Welcome to the new Christmas Island site!

  • If this is the first time you have visited the new site but you have registered on the forum in the past then you may log in on the left with your existing details.
  • If you are new to the site please register an account.
  • If you submitted content to the old site then please read this message: Original Site Contributors

This new site is still a work in progress. You can view the old site here: Old Christmas Island Site

Latest Submissions


Chatty's picture

The Blue-job Hornpipe

Not having been to either of the last two airports since 1964 I can't really pass judgement on the present situation, but, Heathrow was like a Small landing strip compared to those. They were cities within cities. Again we had to go through Customs and Immigration. It didn't make sense to me seeing we were only going to be here for about 3 hours while they did a "Turn round". Still who am I to buck the system. However, this time I was a little more careful with my comments when speaking to the Airport S.S. We were pointed to a bus and informed we were going to the International Inn.

Chatty's picture

Fruity Sheriff

That's the plane down, now for me. The heart rate's dropping and the sweat glands are going into reverse. Now I'm off the plane I'm full of confidence. "Nothing to it really, is there?" I get a sideways glance from Yorkie that says something like "you aint seen nothing yet". We casually make our way into the terminal building to be met by US Customs and Immigration. "Passport", no please or thank you. Bloody Drongo, Dressed up like a Japanese Admiral, gold braid everywhere, he obviously wasn't too keen on Brit squaddies. "Got any fruit onya?". This is where I sadly made my first mistake.

Chatty's picture

Baron Von Richthofen

It’s amazing how tight you can wear a seat belt without actually cutting the body in half. It does restrict the breathing, but it helps to mute the screams of terror. Each bump, air pocket, change of engine tone were threats to my survival. 7 hours, will I manage to retain my sanity for 7 hours? WHAT’S THAT? Only the drinks trolley. Now here’s a possible answer to my nightmare. A mobile supply of canned & bottled liquid anaesthetic. Soon I was downing a good supply of fluid relaxant. I could almost have flown without the artificial aid of an aircraft.

Chatty's picture

Only Birds And Idiots

Get a grip of yourself. It's only a plane, millions of people fly every year. Sounds good, but tell that to those impaled into various mountains, deserts and sea beds. There's only one thing that will calm me down. Alcohol. Sadly the nearest booze is stashed away in a Boeing 707 parked at Heathrow. We climb on the bus, "Yorkie" frantically trying to calm me down. More chance of winning the pools. Without going into too many details, by the time we reached the airport, a certain part of my anatomy had consumed most of the bus seat.

Chatty's picture

Off At Last

Borden, nothing but a bad memory. Hard at work in the Depot at West Moors, "Oi Chatty, J.B. wants to see you in his office" "What have I done now?" I ask myself. Can't think of any glaring misdemeanors. Room's tidy, kits OK. Better get there quick or else he'll have something else to moan about. Grab the Depot Bike (it really was a bike) and proceed at blistering speed in the general direction of the Depot HQ area.

Chatty's picture

Drawers Cellular. Mens. Olive Green

Take 1 J.Cloth, use vigorously for 2 weeks, dye a subtle shade of Olive Green. That's the cloth prepared. Give the cloth to Quasimodo's tailor with the instructions to produce something that could make a suicidal person laugh, what do you have? "Drawers Cellular, Mans, Olive Green" for the use of. What an imaginative item of clothing. Worn by all military personnel at some time during their careers. Not only was this item designed to prevent chaffing one's more delicate regions, it also served as a very effective method of birth control. Picture the scenario. A night out with the lads.

Chatty's picture

Depot Battalion R.A.S.C

There's not really a lot to say about Borden. The camp and the town lacked any facilities worth remembering. The journey to Borden was uneventful, Three tonner to West Moors station, long since gone to the land of Dr Beeching's losers. The "Brockenhurst Express", a stinking, dirty incontinent steam locomotive, grunting and farting its way to nowhere fast. It must have worked, because eventually we got to our destination. Albeit after dark, so the shocks were yet to come. I was always taught to believe that spiders were an insect. However, the Army can always buck the system.

Chatty's picture

A Night At The “Flicks”

Amongst the multitude of activities available on the Rock one brings back some excellent memories. A night at the Flicks. An evening at “The Blue Lagoon Cinema” ( see photo ) Not your actual Odeon or Gaumont, but in retrospect, you couldn’t get away with our antics in either of those two establishments. To start with a brief description of this Palace of Visual Pleasure. It was open air. In other words they were too bloody tight to supply a roof.

Brian's picture

The nuclear 'guinea pigs'

Ken McGinley, one of two ex-servicemen seeking compensation for being made to witness nuclear explosions in the South Pacific, has failed in his legal bid against the government. But what did the thousands of young soldiers experience on Christmas Island 40 years ago?


Brian's picture

Nuclear test veterans lose legal battle

Veterans of British nuclear tests in the Pacific in the 1950s have lost their latest effort to establish whether their human rights were violated by the government of the day.