October 1980 

Having completed training at Kapooka and Singleton, we were now fully qualified Infantry soldiers. Which meant that we had marched out of Singo having completed our training program as qualified trainees. A badge of pride.

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Which of course meant next to nothing marching into our new Unit.

We were again the lowest rung in the food chain. New diggers, fit, varying attitudes from keen to barely interested, and with questionable skills in barracks and the field. Too often in the first few months we are in the Unit after doing training on radios, weapons, Infantry tactics, first aid we were admonished with looks of despair from the NCOs – what do they teach you at Singleton? Did you actually learn this weapon?

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The answer was yes – we had basic skills and somewhat limited retention of skills we had been taught. As a basic trained soldier, we had no expertise. We were competent and had learnt to a standard to pass a weapons tests, or range qualification practise, but had a quick drop off of skills because having learnt a new skill for the first time, we then were taught something else from scratch. Skill retention was the problem.

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In the Unit, this was about to change, as we went through an annual training program that reviewed core skills, worked at Section, then Platoon and Company and culminated in Unit training. But like everything, it was time, repetition and practise that entrenched those skills in diggers and sections.

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Regardless of our real ability to soldier, we were now diggers in the First Battalion, Royal Australian Regiment. Affectionately known as The Big Blue One.

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Charlie Company 

Fifteen of us marched into the unit from Singo. And about 10 of us dropped into Charlie Company. We marched into BHQ, did required Pay paperwork, then arrived at Charlie. Greeted by the CSM, my PLSGT Larry North. The day is pretty much a blur. Move into our Lines with what we’ve got with us, noting our trunks arrive in a week or two. Meet our section and then get a tour around the unit area.

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At Final parade SGT North gives Phil Graham, Ed McDonald and the other live in guys clear instructions to take us all to the boozer. So, we head to the ORs Mess for dinner and have a feed.

 

And then, somewhat reluctantly as a nondrinker, I headed down to The Boozer.

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Day 1 at The Patrick Bugden VC Club or The Boozer is an interesting experience. It's like Day 1 in Prison, which most of the Queensland diggers would understand. 19-22 year old kids, mostly knowing nothing and heading to a boozer where the oldest, crustiest, less refined members of the unit reside. The old Grunts with their own seat, their own table and their own lack of regard for fresh faced new diggers. And their stink eye greeting made you feel less than welcome.

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We knew our place. Don’t interact, don’t talk, don’t make eye contact.

In the 80s we often had diggers in the Battalion offered a military career by a Magistrate – Join the Army or Go to Jail. The Boozer seemed to define that career opportunity. 

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Luckily the bar staff weren't as judging. So, it’s NQ and it’s XXXX, XXXX or XXXX. Now I've seen the Tap water from Adelaide and bathed in the Yarra. But I liken 1980 XXXX to the quality of water in the Penang Strait, slightly off colour, a pungent aroma and a strong after taste. All in all, a horrific experience. 8 rounds of XXXX as a nondrinker was enough for me to consider my Corps options.

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Day 2 followed like Day 1, this time learning the art of hiding from Work Parties. And then Larry instructed the Senior Digs to take us back down the boozer. Another 8 rounds of XXXX.

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On Day 3 I put the skills I learnt hiding from work parties into use and hid. I ventured out from hiding at 2300, knowing the boozer shut at 2200.

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Welcome to the Big Blue One.