Kindly hosted by one of the Armoured Regiments courtesy of one of our serving club members saw us meet at the Apollo Tavern a couple of hours and a skin-full before we boarded the coach for the long trip down to Felixstowe.

After several unsuccessful attempts to traverse the length of the coach without touching floor or seats we arrived in a much worse for wear state at the port.

A swift crossing saw us speeding into Holland and on our way to Germany for our two o'clock kick-off.

Arriving within minutes of the kick-off and after no preparation we played the first of our three games and were narrowly beaten by one of the regiments in /tours/munster.

The preliminaries out of the way, we then proceeded to the Corporal's Mess where we embarked on our task of drinking the place dry (which we did by close of the weekend).

Saturday saw a trip into Munster and then back on the coach for our Saturday afternoon game. Five minutes into the game, from a penalty Davey Joseph fed the ball out to Russ Crowley who braced himself for the tackle from the opposition. A loud crack as his right-leg broke was heard by no-one else but Russ and, as he fell to the floor, he passed the ball to his support where a rolling maul ensued. After a short while the attending medic/doctor came onto the pitch where both of them were then trampled on as the maul went over the top of them (as can be seen in the pictures below).

Once the ball went dead he was assisted off the field and into the arms of the Army Doctor who prescribed a sprained ankle. "But I heard it crack," says Russ.

"Nah, you've sprained it," came the diagnosis.

Ably assisted by Gibbo he proceeded to the bar and proceeded to use Warsteiner's own painkillers for the rest of the weekend.

The game continued to a roaring victory for the tourists who then retired to the bar to continue drinking the place dry.

Sunday was pretty much the same theme with the successful conclusion to the tour of played three, won two and we drunk the place dry!