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Out and about.

In the spring of 1956, once the snow and ice had cleared, I went to a shop in the village and ordered a bicycle. They didn't have any in stock, but were agents for a manufacturer. I therefore chose a suitable model from a catalogue and paid a cash deposit. The excitement this order caused was surprising. I found later that this was the most expensive order they had handled since setting up in business.
My new bicycle gave me freedom to explore the local countryside, and freedom to visit friends in married quarters without a long walk. I had a degree of independence without the expense and hassle of buying and running a second-hand car. I could get away from camp and put work and the working environment behind me for an hour or two.
I cycled to the Desenberg and climbed it to explore the castle ruins at its summit and to admire the view of the countryside. I travelled along tree-shaded roads to Lütgeneder, Peckelsheim, Eissen, Körbecke, Daseburg, Dinkelburg, and Dalhausen. Many of these roads had crosses or crucifixes at their side, in wood, iron, or stone, to mark the spot where some poor individual had met an untimely end in a traffic accident. Speeding cars and roadside trees don't mix.
I got to know the local countryside very well and was able to organise a car Treasure Hunt one weekend for members of the Mess. I found all the clues and arranged the route purely as a result of my cycling expeditions. I put the clues to verse or disguised them so as to give reason for thought, rather than just a straight drive round the route. I was assured that all who took part had an enjoyable afternoon. I couldn't go myself so had to wait patiently for everyone to return with their answer sheets. Ray and Daphne Street were the winners.
Dalhausen fascinated me and I visited it many times. It was a village with an industry. Situated on a very minor tributary of the river Weser, it nestled in a valley with the stream running alongside the road to Beverungen. There was a railway station, a veneer works and, more interesting from my point of view, it was a centre for the weaving of willow baskets. Over the period of almost a year I took my movie camera there to film the various stages of basket making: the growing osiers, the cutting of them, their soaking in bunches in the stream at the roadside, the stripping of the bark, the trimming, and finally the weaving. When exploring the osier beds there were times when I couldn't film because of the attentions of the horse-flies which wouldn't let me alone. Otherwise I filmed in detail and, in so doing, got to know many of the villagers, at least by sight. Usually I dropped in to a Konditorei for coffee before cycling back to camp. I never finished the film because my stay at Borgentreich was cut short before I had completed the final sequences.
Sam Weller, our Adjutant, lived in the Mess and, like Plt.Off. Clive Sabel, who also lived-in, enjoyed walking. Both would set off, quite independently, on their long hikes at Saturday lunchtimes to reappear tired and weary on a Sunday evening. Sam told of the time when he stayed at a farm and was kept awake most of the night because of the sounds of scraping and clanking chains. On investigating next morning, he found that on the other side of his bedroom wall a big, rather restless, bull was chained up! Then there was an occasion when I was weekend Orderly Officer and I got a phone call, in German, from miles away. Clive Sabel had walked nearly 30 miles, to close to the East German frontier where, in growing darkness, he was looking for an inn at which to spend the night. The man on the phone was a
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