telling-off. The offending soldiers were dealt with severely and discharged from the army after a spell in military prison. The headline was replaced the following day with another, about a horse in the Life Guards being forced to drink alcohol by some of the soldiers. Enough was enough. There followed a period of tough treatment by the chain of command within the regiment. We found ourselves working late, starting early, and on top of our horses in full kit more often. Unsurprisingly, around this time our commanding officer changed, and things eventually died down as many new soldiers filtered through and into the troops. It certainly was a tough time to start out as a new guy.
Soldiers going on parade hungover, or even still drunk, was a normal occurrence back in 2005. I was often sobering up while bouncing around in my saddle, sometimes not too far away from the Queen, but we always managed to hold a high level of professionalism. Back then, and even today, most of the mistakes on a parade rehearsal, or even an actual parade, were made by the junior officers who led us.
The officers at Hyde Park barracks lived the life of Riley. They didn’t have to do anywhere near as much work as the soldiers under their command. Firstly, every officer would have his owntrooper as an orderly. It would be this young trooper’s responsibility to make sure every single piece of equipment his officer needed in his daily business was ready. He would also be responsible for getting the officer dressed, because an officer wasn’t expected to dress himself. All of these orderlies were then collectively responsible for ensuring that all the officers were wined and dined to a high standard in the officers’ mess. Some troopers would also take care of the officers’ horses, ensuring they were fully groomed and tacked up so the officers could just climb on and ride away. The amount of running around the young soldiers would be made to do just so their officers were looked after accordingly was quite disgusting. There were two very different classes of people operating in that officers’ mess; it was very much a modern
Downton Abbey
.
My late nights continued and I soon had my first credit card, which was solely used in places like G-A-Y. Soon after, I took out a loan to help me fund my adventures. I held no other hobby or interest apart from hitting the gay scene and sleeping with as many men as possible. Of course, now I know that I was suffering from addiction and that my life depended on my endless drinking and nights of sex; still, the regiment had its soldier and, whatever state I was in, I was always on time. Hidden behind all that uniform and tradition, as long as I could reasonably point my horse in the right direction and carry my sword correctly, everything was fine. Nobody ever gave me any hassle for being hungover in work.
As time went by I started to become aware that a few soldiers were taking an interest in me for other reasons. On the first such occasion, a Life Guard who was the same age as me started smiling at me and winking suggestively while in the on-camp bar. After a few beers I spoke with him and he told me quickly that he wanted me to invite him back to my room. He wanted toexplore his sexuality and I guess I was his chosen playmate. I decided not to go into Soho that night and instead stayed put with my new friend. I took the guy back to my room and allowed him to satisfy fully his curiosity. I did this on and off with him for about twelve months; afterwards he would always insist he was straight. Until the next time, of course.
These little episodes with ‘straight’ soldiers didn’t always go smoothly. One night, while enjoying a sports night in the bar, I was again ‘hit on’ by a soldier, who, by the end of the night, was begging me to join him back in his room. I was a little reluctant, because I’d never really liked the lad. He was a little older and a bit of a troublemaker, but under the influence I
Soldiers going on parade hungover, or even still drunk, was a normal occurrence back in 2005. I was often sobering up while bouncing around in my saddle, sometimes not too far away from the Queen, but we always managed to hold a high level of professionalism. Back then, and even today, most of the mistakes on a parade rehearsal, or even an actual parade, were made by the junior officers who led us.
The officers at Hyde Park barracks lived the life of Riley. They didn’t have to do anywhere near as much work as the soldiers under their command. Firstly, every officer would have his owntrooper as an orderly. It would be this young trooper’s responsibility to make sure every single piece of equipment his officer needed in his daily business was ready. He would also be responsible for getting the officer dressed, because an officer wasn’t expected to dress himself. All of these orderlies were then collectively responsible for ensuring that all the officers were wined and dined to a high standard in the officers’ mess. Some troopers would also take care of the officers’ horses, ensuring they were fully groomed and tacked up so the officers could just climb on and ride away. The amount of running around the young soldiers would be made to do just so their officers were looked after accordingly was quite disgusting. There were two very different classes of people operating in that officers’ mess; it was very much a modern
Downton Abbey
.
My late nights continued and I soon had my first credit card, which was solely used in places like G-A-Y. Soon after, I took out a loan to help me fund my adventures. I held no other hobby or interest apart from hitting the gay scene and sleeping with as many men as possible. Of course, now I know that I was suffering from addiction and that my life depended on my endless drinking and nights of sex; still, the regiment had its soldier and, whatever state I was in, I was always on time. Hidden behind all that uniform and tradition, as long as I could reasonably point my horse in the right direction and carry my sword correctly, everything was fine. Nobody ever gave me any hassle for being hungover in work.
As time went by I started to become aware that a few soldiers were taking an interest in me for other reasons. On the first such occasion, a Life Guard who was the same age as me started smiling at me and winking suggestively while in the on-camp bar. After a few beers I spoke with him and he told me quickly that he wanted me to invite him back to my room. He wanted toexplore his sexuality and I guess I was his chosen playmate. I decided not to go into Soho that night and instead stayed put with my new friend. I took the guy back to my room and allowed him to satisfy fully his curiosity. I did this on and off with him for about twelve months; afterwards he would always insist he was straight. Until the next time, of course.
These little episodes with ‘straight’ soldiers didn’t always go smoothly. One night, while enjoying a sports night in the bar, I was again ‘hit on’ by a soldier, who, by the end of the night, was begging me to join him back in his room. I was a little reluctant, because I’d never really liked the lad. He was a little older and a bit of a troublemaker, but under the influence I
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