I was nineteen and it was the summer term of my first year at university. I was reading geography and a group of twenty of us were going on a field trip in Northumberland. The group was made up of fifteen guys and five girls and we were accompanied by our course tutor who was also female. We were to be away for four days and everyone was looking forward to it. At the last minute changes had been made to the accommodation arrangements as the plan for us all to stay in a hostel had gone wrong. The girls and our tutor would still be accommodated in the hostel but due to a lack of space, arrangements had been made for the fifteen guys to stay in some accommodation owned by the army that was a couple of miles away. Some of the guys were not too happy but I was, I had not been looking forward to staying at the hostel, about which I had heard some pretty awful things and I guessed that our arrangements would be better.
We spent the first day looking at rock formations along the coast before setting off for our accommodation. The bus first dropped the girls and our tutor at the hostel and then carried on with us. We drove the few miles or so when the army camp came in to view. It was a pretty bleak spot. Only a small number of troops were based there but it was also used for training and groups came and went all the time but at the moment none were there which was why we were able to stay there. There was a checkpoint on the gate and the driver was told where to go. We pulled up outside a building marked 'Reception' and the driver told us to get out. As we did so a sergeant appeared. He was about six feet tall with black hair, he was broad shouldered but quite slim and as I quickly noticed, had a nicely rounded bottom. His uniform was impeccable, sharply creased with boots gleaming. He said nothing but we almost naturally formed up in a straight line. When we were all standing still, he told us that his name was Sergeant Jarvis, welcomed us to the camp and told us that he would take us to see our living quarters. He told us that there was not much in the way of evening entertainment for us but there was a bar, a television room and that some of the regular army guys were going to challenge us to a couple of sporting events. He also told us that he expected us to behave like adults and not as overgrown school boys. He then set off at a brisk march towards the block in which we were to live. We all followed on.
After about a quarter of a mile, Sergeant Jarvis opened the door to a single storey brick building and led the way inside, we passed through a hallway and into a sitting room, it was comfortable enough and furnished for about twenty, there was a television, pool table and darts board. Off it was a small kitchen where he said we may make drinks. He led the way then into a dormitory pointing out that there was a washroom at the far end. He told us to choose a bed and that we should be back at reception within thirty minutes when he would take us for supper. The dormitory was laid out with twenty beds, there was a small locker next to each one, the room was very spartan, there was a table with six chairs around it in the middle and no other furniture and no curtains at the windows nor around the beds. I didn't mind that too much but had expected at least some privacy - clearly there wouldn't be much for the next few days. We all put our things down on the beds, I picked one about the middle of the room and I made my way to look at the washroom. It was at the far end of the dormitory and there were swing doors leading to it. I pushed the door and went in. it was lit brightly by fluorescent lights which reflected harshly on the white tiles that ran floor to ceiling. The floor was covered in sandy coloured tiles, there was a large roof light that was open and letting in the evening breeze, down the middle was a double row of washbasins facing each other, to the left was a bench with pegs above it, at the far end was a large gang shower and to the right were toilets. I looked unable to see what was wrong and then realised, the toilets were there alright but not in cubicles, there were just eight of them in a line along the wall. I was horrified, I was used to stripping off to wash with other guys, I had been used to a gang shower for years and liked it a great deal but the idea of using a toilet like that was different! Other guys came in and while they said nothing I could see they were thinking the same thing. I went back to my bed and started to unpack my rucksack, changing my hiking boots for a softer pair of shoes and getting ready for supper.
We made our way for supper and Sergeant Jarvis showed us the canteen, there were some regular soldiers there and once we collected our food we sat with them and chatted. The meal went over quite quickly and the soldiers offered to show us to the bar. We all went along and spent a few hours enjoying the company. At about 9.30pm I decided that I was tired and that it was time to head off to bed. I noticed that three or four others had already left. I made my way back to our block and found that the guys were still up, sitting round the table chatting and playing cards. I joined them and played too. After a couple of rounds Mark and Simon started arguing about the rules of the game and the row became quite heated. Without realising what he had done, Simon picked up an ashtray from the table and threw it at Mark, it missed but carried on and went straight through the window. There was what seemed like the most tremendous crash and broken glass was everywhere. We didn't know what to do and all sat silently, and sense of a row over.
It was only a couple of minutes before Sergeant Jarvis arrived to see what was happening. He asked what had happened and Simon admitted that he had been stupid and that any fault was his. Sergeant Jarvis appeared to listen but then turned to us and told us all that he held us all to blame for letting the row get out of hand, we all felt pretty stupid and that turned to dismay when he told us that he would have no alternative course of action but to report our behaviour to our tutor. That news hit us all like a thunderbolt. We all knew that if we were reported for something like this we would be suspended from classes for the rest of the term and would therefore miss our exams, in turn that would mean being thrown out of university as we would be classed as having failed them. Mark tried to tell Sergeant Jarvis this but he told us that we only had ourselves to blame and that he had his duty to do. We all pleaded with him until eventually he said that he would think about the matter, we were to stand in silence in the room and he would return in fifteen minutes.
The minutes ticked by slowly, we all stood, hardly daring to whisper but we did manage to agree that we would all agree to anything that Sergeant Jarvis suggested if it got us out of the mess that we were in. After exactly fifteen minutes Sergeant Jarvis returned, we all stood very still and he walked up and down the line a couple of times looking at each of us. He told us that he had decided to give us a choice of being reported to out tutor or of alternatively trying some old fashioned army discipline which in his opinion would do all of us more good. We all agreed to the latter and then he dropped his bombshell. 'The cane,' he told us, 'went out of use in the army a few years ago, that is not to say that it is no longer used and I find it is still most useful in cases like this where there has been irresponsible behaviour on the part of a group. Accordingly, I am going to give you each four strokes.' There was a gasp, I had certainly had the cane on lots of occasions at school and often more than four strokes. I had last had it just over a year ago and I could still remember the pain. There was also a more pleasant side, I loved the sensation after a few hours of a sore bottom although I never admitted that. Sergeant Jarvis had left the room and now returned carrying a cane. I gasped, this was no school cane, it was a rattan almost four feet long and about half an inch thick. He cut it through the air causing a loud whoosh and then stood flexing it. We were told to line up at the bottom of five beds that were not in use that were in a line towards one corner. 'Take off your trousers and underpants and then bend over the end of the bed,' ordered Sergeant Jarvis. I started stripping and was aware that the other guys were doing the same thing. I was in the middle of the group. Trousers and underpants off I bent over the bottom of the bed. It must have been quite a site, we were all quite fit and all played regular rugby and as such we were pretty muscular, the site of five muscular, rounded bottoms, bent over and waiting to be caned raced through my imagination. I then heard the cane whoosh and the first stroke had landed on Simon's bottom, I heard him yelp, there was a second crack then a third and fourth. Steve was next to me and I heard the cane whoosh again and saw his body stiffen as there was a crack and the first stroke landed, I saw his hands grip the bed and the second stroke landed. I suddenly realised that it was almost my turn and when I concentrated on what was happening in the room I was aware that Sergeant Jarvis was moving behind me. I heard him lift the cane, there was a whoosh, a crack and pain exploded in my bottom, I gasped for breath, tried to clench my buttocks but couldn't, the cane whooshed again and the second stroke landed just below the first. Pain exploded again, I tried to breath deeply and couldn't, the third stroke landed, this was much worse than any schoolboy caning, the cane whooshed again and the fourth stroke landed, it felt as though it was cutting a line through the other three, joining them up, the old school trick of inflaming all the previous strokes again. I desperately tried to clench my buttocks, anything to reduce the burning. Sergeant Jarvis had moved on and I heard the cane again, this time on Mark. Simon and Steve were still bent over the beds and while we hadn't been told to I stayed down too, I certainly didn't want any extra strokes. By now Sergeant Jarvis was caning Mike and so was nearly finished, I counted the last two strokes, feeling the pain coursing through my own bottom as he delivered them. He stood back, we stayed bent over the beds. 'Well gentlemen, I hope that you have learned something tonight,' he said, 'if not, you have three more nights here when the experience can be repeated if you wish,' and with that he left. I stood up, gently massaging my stinging bottom, the other guys doing the same. I went and stripped off and slowly made my way to the washroom, the only thing was to hit the showers. Getting there first and turning on an icy cold shower and letting the jet hit my bottom, I was joined by the others and slowly we recovered and began to chat.
Ten minutes on, I got out and dried myself, feeling for the first time in over a year the ridges left on my bottom by the cane. I settled into bed, carefully lying on my side, pain still coursing through my bottom and slowly the sensation changed to that familiar and pleasant burning, which the following morning was still there, in fact it stayed for about four days.
The site of the five of us taking a shower the following morning had to be seen, each with a perfect three bar gate, just like in the showers at school, it brought back lots of happy memories and gave me some new ones!!