As our bus, full of recruits fresh from basic training, pulled up at the guardroom of the RAF Regiment Depot Catterick, a wiry looking sergeant with several rows of medal ribbons came on board and directed the driver through the snow-covered camp to our barracks. Upon arrival he turned his attention in our direction and introduced himself as the NCO in charge of our training. He also informed us that he wouldn't stand for any kind of nonsense and anyone that caused bother would be taken behind the barracks and have good sense beaten into him. None of us had cause to doubt him.
That was my first meeting with Jack Gallagher.
He trained us as though we were going to war the day the course ended. At the Regiment Depot there was very little of the 'bull' that had been the bane of our lives at RAF recruit training. I have no recollection of any time spent on the drill square, although I suppose there must have been.
What does stay in my mind are the daily 6am PT sessions in the gym, followed by runs through the snow covering the airfield to climb the ice covered scaffolding tower on the other side, then sprinting back for a quick shower before breakfast. Jack, because of his wartime experiences, made sure all our PT was geared to agility and endurance. Weight training was not a part of the programme.
After PT, the rest of the first few days we were worked endlessly on the rifle, the light machine gun, the light mortar, a variety of grenades and a lot of fieldcraft, until we had gained the necessary proficiency he required of us, before moving on to section battle drills. Jack had us doing these with as much variety as possible. Section battle drills advancing, retiring, crossing obstacles, in the dark and over as much different terrain as could be found. Through the snow and in the rain, it seemed to be nothing but battle drill after battle drill for most of the remaining weeks of the course.
Perhaps we weren't ready for war by the end of the course but, it certainly felt like it!
Jack was born in 1922 near Bolton in Lancashire and was one of seven with four brothers and two sisters. He left school in 1936 at the age of 14 to go down the pit at the Blackrod Brew Colliery. On the 2nd of November 1940 he joined the RAF. He served with the RAF until the 23rd June 1944 when he transferred to the Seaforth Highlanders on promotion, giving as his reason for choosing the Scots regiment as he 'quite liked' their hat badge and tartan.
With the Seaforth Highlanders he served with distinction in a number of theatres of war, especially Burma where he fought towards victory. He was awarded the Pacific medal together with the South East Asia 45/46 Star. Later service saw him being decorated with no less than nine medals and two clasps, a distinguished service record in both war and peace.
Jack first met his bride Betty in March 1947, at her home, a hotel kept and run by her parents.
Soon after he transferred back to the RAF Regiment. In August 1948 Jack and Betty were married, however the day before the wedding his seven-day leave pass ran out, leaving Jack sending his commanding officer at Catterick a telegram explaining the reason for him being AWOL, but leaving out any address so he wouldn't be lifted by the MPs. The telegram earned him a posting to RAF Bridgnorth, a promotion and the congratulations of his CO!
Jack thought the world of Betty and their two daughters Wendy and Deanna and was very protective of them. He would tolerate not foul language by anyone in his home as one or two people found out to their cost!
Shortly before the end of my training at Catterick Jack had disappeared. He had gone to attempt pre-para selection. No easy task for the usual 18 year old applicants but, just another course for this particular 40 year old veteran! As half a dozen of us from the course at Catterick were also about to follow this path, we were curious as to how he would get on.
A few weeks later I found myself at the Regiment Depot back from pre-para with my wrist in plaster to find Jack had also been injured and returned to instructional duties while he too recovered from injuries incurred on the course.
During this time Jack took me under his wing and I got to know him and his ways quite well. He taught me to do things properly the first time so that more time wouldn't be wasted going over old ground. He also taught that in battle you had tactics that everyone followed whether they were 'Javanese, Japanese or Pekingese they've all read the same book'. But you could do anything you liked, no matter what, as long as it ended in your side winning.
We were both intent on returning to complete the pre-para selection course so, whenever there was an opportunity during the day, we'd go running around the perimeter track in our issue hob-nailed ammo boots, braces dangling, collars and ties removed, me still with my arm in plaster. (Kit Lave, "The Tongan Terror" was also coaching me in boxing at this time).
Jack had always been a good trainer and one time in the desert during a stint training members of the SAS Regiment, he was challenged by them to a walk from Tobruk to El Adem. He took up the challenge despite being twice their age and came in first almost an hour ahead of the best of the rest! However, a couple of days later he was still using a pair of up-turned brooms as crutches to get around to the bathroom!
By May 1964 with our para courses successfully behind us, we joined our Squadron at that time operating in Cyprus. Memories of this time include passing the SNCOs mess returning from patrol in the early hours and Jack, the patrol commander, picking up small stones and throwing them in to a large bushy tree close to the mess building much to the consternation of the tree's many feathered occupants. His explanation 'I'll give them bloody dawn chorus!'. The tree was apparently right outside of his room's window!
Although, for whatever reason, unarmed combat was frowned upon if not actively discouraged at this time, Jack believed we should be as prepared as possible for all eventualities. He took it upon himself to make sure we could handle ourselves. Rather than trying to hide from possible disapproving officialdom, he conducted this training in the middle of the largest patch of open ground he could find, in this case, the airfield. Knowing that no-one was going to bother to walk over to see what we were up to. And of course he was right.
Jack had previously served with the Aden Protectorate Levies so, when we deployed to Southern Arabia it was totally familiar ground to him. This was illustrated when one day we were engaged in throwing grenades using some discarded old boxes in a wadi not far from the shoreline as a target. Arriving at the scene he immediately called a halt to the activities and loped down the side of the wadi to our makeshift targets. To our astonishment out from the boxes came some dazed arab fishermen who'd been having a siesta. How Jack knew they were there he never told us, but he spared our blushes by apologising on our behalf in what to us sounded like fluent Arabic.
It was also in Southern Arabia we learned by example from him to be absolutely ruthless, dispassionate and efficient in dealing with those who would choose to be your enemy.
In his time Jack also served in the Sahara, Libya, Hong Kong and on the Trans African Expedition. After leaving the Regiment he served at Shrewsbury School as RSM to their Combined Cadet Force. One of the first things he did there was return to the old No4 rifle as he believed it to be the finest way to learn to shoot.
Once retired golf became a passion, as did wood carving and occasionally painting. He also enjoyed metal detecting and bottle digging. There was as well of course DIY! To Jack a spirit level was something used by drinkers and all measurements were in feet, Jack's feet!
I last met Jack at a Squadron re-union a couple of years ago. He was in poor health and knew there wasn't long to go. His daughter Wendy was with him and she told me that when her Father had heard there was to be a Squadron old boys 10mile 45lb tab to raise money for charity, he'd been half way out of the door 'to do some training' before Betty could drag him back in.
Jack was a hard man in the true sense. He was ruthless when required and a tough soldier. He was kind, fair and generous. He loved life. He loved nature and above all he loved his family.
