At the crack of dawn or even earlier on Tuesday 9^th May 2006, there were stirrings along the Suffolk and Essex border. It was the Colchester Guards Club Travel Platoon making their way to the rendezvous point in deepest Dedham. Our transport and Driver Wayne was there spot on time. All baggage was stowed in short time. After a kit check to ensure every one had their passport, tickets and finances. At about 03.00 hrs we were on the road. All members were soon asleep to conserve their strength for the forth-coming ordeal. At Gatwick Airport all baggage was transferred, passports and tickets checked. We boarded the aircraft and took off at about 07.30 hrs. The NAAFI wagon came round with vitals and liquids. By this time John Brown was showing signs of lack of Abbot Ale for at least seven days, but he kept a stiff upper lip, but a very floppy bottom one. Very soon we were landing on the island of Crete and arrived at our hotel where we were booked in, allocated our rooms and red bands were clipped onto our wrists to identify that we were entitled to unrestricted food and booze (yippee). The rest of the day was unpacking and finding where all the bars and food centres were. This completed we all congregated at the pool bar to test the local Alco Pops, and taste the BBQ and goodies etc. This venue soon became very popular with all.

The following morning we worked out our itinerary for the visit to the British Military Cemetery at Souda Bay, our main object for the week. We agreed that this would take place on Friday. Two mini busses were booked and paid for. From this time on all troops visited what they wished. The town of Chania was popular with the ladies (good shopping centre). Independent visits were made to the German Military Cemetery, just a short walk from the hotel.

Friday came and off we all went to the Cemetery in Souda Bay, where we laid a poppy wreath as we do. The Ladies chose on which head stone they would plant a poppy cross.

LOST IN CRETE After the visit we took refreshments and mapped out a route through the mountains. This went well until we found that once off the main roads the road signs reverted to local dialect, so it became all-Greek to us. We found that the higher we went the narrower became the roads. This caused us finally to end up in a farmers yard with just enough room to turn round. Due to the convoy becoming split the brave adventurers returned to the hotel for a liquid debrief and more food

All too soon the holiday came to an end and we returned to the shores of Dear Old Blighty for a much needed rest.

We all agreed that it had been a great holiday with lots of fun, sun and friends, including the two ladies with long hair that seemed to latch themselves to Big John and Paul. On the quiet we think they may have ’pulled’. They strenuously deny this.