This is a truly heartwarming story. Hugh finding where you fit in the camp, and connecting with such a wonderful influence in Brian Buggy. May he rest in peace. Thanks for this wonderful story.
Oops!! sent before I finished. Brian Buggy was a great compassionate man that made life better for many. Brian was one of those people that made a difference for the better in many peoples’ life.
Hugh playing in the school cadet band was something to be admired. Keeping playing that Cornet RIP Brian Buggy
As usual: some people send emails instead fo comments for all to enjoy.
I liked this one:
Best yet for memories . Thank you , you never run out of topics.
I have literally hundreds of stories I can tell -- so I'd better hurry up, as I'm 83.
Unlike our media, I like to be unpredictable so no one can guess what I might write about next.
And no politics, of course.
And for those worried about my bein dropped from the under-15 Is (the ninth best) I should add someone else sent a picture of me in the Gregory Terrace First XV where I ended up fullback.
Greenbank. Still have several sharp memories of the activities. Intelligence platoon, three stripes, in 1958. A three leg, 5,000 yard night compass march, no weapons. And no moon, no torches, no matches. The Cadet Under-Officer who laid it out didn't actually cover the course in daylight looking for problems, he plotted it on an ordnance map.
It was a good thing that we were in winter battledress, reasonably thick wool. I walked straight into a five strand barb wire fence. No damage. But one of the youngsters behind me, not so lucky. Some of the smaller trees had been cut. He found, the hard way, a 2 inch sapling that had been cut at just crotch height. It was not funny at the time.
BSHS Cadet unit was affiliated with a CMF anti-tank outfit. They brought two guns into camp on the weekend. Saturday night the Intelligence Platoon and the Band had to provide pickets for the camp, and the guns also had to be 'protected', two cadets at a time, one hour shifts. We didn't have the manpower. I had them wake me at 0200, and from then till 0500, it was one cadet each hour and myself. I found that a person who is tired enough can sleep on the trail of a 25 pounder field gun. "If anybody comes this way, wake me up, fast."
Added: Feb 24, 2025. I'm still in touch with that "Cadet Under-officer". We exchange annual reports on what we've been up to. I included the bit about the fence in the 2024 letter. He remembered - he walked into it himself.
In later life he went into orienteering, take a map and compass and run cross country. The orienteering club in Brisbane celebrated their 50th anniversary last year. He was the only member present who had also been at the club's first meeting.
Remind me to tell you some time about my ill thought out joining of the Army Reserve while at uni. The only boots left were leftover from WW11 and had leather soles with no grip whatsoever.
Yes Adrienne, Australian Army boots were made for slipping in!
The American boots in Vietnam were fanbloodytastic -- so , I believe, Australians started wearing their boots when they got to Vietnam They didn't rot in the tripics.
I drew my cadet uniform the same year that Hugh did, 1955. The boots weren't all that bad. But here in the US? One of the outfits that I wear in town is an 1881 US Cavalry uniform. Had a lady seamstress make the trousers for me. Authentic, including the button up fly. Ouch! It's been many years. Can you visualize returning to a world without zippers?
I lived in Texas in the 90's. Went to all sorts of fun historical events where people wore all sorts of things. Not necessarily "to town" I don't suppose unless you count Colonial Williamsburg where they definitely did. That was towards the end of it's heyday.
Why would wear an 1881 US Cavalry uniform to town?
Tombstone, Arizona Territory (Statehood, 1912). A 'tourist' town, everyone has a camera. The chap who organized the Tombstone Cavalry "recruited" me when we first arrived in town and provided most of my equipment. We marched in parades. It sort of fell apart later. The Captain's emails went out to over 70 addresses. We were lucky to get a dozen show up for parades. Then - the Captain became head of the local Masonic Lodge, and a year later became the Colonel (top rank in the state) of the Arizona Rangers. His time was really taken up. One 'parade' - just three of us, and three 'camp follower' ladies. We didn't 'march', we 'strolled', arm-in-arm with the ladies.
I've worn the uniform several times since then, and 'acted' the part. Had a "Buffalo Soldier" officer step out of a store in front of me one day. I saluted, he returned it. Probably looked pretty good to anyone watching.
(Caught up? Ouch!!) (I'll see if I can find some photographs. Attach them to an email. Might take a week or so.)
A great read, Hugh. I never learnt to play a musical instrument as my parents considered that I lacked talent. How the devil they came to that conclusion I have no idea. Perhaps it was the hole I put in my little tin drum by banging it too much. I made sure all my kids learnt to play. My firstborn daughter played (or is that 'plaid'?) the bagpipes for years and at age 16 played Auld Lang Syne to welcome the New Year at the 37th Australian Jazz Convention at Geelong in 1981. Aah, the thrill of it!
I had a little tin drum too Peter -- and, like you ,I loved to bang it.
I think certain traits are passed on in the DNA. One day a descendant of Brian Buggy's will be a brilliant musician; and of Kenny Fletcher a fantastic tennis player. But -- as horse breeders know -- it can skip generations. Ken's daughter tried tennis but didn't have his ability.
What connections are made between people who are willing to slow down and listen. Brian Buggy must have been an empathetic boy, before he grew into an empathetic man. After I got to the end of your wide-ranging short story, two things surprised: how do you march to Mockingbird Hill or a Glen Miller tune? I tried it while humming in the kitchen, and it's too fast.
That first sentence, Aunty Hele, should be carved into marble somewhere!
A good question on Mockingbird Hill. You can't march to it -- but you can do the "Slow March" where each foot is slowly pushed forward instead of picked up and stamped into the ground.
It's used at Passing Out Parades to amazed the audience: the sort of opposite to the German "goosestep".
For the same reason, Buggy's Band would do intricate manoeuvres while playing -- with each line breaking off and going a different way -- and suddenly coming back into formation again at the last minute.
Another trick was: we would play a piece of music with only 15 beats.
"Parade will advance in review order" and 325 cadets would march forward and all stop right on the 15th beat.
Youre right Aunty Helen. In the Mood wasn't for arching to. In fact, I know for a fact that it is impossible.
The day before a Terrace Passing Out Parade (a big occasion) the Band had to keep playing and playing as the 325 cadets marched and marched to get everything right.
Our lips were getting sore and Captain Landener came over to complain about the music we weren't producing.
Brian Buggy was away that day, so a bloke who owned his own trumpet (amazing he had the name Watt Tyler) suggested we get some of our own back.
The next time the Drum Major raised his Mace we playing "In the Mood" -- all those cadets tried to march to it and went racing across the parade ground like wound-up toys.
Landener was furious I couldn't help but laugh. He threatened to "wrap that trumpet (it was a cornet) around your face".
Good to hear about a spot of rebellion in the ranks. I recall reading about a british general in WW2 complaining about Australian troops not doing things "by the book".
We took a big risk Graham -- six of the best with a leather strap could have resulted.
Hugh
PS: Thanks for your pics of you dressed in US Cavalry uniform back in 1880-odd. I was very glad to learn that the yellow stripe down the side of the Unio army trousers denoted rank!
This is a truly heartwarming story. Hugh finding where you fit in the camp, and connecting with such a wonderful influence in Brian Buggy. May he rest in peace. Thanks for this wonderful story.
You're welcome to it Blake. That's why I write them -- because no one else is going to.
hugh
Look for an email: "From Graham - PHOTOGRAPHS" - sent about an hour ago.
Oops!! sent before I finished. Brian Buggy was a great compassionate man that made life better for many. Brian was one of those people that made a difference for the better in many peoples’ life.
Hugh playing in the school cadet band was something to be admired. Keeping playing that Cornet RIP Brian Buggy
Well Hugh what a beautiful tribute to a great man, musician and teacher
That's why I love good teachers Sheryl ... none of us would be anywhere without them!
Hugh
As usual: some people send emails instead fo comments for all to enjoy.
I liked this one:
Best yet for memories . Thank you , you never run out of topics.
I have literally hundreds of stories I can tell -- so I'd better hurry up, as I'm 83.
Unlike our media, I like to be unpredictable so no one can guess what I might write about next.
And no politics, of course.
And for those worried about my bein dropped from the under-15 Is (the ninth best) I should add someone else sent a picture of me in the Gregory Terrace First XV where I ended up fullback.
You never know what ill happen in life.
Hugh
Well, I never knew until now, why the “Slouched Hat” had one side turned up!
On another front, not quite a war front- Am so pleased to know the success Brian Buggy had in his career and life.
So deserved, from caring so much about his music to impart it to so many.
Sad to hear of his passing.
Gay S.
Other nations don't need to turn the side of their hat up -- because they have no brims ... or they don't "shoulder arms"!
But because we live under a hot sun, we need a wide brim -- but still practised British Army drill.
I sent that story off to The Australian, but didn't expect them to take it up.
Every story these days is political -- that's why I don't write them.
Once journalists were supposed to be apolitical.
Now, you know what they will say on any particular issue just by looking at the Masthead.
Hugh
Greenbank. Still have several sharp memories of the activities. Intelligence platoon, three stripes, in 1958. A three leg, 5,000 yard night compass march, no weapons. And no moon, no torches, no matches. The Cadet Under-Officer who laid it out didn't actually cover the course in daylight looking for problems, he plotted it on an ordnance map.
It was a good thing that we were in winter battledress, reasonably thick wool. I walked straight into a five strand barb wire fence. No damage. But one of the youngsters behind me, not so lucky. Some of the smaller trees had been cut. He found, the hard way, a 2 inch sapling that had been cut at just crotch height. It was not funny at the time.
BSHS Cadet unit was affiliated with a CMF anti-tank outfit. They brought two guns into camp on the weekend. Saturday night the Intelligence Platoon and the Band had to provide pickets for the camp, and the guns also had to be 'protected', two cadets at a time, one hour shifts. We didn't have the manpower. I had them wake me at 0200, and from then till 0500, it was one cadet each hour and myself. I found that a person who is tired enough can sleep on the trail of a 25 pounder field gun. "If anybody comes this way, wake me up, fast."
Once again, Graham, you and I have been following each other around.
Even to Greenbank Army camp at the same time!
I'm very glad we didn't have to do a 5000-yard night march with no lights.
Hugh
Added: Feb 24, 2025. I'm still in touch with that "Cadet Under-officer". We exchange annual reports on what we've been up to. I included the bit about the fence in the 2024 letter. He remembered - he walked into it himself.
In later life he went into orienteering, take a map and compass and run cross country. The orienteering club in Brisbane celebrated their 50th anniversary last year. He was the only member present who had also been at the club's first meeting.
Remind me to tell you some time about my ill thought out joining of the Army Reserve while at uni. The only boots left were leftover from WW11 and had leather soles with no grip whatsoever.
Another good read, Hugh.
Yes Adrienne, Australian Army boots were made for slipping in!
The American boots in Vietnam were fanbloodytastic -- so , I believe, Australians started wearing their boots when they got to Vietnam They didn't rot in the tripics.
Correct me if I'm wrong.
Hugh
PS: I'd like to have seen you in army boots..
I drew my cadet uniform the same year that Hugh did, 1955. The boots weren't all that bad. But here in the US? One of the outfits that I wear in town is an 1881 US Cavalry uniform. Had a lady seamstress make the trousers for me. Authentic, including the button up fly. Ouch! It's been many years. Can you visualize returning to a world without zippers?
Same year too Graham!
Why would wear an 1881 US Cavalry uniform to town.
I found a button-up fly much superior to the zipper -- I got caught up in my zipper once and couldn't get out.
Hugh
I lived in Texas in the 90's. Went to all sorts of fun historical events where people wore all sorts of things. Not necessarily "to town" I don't suppose unless you count Colonial Williamsburg where they definitely did. That was towards the end of it's heyday.
Why would wear an 1881 US Cavalry uniform to town?
Tombstone, Arizona Territory (Statehood, 1912). A 'tourist' town, everyone has a camera. The chap who organized the Tombstone Cavalry "recruited" me when we first arrived in town and provided most of my equipment. We marched in parades. It sort of fell apart later. The Captain's emails went out to over 70 addresses. We were lucky to get a dozen show up for parades. Then - the Captain became head of the local Masonic Lodge, and a year later became the Colonel (top rank in the state) of the Arizona Rangers. His time was really taken up. One 'parade' - just three of us, and three 'camp follower' ladies. We didn't 'march', we 'strolled', arm-in-arm with the ladies.
I've worn the uniform several times since then, and 'acted' the part. Had a "Buffalo Soldier" officer step out of a store in front of me one day. I saluted, he returned it. Probably looked pretty good to anyone watching.
(Caught up? Ouch!!) (I'll see if I can find some photographs. Attach them to an email. Might take a week or so.)
A great read, Hugh. I never learnt to play a musical instrument as my parents considered that I lacked talent. How the devil they came to that conclusion I have no idea. Perhaps it was the hole I put in my little tin drum by banging it too much. I made sure all my kids learnt to play. My firstborn daughter played (or is that 'plaid'?) the bagpipes for years and at age 16 played Auld Lang Syne to welcome the New Year at the 37th Australian Jazz Convention at Geelong in 1981. Aah, the thrill of it!
I had a little tin drum too Peter -- and, like you ,I loved to bang it.
I think certain traits are passed on in the DNA. One day a descendant of Brian Buggy's will be a brilliant musician; and of Kenny Fletcher a fantastic tennis player. But -- as horse breeders know -- it can skip generations. Ken's daughter tried tennis but didn't have his ability.
But innate ability has to come from somewhere.
Hugh
What connections are made between people who are willing to slow down and listen. Brian Buggy must have been an empathetic boy, before he grew into an empathetic man. After I got to the end of your wide-ranging short story, two things surprised: how do you march to Mockingbird Hill or a Glen Miller tune? I tried it while humming in the kitchen, and it's too fast.
That first sentence, Aunty Hele, should be carved into marble somewhere!
A good question on Mockingbird Hill. You can't march to it -- but you can do the "Slow March" where each foot is slowly pushed forward instead of picked up and stamped into the ground.
It's used at Passing Out Parades to amazed the audience: the sort of opposite to the German "goosestep".
For the same reason, Buggy's Band would do intricate manoeuvres while playing -- with each line breaking off and going a different way -- and suddenly coming back into formation again at the last minute.
Another trick was: we would play a piece of music with only 15 beats.
"Parade will advance in review order" and 325 cadets would march forward and all stop right on the 15th beat.
Hugh
But what about matching to In The Mood? Not a slow march, surely.
Youre right Aunty Helen. In the Mood wasn't for arching to. In fact, I know for a fact that it is impossible.
The day before a Terrace Passing Out Parade (a big occasion) the Band had to keep playing and playing as the 325 cadets marched and marched to get everything right.
Our lips were getting sore and Captain Landener came over to complain about the music we weren't producing.
Brian Buggy was away that day, so a bloke who owned his own trumpet (amazing he had the name Watt Tyler) suggested we get some of our own back.
The next time the Drum Major raised his Mace we playing "In the Mood" -- all those cadets tried to march to it and went racing across the parade ground like wound-up toys.
Landener was furious I couldn't help but laugh. He threatened to "wrap that trumpet (it was a cornet) around your face".
I know, I know - but I have to pass this along.
For a 'marching' exhibition, on stage: ""McNamara's Band", by Spike Jones, on YouTube.
Graham,
Just watche that video -- they stole all our marching manoeuvres! Except that Spike Jones did them first!
Good to hear about a spot of rebellion in the ranks. I recall reading about a british general in WW2 complaining about Australian troops not doing things "by the book".
We took a big risk Graham -- six of the best with a leather strap could have resulted.
Hugh
PS: Thanks for your pics of you dressed in US Cavalry uniform back in 1880-odd. I was very glad to learn that the yellow stripe down the side of the Unio army trousers denoted rank!
Love your image, the boys fast marching across the parade ground like wind-up toy soldiers.
In a way, we were toy soldiers, Hugh