubs. We then received our disembarkation leave and I made my way to Ipswich to see Joan and her family. On arrival in Ipswich, I found the place swarming with Yanks. Queuing on the local Taxi rank in Lloyds Avenue, the cabbies were picking up the Yanks first, obviously ripping them off money wise. I was carrying full kit, rifle, the lot, wearing the Kilt. It did not take long for the comments and wolf whistles to start, then two yanks decided to jump the queue. I gave them a mouthful to which they took exception and started towards me. There then followed a bit of a scuffle. I cracked the first one right between the eyes with a right hander and caught the other one under the chin with the butt of my rifle. I left the two of them lying in one of the exits from what was the Odeon cinema, only to turn around to find two police officers standing there. They asked me to accompany them to the police station. I received a warning about my conduct but I just told them if they did not get me a Taxi I would go out and get one even if it meant shooting some bugger. Eventually a Taxi arrived and took me to Joan’s house. The Taxi driver said there would be “no charge”, as the Yanks would pay. I recall that Joan’s mother had saved her meat rations up and had managed to get me a pork chop. Alas I could not eat it; it was just too rich. She could not understand that my diet for the past year or more had consisted of hard tack, (I hadn’t realised that there were so many ways of preparing Corned Beef) and then in Sicily, the new Compo rations. The biscuits that we were given defied any attempt to bite pieces off them. They invariably had holes bored through them by weevils or whatever. We thought that they would be better used as armour plating on the roof of our dugouts. They had to be soaked in some way before they were remotely edible. My saving grace with my future Mother-in-law being the fact that I had brought a few fresh, hand picked lemons home from Sicily. As they had not seen much fresh fruit of any description since the first year of the war, fresh lemons were a major wonder. At night, Joan’s mother would get her children into the air raid shelter. She was more than a bit annoyed that I refused to go with them, preferring to sleep in a comfortable bed. It seemed to me to be far less hazardous than what I had had to endure. If I were going to die, I would at least be comfortable. Apparently, it was I, who kept them awake, rather than the air raids or possibility of air raids. I was constantly screaming out in my sleep reliving all the horrors that I had seen and endured". Fight 3 "I returned to Hertford just before Christmas, and so no real serious training ensued until after the New Year celebrations. During our stay in Hertford, the King, the Queen, and the two Princesses visited 5th Camerons. The King inspected 5th Camerons (who were all wearing the Kilt) on the cricket ground at St Albans. Such persons as, Generals Eisenhower and Montgomery also visited us. I had to take my turn on ‘shore patrol’, as part of the Regimental Police, which basically meant, keeping the peace between the Jocks and the Yanks when they were out on the town. Me and another Squaddie met up with two Snowdrops, so called because of their distinctive white helmets, who were American Military Police. One of them had been a sergeant with the Chicago Police before the war. These two guys couldn’t believe that we could go out on patrol unarmed, as they always carried a riot stick and pistol as minimum protection. They were soon amazed to see us wading into troublemakers with our webbing belts wrapped around our fists with the buckle to the top. A few days later a new group of Yanks turned up, (chests covered with medal ribbons but had seen no action) and decided to have some fun baiting the Jocks. Wolf whistles and various other remarks were, by and large, ignored, until one of our boys decided to threaten one particular Yank. Then a comment came back that we would run away, “like we had at Dunkirk”. Remembering that the original 51st Highland Division had been sacrificed at St. Valery in 1940, in an attempt to keep the French fighting, it was probably the worst statement anybody could make. We were in a pub at the time and it turned out to be one of the craziest fights I was ever to be involved in. It was like a scene out of a western film. There were bodies flying through the windows, crashing through doors until we finally spilled out into the street and really went quite mad. I doubt if those Yanks ever had to face a harder fight throughout the rest of the war, we probably did them a favour in toughening them up. The next morning we were up in front of the C.O. for leaving litter in the street. He explained that if we were to fight the Yanks we were to leave them up an alley out of sight, otherwise the next time he would put us all on report. I quite enjoyed some of the tasks during my time with the regimental Police. I used to get the town square ready for the pipes and drums to beat retreat on a Wednesday afternoon, early closing day for the shops".
A ex-'bootneck' related the following: In a bar on the outskirts of some Mediterranean port a group of Royal Marines encountered a group of U.S. Marines. After a few drinks and some banter between the Marines one U.S. Marine asked a Royal what the R. M. on his shoulder flash stood for. The answer giver was "REAL Marines, mate". Cue much breaking of furniture and faces. Anyone with a right mind wouldn't argue with 'Big Jack' from the photo.
Hold on... I think, I've got the Welsh side to this story with an another account of 'Big Jack's antics at these places. Will need to trawl through my books and accounts... but I'm pretty sure its the same chap!
Heard another one from a friends Father, he is 93 years young. In a bar in Belgium somewhere a squaddie was bashing out a tune or two on the old piano when a Yank asked him if he could play the Dunkirk Retreat? No. came the answer but I can play the Pearl Harbour attack. Wallop!!!!!
