Life on the Run by Stan Eldon Read Free Book Online Page B

go well, and on the Whit Holiday I ran my first of many races at the White City. I was only just eighteen, but ran for Berkshire in the Inter Counties meeting as I had won the county three mile in a new record time of 14:43.6. I finished ninth out of the twenty-nine taking part, behind a man who I was to clash with many times in the future, Gordon Pirie. In the Reading Trophies Meeting, held at Palmer Park, Reading, in June, I won the Junior mile against a field of thirty-six runners, including John Herring, who was ranked second in the country at the distance in the previous season, and many county champions. It was a very wet weekend, and according to reports of the day, the track was largely underwater. In those days of cinder tracks, if it was wet it normally meant finishing a race with half the track sprayed up your back, and running on this type of track almost turned into cross-country running.
    I continued to run for the club and breaking records right up to my call-up in the second week of July. My club records at that time were 880 yards, 2:0.6; mile, 4:23.2; two miles, 9:28.5, and three miles, 14:43.6.
    I finished third in the Southern Counties mile at Battersea Park with 4:23.2, behind Roger Dunkley 4:19 (the fastest ever junior miler at that stage with 4:12), and Laurie Reed 4:22. My very last match before entering the Army, was against Finchley Harriers and Watford Harriers. I won the mile again in 4:23.2, and the 880 yards in 2:0.6. This latter record was my thirteenth for the club.

Chapter Four: National Service in the Redcaps
    The next step in my life was National Service, and I remember being asked to list my choices in order of preference. I did select the Army and listed my top choice as the Horse Guards, who were stationed at the bottom of my garden; although that was not the reason for that choice. They had a very good athletic team at that time, and I had got to know their sergeant major PE instructor, as he coached at the athletic club. My second choice was logical, it was the Military Police, because I intended picking up my police career when I finished my two years’ service.
    My call-up came in early July 1954, just two months after my eighteenth birthday. Where was I going, and what unit was I going to? It was none of my preferred choices; not even number six on the list. I was off to Catterick Camp and the 3 rd Signals Regiment. It was pretty tough there, being kept on the go all day with square-bashing, and being woken as early as 5 a.m. on the whim of some little corporal. The food was terrible. I don’t think I have ever had anything anywhere to come even close to the shocking standard of food at Catterick Camp.
    Fortunately this did not last long as after two weeks of square-bashing and guard duty (we were not let loose with rifles but carried pickaxe handles as our weapons), and where on one occasion I was in trouble for allowing the Yorkshire sheep to enter the barracks and attack the colonel’s roses, I was summoned by the unit commander and told I was on the move. He was not happy because I had kept my athletic prowess quiet, and at the same time he received the orders to ship me out, he had received a letter from the secretary of my athletic club at Windsor, Len Runyard, who was possibly the nearest I ever had to a coach. It explained how good I was and could expect to be, and asking that I be allowed to continue my progress in the Army. The Signals Regiment had a very good reputation for looking after sportsmen, and they had rugby league players, footballers and Ken Norris, whom I subsequently took the British record for six miles from, had also been at Catterick a couple of years earlier, as were several league footballers, rugby league players and boxers.
    I was off to Inkerman Barracks, Woking, in Surrey; the training centre and headquarters of the Royal Military Police; returning south, where I would be only a short journey from my then girlfriend Marion at Windsor. The