Rita

Rita is President of the village W.I. She’s a lovely kind lady with an indomitable spirit. Her husband had cancer a few years ago and she was his rock. Which seems a bit of a pun when you consider he runs a haulage company transferring huge amounts of Cornwall on a daily basis. Their staff are wonderful, highly experienced and have a routine at the end of each day. The vehicles are always washed inside and out, consequently they are immaculate. Rita owns a Ford “Mexico,” and is an accomplished driver in her own right.  

I wrote about Podge Overbury and Andy O’Pray relieving the Tanganyikan forces of the necessity to polish their mess silver. Their charitable donation to 45 Cdo Sgt’s Mess will remain in our memories. Thank you. :-))

I met Andy O’Pray in early 1977. I was a young upstart Sgt pilot aged 24, he was a very experienced and highly respected Sgt Major of a fighting company. I had already experienced a bit of resentment from Sgt pilots at my rapid rise to their rank without having “done my time.” There was scope for Andy to dislike me but we chatted amicably and had a respectful relationship. The unit was training for the 1977 tour of Belfast. Unusually Montforterbeek Flight, the flight of three Gazelle helicopters attached to 45, were to accompany the Commando and support 45 and all the other ground units in the city. For a young man this was a challenging time. This was to be my first experience across the water. The unit was given Turf Lodge and the surrounding area as their ‘patch,’ a bad area. 

I was apprehensive but flooded with the desire to prove I could do the job. Within a few days of arriving all four pilots were so busy learning our new tasks and territory that we melded as a flight and were on track for a difficult but successful tour. On 12 August I was on a task, following a known terrorist, when I was diverted and tasked with providing ‘top cover’ for a foot patrol which was scheduled to enter the Turf, as it was known. We had five different radios for the city units and higher echelons. Suddenly the section commander on the ground called out a contact report. One of his Marines had been shot. IRA snipers would slide a roof tile up, shoot, slide the tile back then run between the eaves of the houses, a rat run was usually knocked through the brickwork to assist their escape. We saw nothing, no unusual movement or firing point. I offered to land in the street and get the man to hospital, about three minutes away. All I remember the Corporal replying was, “Not this time.” I was devastated, angry, appalled. 

That night the whole Commando invaded the Turf and kicked in every door. That was a dark period, my boss talked me through it and did his best to lift my spirits, I felt I had let down the 19 year old who had been shot. Andy O’Pray was his Sgt Major. Each year, once Andy and I left the Corps and computers enabled easier communications, we emailed each other on the 12th August, got it out of our systems and had a tot. We will remember them.