Les Lowther, Friend And Man

When I was seventeen years old in 1955, I went to the local night school in trying to further my education! In the class was a well-built lad who wore a long midnight blue jacket with velvet collars and matching drain pipe trousers with all the accessories that go with it. He was the same age as me and he was named Les Lowther. His father was the landlord of the Devonshire Hotel on Barrow Island where Les was brought up, which is a tough part of Barrow-in-Furness and still is
Every week for the first five weeks, Les came to the class in a different coloured long jacketed velvet collared suit with drainpipe trousers, including a post box red one. He was a tough lad, but he never threw his weight around. As you the reader are aware one has to be tough wearing those suits. I knew from the first time I laid eyes on him one noticed how smart and articulate he was wearing those suits. At that time he also had a friend in the class named Martin Bowes, both he and Les had motor bikes and rode them very fast. Those days you did not need a helmet and many a lad lost his life, because of that. A year or so later Martin Bowes was killed in an accident. Les told me many years later that Martin’s death was a big blow.
Les Lowther was also a very good rugby league player who signed professional forms for Barrow when he was eighteen years old in 1956. He was a very fast tenacious player and played on the wing many times for Barrow.
I got to know Les Lowther a bit more the day we were called up to join the King’s Own Royal Border Regiment. Along with Geoff Stubbs, I met him on Barrow Station on route to Fulwood Barracks. During training and at the battalion we were in different platoons and Companies. But we kept in contact. When the regiment went to the Cameroons I was in (S) Company at Bamenda and Les was in (B) Company at Kumba. I never saw him again until I was on the troopship Devonshire returning home 10 months later.
Returning after disembarkation leave to Barford Camp at Barnard Castle, Les and I were put in the same billet. Both of us played for the regiment and we became good friends and he was a man one could rely on 100%. He was the best turned out man in the company if not the battalion. Les spent time on his uniform, boots, beret and overcoat; he was also excellent at rifle drill. This paid dividends, because he was always picked out as stickman. Both Les and I were on three guards of honour for Generals who visited the battalion at Barford Camp. As Bobby Driver the CSM said we were his bullshit men!
It was at this time in 1961 that the new dance craze hit Great Britain it was called the Twist and with Les being a good dancer he taught all the lads in the billet how do the twist, but it wasn’t easy as you must understand. The laughs and mickey taking as we learned this dance was so humorous. This week in our local paper they have 50 years ago articles. It read, more than 700 people attended the final of the twist competition held in the Barrow Public Hall. It was won by a Whitehaven Rugby League player Les Lowther and an unnamed partner.
I travelled home with Les on our Demob day back to Barrow in February 1962 and after that I hardly saw him again. He was transferred to Whitehaven RLFC from Barrow. He later packed it all in and moved away. I never knew what happened to him until his daughter Sally wrote to me and told me Les got married and happily raised his family. Sally said he was a good father and provided well for the family. The sad part was a few years back Les took ill and after bravely fighting his illness, he passed away.
I look back on my time both during national service and civilian life and I feel honoured that Les Lowther passed through my life. He was indeed a friend and  man.
Alan

Story from Mike Hargreaves ex-KORB who served in the Cameroons

Mike Hargreaves who was in the regiment signals wrote this story to me a few years back for my other sites www.getingetoutandgetaway.co.uk and www.nationalservicememoirs.co.uk.

Hello Alan

I said I would put together some notes on my experiences with the KORBR particularly in the Cameroons in 1960/61 as a National Serviceman and my involvement as part of the Advance Party. Firstly I think your assessment of the character and ethos of the people there during that period was spot on! Very many were deferred student/craft apprentices born in the late 30s/early 40s who through their upbringing had already acquired a good degree of self-discipline before the Army added its own brand! Your description of The KORBR, the country and its people is excellent and could not be bettered.

I was called up in Oct 1959, shortly after my 21st birthday and did my basic training at Fulwood Barracks, Preston joining the Battalion at Humbleton Camp, Barnard Castle in early Jan 1960. A very cold winter, I recall, with a fuel shortage and bedside lockers being in great demand for firewood. All to be paid for of course by the time honoured method of deductions for “barrack room damages”!

I joined the Signal Platoon under Capt Blinkoe with CSM Medway and Sgt Holt and underwent a intensive training programme of several weeks with a training platoon of about 15. When it was confirmed that we were all going on active service to the Cameroons, a number of us were allocated to go on the Advance Party which meant that we went several weeks before the main body and flew out from Heathrow in a Britannia Turbo Prop, my first flight, direct to Lagos. Because of the war in the Belgian Congo at the time it was considered prudent to conceal our presence as much as possible hence the trucks conveying us to the harbour were driven fast and furiously with the covers down! My impression was of clouds of dust with chickens and cattle as well as local people running in all directions!

The rust bucket that took us from Lagos to Victoria, sailing east into the African Bight, was uncomfortable and so hot that we slept on deck but the voyage was stunning in many ways, we saw our first whales, flying fish with dolphins accompanying us all the way. We were out of sight of land for a few days then passed the island of Fernando Po and entered Victoria harbour, our boat being shallow draught so we could moor at the wharf. The next week or so was very hard, we never stopped working,unloading our gear then guarding it at night, all in continuous rain, and then being called on to use our newly taught skills to establish a telephone system between the harbour and elsewhere in Victoria.

After the unloading the next phase was with the Nigerian Army units to transport everything up Mt Cameroon to Buea the base camp which was a sea of mud, duck boards and bell tents. The roads were dreadful, no surface finish, just laterite and mud. Up and down we went time and time again on what was quite a hazardous journey. We rode “shotgun”,our “shotgun “being a brand new hickory pickaxe handle of the type we frequently used for guard duty at Barnard Castle. Our rifles had gone back into the Armoury, the weather conditions made it impossible to keep them clean. During our training in the UK, when presenting a rifle for inspection, we frequently had it rejected on the grounds that” spiders where nesting in the barrel” Quite true here !

Having transferred to Buea we laboured mightily there in terrible conditions, but I think it was the shared laughter and humour that always saved the day! On one occasion it was thought that we should take our daily anti-malarial tablet, Paladin, as a platoon by numbers in case the regime was not being followed. We gathered as a group in the pouring rain with our officer on parade observing the 1,2,3 from hand to mouth and swallow, when on 3 the Sgt who was leading coughed and out popped the pill to disappear in the mud! It took some time before we could stand to attention and that was the last we heard of swallowing pills by numbers! One day on a” you, you and you” basis, we were told to get our best kit on as a small group had been invited to dine with the District Commissioner. After several abortive kit inspections we finally passed muster and were driven to an impressive house with extensive gardens. The door was opened by a black servant in white suit and red sash and then warmly welcomed by the Commissioner and his family .Nevertheless we were not at ease and even less so when we saw the splendid crystal and silver laid out in the dining room. I don’t think any of us had dined in such splendour before. However after a drink the DC took us out to admire the rose beds and then, led by him, to “water” the roses which we all did with gusto.!

The day finally came when we had to put into practice our transfer to what were to be the camps for the main body which was then at sea on the Devonshire. Two signallers to each camp- Eric Forrester and myself to Mamfe and others to Kumba, Bamenda and of course a presence at Buea and Victoria. Our little convoy with our Nigerian drivers set off into the unknown loaded up with our rifles, kit and every conceivable piece of equipment with strict instructions- and threats if we failed- to open up the network on the scheduled time and day. When we finally arrived at Mamfe after a long journey and overnight stay at Kumba there was nobody there, just a bell tent and a windsock on the grass air strip, together with a native foreman leading a gang digging foundations who introduced himself as Napoleon! The RAF squadron, 230 SQD, flying in from Rhodesia and the UK had not arrived. However we had no time to dwell on that, all the kit had to stowed away and the Tilley lamps made ready for the long tropical nights and the invasion of insects, snakes, and the Cameroonian gorillas that we had been told would be visiting us! The following days we wracked our brains to work out how we could erect a suitable aerial as we could not climb the jungle trees as we would have done in the UK . Nobody had told us about the giant thorns, ants and snakes lurking in the branches to say nothing of the inaccessible size and height. Finally we hit upon an unconventional solution, as a temporary measure, a long horizontal dipole aerial from the windsock! We had been taught to be resourceful and so we were!

After a few days everything was in place, batteries were charged with the mobile generator we brought with us, codes and frequencies were sorted out and the RAF had arrived to our great relief. The network opened on time loud and clear! Shortly after that the Devonshire arrived at Victoria and the rest is history! During our time at Mamfe we had a very good relationship with the RAF and our small Army presence which eventually swelled to include a Pay Corp member and a ACC cook was treated well!

Thinking about those days ,the amount of trust and responsibility that the Army placed on young people is striking. The contribution people made to their country and to the British Cameroons was tremendous and not all were single. Many of the troops had wives and young families at home, such as Jim Thomas who subsequently replaced Eric at Mamfe. The entire operation, the logistics, the support to the UN who were ,as I recall, overseeing the Plebiscite, was in retrospect so impressive. I hope that others will continue to make some record of their experiences on your website. National Service was a Institution of which we shall never see the like again. My best wishes to all.

Mike Hargreaves, KORBR 1959/61. (no. 23645741)