MilitaryForums.co.uk

Idea 'borrowed' from OAMAAM (stealing is juvenile and chad):

1. You could get 5 pints for a pound.
2. Petrol hit 50p a gallon.
3. Bars down Union Street had Wurlitzer type juke boxes.
4. I thought I could trap by telling the ladies I was a Marine.
5. I usually ended up getting a taxi to Seaton cut off.

Rogue Chef wrote: 2. Petrol hit 50p a gallon.

Was that new money or old money?

Rogue Chef wrote:Idea 'borrowed' from OAMAAM (stealing is juvenile and chad):

1. You could get 5 pints for a pound.

you auld git Even in 1980 5 pints in the Naafi would have cost £1.75 (35p a pint)

LB,

1976ish in my local a pint of Skol was 20p. I was gutted when it went up to 21p a pint because that meant breaking into another pound. That said, it did force my introduction to Burtons Dark Mild. At only 16p a pint it was a bargain and a

materpiece

.

I could have tried to nick it, but that would have been juvenile and chad, even for me.

Minstrels were called Treats and melted in your mouth, not in your hand!

Pacers were called Opal Mints.

Nestles was 'Nestles' and not 'Nesslay'.

Wagon Wheels were...
and you could get a leg over for a pair of nylons.

Minstrels were a load of wannabee ethnics (JR still thinks of them as wandering musicians!)
Pacer was another shite American car
Nestles was what you did with fat gronks in the HW cleaning bay
Loz was the first bit of totty on here
Artiste still had piles and a dry set of overalls
Mr Hackedorff still lived in England
I wasn't scared of No6
I could hide in the Ladies Heads
And most important, we all farking got along!

SH

I can remember a time when petrol was !/- gallon or 5p
I can when it cost 3p to go to the pictures or when you could buy a packet of five cigarettes. I remember watching the the dog fights over southern England and when you had to carry ID cards along with your gas mask.

Ten number 6 were 10p, ten number 10 were 8p. How do I know this? Easy! As come day one of joining the RM's at Deal in Kent I was offered a ciggy from another recruit in the NAFFI and like a fool accepted it! Next day there I was in the NAAFI buying 20 Number 6!

17 years, 6 months and 3 days old I was when I joined the Corps of Royal Marines. 3 July 1973. Nearly all of the recruits who joined back then smoked so I being a pillock decided to join in with the majority!

I also drank two bottles of Newcastle Brown on that first night at Deal and wondered why me bed kept revolving 360 degrees when I lay down in it!

In November 1975 (whilst on R & R from NI) I was timed by me Oppos and two bods from the Guinness off records in Torquay glopping a pint of bitter in 1.4 seconds..............Yes the Marines did change me a tad!

Artist

And most important, we all farking got along!

Now that was a long time ago.
Possibly in a Galaxy far, far away.

Rouge, Maybe in a parallel universe,but I do remember it !.
(To avoid one liner doobry wattsitt)
I remember when nearly every lad at school carried a penknife and nobody thought of stabbing each other.
Air pistol fights in the woods at school and teachers just saying be carefull, and no armed response team turning out.
Walking through the village with an uncovered shotgun over your arm and it being an everyday normal part of life.
And shooting gypos lurchers and expecting no comeback from the police.

SH,
Air pistol fights with the Gat!
A parka was reckoned to provide the best protection!

Never shot a gypo though!

What about making the world's biggest 'genie' out of the contents of fireworks?

If armed with a Gat you were at a severe disadvantage when up against the 'rich' kids armed with Webley Premier pistols,thats when fieldcraft came into play!.

All us farm kids bringing Rook Scarers into school to make one big black powder bomb,and then trying to look nonchalant after a huge bang and a cloud of smoke wafted across the playing fields.

Climbing 60 foot trees to get Rooks eggs,and climbing back down with them in your mouth,and no tree hugging twats to complain about it.

Swopping the above eggs to the fat wheezy boys who were to scared to climb up to get them.

And shooting Greys Squirrels to get 2/- (10p) for their tails from the Forestry Commission office.

No wonder we didn't need to do a PRMC,it was just a natural progression!.

Sh,
What's the going rate nowadays?
My loft was infested with the little blighters a couple of years ago.
I nailed a couple with my BSA Airsporter but never thought to sell their tails!