RANDOM REMINDER

Press, Volume CVI, Issue 31330, 29 March 1967, Page 24

RANDOM REMINDER

SECURITY

Considering the ease with which the special agents advertising hair preparations on television drive through barricades and how easily John Drake can get through impassable barriers, it was surprising to find a padlock and chain producing official and semiofficial panic—and much amusement during a school cadet corps’s annual camp. The camp was situated in a narrow valley 17 miles from civilisation, or a little further if that is to be measured in the location of the nearest T.A.B. office. The road to it was difficult, and several miles from the camp, there was a gate across it. The officers running the camp decided to chain the gate each evening in the interests of security. On the first night this was done by an A.T.C. officer, in the presence of the valley’s only resident, a farmer who supplied goats’ milk to the nearest town. Just the sort of familiar Drake setting. The following evening, rather earlier than the night before, the gate was again secured. Some two hours later the president of the local R.S.A., on a surprise visit to the camp, walked several miles from the locked gate, and reached camp H.Q. with the news that a distraught farmer was threatening all sorts of action and had already rung the police. The farmer had arrived

back from town with milk cans on his truck and could not pass the locked gate.

Two officers, including the gate-locker of the previous evening, headed down the valley to put things right with the farmer. He was found finishing off the milking of his goats. He said he would be satisfied if the officers would take him to the gate and unlock it so he could bring his truck in. No mention was made of the telephone call to the police. As the party was about to leave, a vehicle was seen coming up the valley. From it emerged a stern faced staff-sergeant, the resident sub-area officer. He had been visited at his home by the police and asked to investigate. With a set of skeleton keys—good touch this—he had unlocked the gate and was on his way to deliver an official reprimand. The group then went to the gate. They saw an R.N.Z.A.F. vehicle pull up there. From it clambered a large, irate flight-sergeant, clasping a pair of bolt cutters. “There's going to be trouble over this, sirs,” said the flight-sergeant. “You’ve ruined my evening, and the first thing you’d better do is make your peace with Mr " “Who’s Mr ?” someone asked. “I am,’’ murmured the

farmer, leaning on the gate. It transpired that his first action after finding the gate locked was to walk to his house and ring the R.N.Z.A.F. base complaining about the barrier. The orderly officer had advised ringing the army No reply had been received from the army, so the farmer had telephoned the police. The air base orderly officer, however, had decided to contact the A.T.C. instructor the flight-ser-geant. He in turn advised the 0.0. to telephone the school A.T.C. squadron commander, who was not in camp. Unable to attend to th* matter himself, the squa dron commander had ner suaded the orderly officer to instruct the High' sergeant to go to the gat and cut th* chain. As this explanation of events ended, another vehicle arrived. From it came an angry cadet officer. He had been asked by the squadron commander to go out to the camp and clear the air. He had been planning an evening out with his wife . . . It was a considerable array of military talent, round the gate. There probably wasn’t much left for the defence of the rest of the country. But the humour of it all came through; they all departed happily, with the farmer claiming the key as a souvenir.