Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 26

Service Brats!

Service Brats

It was late Autumn 1975, and in a couple of weeks, I would be one year into my tour of duty on the Mediterranean Island of Cyprus, serving with the UK armed forces; with another eighteen months to two years remaining until ‘Tourex’. I’d arrived just four months after the Turkish occupation of the North, which had led to political unrest and the evacuation of many British service families back to the UK, to be replaced by hundreds of single, mostly male, personnel.

However, a year on, things had stabilised to the point that it was considered safe to start married accompanied postings again. This meant that families started to return to reoccupy the married pads, bringing wives and ‘service brats’ back to the SBA.

At first glance the term Service Brat, or sometimes ‘Pad Brat’ would appear offensive to attach to the offspring of serving members, but it is actually quite the opposite. The term has its roots in the 1920s when families first started accompanying UK servicemen overseas. They were formally referred to as ‘British Regiment Attached Travellers’ (or BRATs). The acronym has stuck. Far from being considered an insult, it is mostly worn as a badge of honour, as it usually indicates the wearer is well disciplined, well educated and worldly wise, having often experienced life of several different countries among different cultures. Not bratty at all.

The MoD provides school facilities at major overseas bases, but only up to O’Level/GCSE age, so most Pad Brats are no more than 16-years of age. But daughters of serving personnel are considered dependent to age 19-years, so occasionally older girls, still living with their parents, accompany their families. Such was the case with Sally.

Sally was the daughter of one of my Seniors, and I first met her when she came with her parents to our unit social club one night. She was 18-years old, and had just completed A-Levels at school in the UK. She had secured a university place, but like many her age, had decided to defer, and take a gap year to ‘unwind’ before starting to study again. She had chosen to accompany her olds to Cyprus when they offered, but had plans to do a bit of travel in the region while she was there.

Needless to say, the single blokes were on her like flies on shit almost as soon as she walked through the door. After spending an hour or so stood at the bar with her folks, warding off advances from the lechers, while they were chatting with friends, Sally noticed that the comfy chairs at the table opposite where my silver tongued mate, Chris and I were sat, had been vacated. She pointed this out to parents, who nodded, and the three of them came over and asked to join us. I knew dad well, but had never met mum or Sally before. Introductions were made, and we started chatting, getting to know each other a little.

Now I should explain. Sally was no beauty Queen; not unpleasant by any means, just pretty plain. She was dressed in what might be described as quite ‘frumpy’ clothes, a roll neck sweater and pleated skirt, which mostly hid her figure, though it was evident there were quite large breasts under there somewhere. Her dark brown hair hung to just below her shoulders and quite heavy framed spectacles covered her eyes. Think Velma from Scooby Doo, and you’re not far off the mark. (Perhaps that’s a bit unkind, but you can see where I’m heading, Velma could be pretty hot when the clothes came off. I’ve seen the videos!)

It was obvious from the word go, that Chris had decided he was going to make a play for her anyway. He had the knack of chatting up females, without them realising they were being dragged into his web. This time he had to be a bit careful, as obviously her olds were right there too. But even so, he dominated the conversation with her, and had elicited most of her life story, and hopes and dreams for the future, etc., before too long. But before he could move in for the kill, he was thwarted, by mum and dad announcing it was time to go, as he had an early start in the morning (plotting something shitty for us grunts to do, no doubt.) Draining the last of their drinks, they bid us goodnight and headed for home.

It was to be a couple of weeks before we would see Sally again. Chris and I were once more hanging out at the unit bar, when she walked in. This time, not with parents, but in the company of another girl about her own age. The pair bought their drinks at the bar then, glancing about spotted us at our table. After a quick whispered exchange, they headed over and asked to join us. Sally introduced the new girl as Julie.

Julie, who Sal had only met a few days earlier herself, was a pretty girl, with Asian features. Her waist long black hair, was held from her face by an Alice band. She wore a white T-shirt, over tight, flared, denim jeans, both of which highlighted a lithe body. She was a first year university student, who had finished her classes early, to enable her to fly out to join her own parents for the upcoming Christmas and New Year break. She would be returning to her studies when the holidays were over.

I could sense immediately that Chris was conflicted. Did he drop his attempts to get into Sally’s knickers, or abandon a potentially longer term gig, in favour of a shorter fling, with the ‘hotter’ girl.

He hedged his bets for most of the evening, as we all sat and chatted. We bought the girls a couple of drinks, nothing excessive for a change, and spent a very pleasant evening in female company, drawing many a jealous glance from the wolf pack at the bar. Free from the hindrance of parental presence, Sally was much more open and flirty than she was the last time we met, and was quite drawn to Chris’s patter. She silently signalled her availability to him.