It was Brecon somewhere. When I went through South Cerney we had to hitch-hike there. It was dead easy then in uniform. A few years previously part of the course was to be let loose and hitch-hike as far as you could in 24 hours. Some people got as far as Scotland. They stopped it when somebody went to Brize; talked his way onto a USAF transport and got as far as Denver.
Last edited by Fareastdriver; 13th May 2012 at 14:54.
Location: Squirrel Heaven (or hell!), Shropshire UK
All I can remember of it was that it rained the entire time we were there; the duckboards (laid to keep the staff dry!?) floating away and a b****y great hill that we seemed to have to run up every ten minutes. Oh, and Sonny H****s standing in the rain and mud in a gas cape (what we were issued with for 'rain protection'), fast asleep and holding one of said duckboards when we were packing up to leave!
218 course camped in the Black Mountains in the valley west of the main valley through Llanthony, at a place called Mynnyd Du (black mountain). The lane in the valley, which is a dead-end, runs up to Grwyne Fawr reservoir.
I've no idea how to copy the OS map and put it here!
Having been there a couple of times recently the actual campsite appears to be covered with conifers. Rough Grid Ref: SO254281 on OS Explorer Map OL13.
My mate Dave who was on 205 said their site was in the Brecon Beacons near Pen-y-Fan.
I was on 207 course and, yes, we had to climb Pen Y Fan. There must have been road access to get all the tents up to the camp site, and there was a (cold) stream nearby. My best guess would go for the valley 345 degrees, 1.2 nm from the Pen Y Fan marker on Google Earth, with "Stricker's Hill" directly to the north-east. Makes me cold and tired to even think about it.
TENTS?!?!?!?!? By God you had it easy. We had to meet up at a grid ref on a road and were then told to look after ourselves until the morning. We found a friendly Welsh farmer who plied us with Scrumpie so we didn't notice the discomfort of his barn. IIRC was about the third night we got a tent.
Ah yes, but.... A night exercise, lots of walking and finally crossing the (almost frozen) stream; everybody had sodden boots and trousers. Then the message came that the camp had been "destroyed", and the only shelter was a single-skin parateepee. When you have to scrape the ice off your boots in the morning.... And up until a year before I'd been growing up in Oz.
203 Course, and Pen Y Fan definitely rings a bell for a week spent in or above cloud in late October or early November. Fortunately, memory seems to have erased the gorier detail, and it's not a place I've sought out since.
Edited to add that there was a stream running through the site and, on arrival, the Flt Cdrs assured our Borders lad, brought up on tickling trout etc, that there were no fish in it. With the aid of a Tilley lamp, he proved them wrong during the final night and, as the kitchen detail, we served his catch for their breakfast in the morning.
I remember a stream/river in a deep ravine adjacent to the camp site that we had to cross by constructing a rope-bridge or "death" slide. In addition, there was a large tree on the site that we had to haul a heavy log up into the upper branches. On Sunday we marched to a church/chapel that had ancient wall paintings as decoration. The it all becomes a blur!!
205 Cse. I remember a place called something like 'Pen-Gloch-y-Pbr'*, it was all b****y grim. Carting 12' ash poles for miles over snow/ice/bog to put up parateepees - Oh Frabjious Joy! The Hydra-burners(?) that had willful minds of their own and would become incandescant at the drop of a gnats f**t!
Middle of winter and they had the b****y nerve to call it "A Safari"