Cadets learn skills that may save lives

Curious as to exactly what the attraction is there was only one option - to join up for one of the Wednesday training evenings at their Albert Road headquarters.

And, of course, I wanted to see if I too could make the grade.

Not having a uniform, I was told to come in old clothes. To my horror, a dress inspection started the evening off. I slunk away to a corner, while Colour Sergeant Julia Field walked up and down the lines of teenagers at attention.

She gave them the benefit of her experience, for Sgt Field, in action, is a cross between a favourite primary school teacher and a strict sergeant major. I couldn't help but note some of her comments . . .

"Crawling through mud, were we? Look after your boots and they will look after you, I promise. Do you remember when I fell into a bog? Well, my boots were waterproof and would have been all right, if I'd got out quickly. You have dinner down your front, or washing up. Whatever it is, it shouldn't be there. Ink poisoning is not very pleasant. It will soak through your skin and poison you and it looks unsightly . . ."

And so it went on, until at the end the beaming Sgt Field declared herself generally well pleased with the standard of the turnout.

The first benefit of joining the Army Cadets Force is clearly the discipline it gives. Here were teenagers who had been at school all day, had coped with homework, perhaps, and had still managed to turn up with shirts ironed and boots polished.

Before the inspection, the youngsters were letting off steam and the hut sounded like a playground. But when called to stand, they obeyed and they listened.

Next it was drill practice. On July 14, the cadets are to march through Ledbury with the Royal British Legion, during the County Rally. It all has to be perfect.

Sgt Anthony Marshall put us through our paces.

I found I could manage the "at ease" rather well, but little else. "Oh Sergeant," I thought, "surely all this stamping around can't be good for one, so soon after tea?"

But the other cadets had clearly not just enjoyed too much pate on toast and I was put to shame by their professionalism.

At the end, the good sergeant bawled me out for my scruffy turn out and my general wrong-footedness. "Why can't you get it right?" he asked, not unreasonably.

For someone as scruffy as myself, there was only one thing left to do - cover me in bushes! So this hapless recruit found himself in a stretch of nearby woodland by the River Leadon. I was sure there were snipers all around and I needed good camouflage and quickly. My fellow troopers on this jaunt into bandit, or at last duck, country were Christopher Ritchie, aged 13, Martin Ecclestone, 14, Dan Webb, 13, and Justin Baker, 12.

The lads learnt quickly how to roll elastic bands up their arms then worked on a "buddy" system to decorate each other, or rather camouflage each other, with greenery. Cow parsley, nettles, ferns, they can all be employed to make an infantryman, or women, blend into the background.

"Look at that man's shining face!" said Sgt Lee Hill, as he instructed the youngsters in how to put on camouflage paint. "A sniper would see him a mile off." I knew he meant me.

Still, I declined to be painted myself. After all, I have a delicate complexion.

In the end, all Sgt Hill could do to make me less visible was to lend me an Army jacket and use me as a mannequin to demonstrate the correct was to use undergrowth as camouflage.

There is a serious side to all this, of course. Many cadets go on to join the Army and skills learnt at thirteen might just save their lives some five years down the line, if and when the balloon goes up.

For the rest of the youngsters, they have two and half hours each week when boredom can be kept at bay, in the company of other lively and like-minded teenagers.