The Winter 1958 issue of the Back Badge welcomed Denis Harding as the new commanding officer of the Gloucestershire’s territorial 5th Battalion with a half page resumé of his service history, noting he had ‘seen more of the world as a soldier than falls to the lot of many.’ What began at his commission in 1936 took him through Egypt, India, Burma, British Honduras, Korea, Bahrain and Cyprus. It was his Korean service which was particularly notable, warranting a Distinguished Service Order for commanding his company at the Imjin River and a well-deserved recommendation for the Order of the British Empire from Colonel Carne. This was tragically downgraded after the Corps Commander reviewing the recommendation commented, while it was a good citation, as he had already been awarded the Distinguished Service Order, they felt Denis ‘should not receive any award.’ The Army Commander countered that it read as ‘higher than a Mention’ and it was settled that, for all of his resilience, bravery and stunning conduct under the most deplorable conditions in solitary confinement, he would be awarded the oak-leaf device for a Mention after all.
His first posting to Egypt in 1936 proved less romantic than imagined. It did little more than interrupt regimental sport and nothing came of the Italian threat in East Africa. Instead, the 2d Battalion, Gloucestershire Regiment spent the year marooned in their ‘dust heap by the sea’ waiting for a move by Mussolini while attempting to compensate training regimen under a terribly tight budget that left them short of almost everything. Lieutenant Harding was commissioned at the end of January, just after the regiment had departed, and he caught up to them at Mersa Matruh near the Libyan border.
Despite their shortages, there was an inverse proportion of men to weapons, and the battalion reorganized into a machinegun battalion earlier than expected to compensate. Rugger and swimming dominated and only a few months into the posting, they wished to return to England and escape the daily dust storms. If anything, the harsh environment and commitment to fitness and attempts at sport kept the men fit and toughened them up for operations that would inevitably come a few years later.
Returning home for only a few months in 1937, he was soon posted to the 1st Battalion in Mingaladon, Burma. The Glosters were one of two British battalions on internal security duties on the approaches to the capital and at Mingaladon airfield. The thick tropical vegetation around cantonments with jungle-clad hills rising quickly to the north and east was quite different than his year in the dry dust of Egypt. They were in Rangoon when war broke out, but Denis left before the Japanese invasion and the great retreat to sail back to England.
At the end of April 1940, he was posted as adjutant to the newly raised 11th Battalion, a holding battalion to train men for postings in the active battalions. In little time, he was promoted to second-in-command and they moved to the mouth of the Thames under the Yorkshire Division where they served as coastal defense at Hornsea. Pillboxes and gun emplacements standing squat in seagrass and wooded areas transformed the costal residences. Anti-aircraft batteries swept overcast skies at night for cloud hopping bombers, hoping to lock on to the frequently sighted German bombers who flew off target or looked to unload their bombs before flying home. Their indiscriminate runs fouled many fields and cattle, but spared much of the population.
The battalion converted to the 118th Light Anti-Aircraft Artillery Regiment and ultimately transferred to the Royal Artillery before sailing for India in 1943. From Bangalore they moved into Assam to guard American airfields and railyards. It was another uneventful posting for Harding, waiting for a breakthrough that never came, and when the threat of a Japanese invasion into India dissipated, the unit was disbanded in October and Denis transferred back to the 1st Battalion.
Regimental duty going into 1944 was not any more dangerous than his anti-aircraft posting. He commanded D Company when not off at schools, courses, or training men of the battalion, particularly in swimming which was his charge. He handled several courses for other ranks throughout the year, particularly for junior non-commissioned officers, which covered both tactical and administration for five days a week for nearly a month at a time. Unless posted out to other units, the 1st Battalion would not see combat in Burma – that glory fell to their sister 10th Battalion – but they did not know this at the time and the arduous training routines kept the men occupied, capable, and prepared.
Harding went on a two-month attachment to the 7th Indian Division in June and July – a staff posting, but not to be spared the hardships of the jungle and the Japanese. It was enough that he could finally claim credit for campaigning in Burma. He joined the division on the same day Satō abandoned his positions along the road and Nago village. With Kohima clear, the Division fought through June down the main road to Imphal, hoping to outflank the Japanese to the east along the Jessami track. This was done through monsoons that flooded the roads into impassable thick mud.
In early July, the monsoons let up as the Division moved toward Ukhrul, traversing 4000-foot mountains laced with streams swollen from the recent rainfall. They chased the retreating Japanese who were often found in small groups scattered, hungry and exhausted. By July 8th, all of Ukhrul was in British hands and the 7th Division was preparing for rest and refit.
He returned to the Battalion soon after to continue their training cycles until he was selected for the Long Staff Course in Quetta – a six-month school that he began on Christmas 1944 and when completed, warranted him a post as Brigade Major with the 16th Brigade. Once again, Denis just missed the action as the Brigade had previously finished their Chindit operations and were garrisoned much like the 1st Glosters.
By the war’s final year, Harding’s experience made him indispensable as an instructor and future staff officer rather than a company commander. He returned to such a role by 1948 with command of the Glosters detachment bound for British Honduras – the first British troops in the colony in 150 years – which was mostly peaceful by the time he took command of the two companies. When his Majesty’s Minister in Guatemala was called informally to visit, he expected the troops to be ‘wasted and unhappy.’ Upon arriving early in the morning, he was pleasantly surprised that they presented sharply and efficiently. He found them about in nothing but shorts, including Denis, but ‘as soldierly-like as a member of the Brigade of Guards. There was precision, discipline and smartness … Troops were happy and their relations with the British Hondurans were happy too.’ It was a bright interlude before Korea — where Harding’s composure and command would meet their reckoning on the Imjin.
IMJIN
Around the base of their hills, the Glosters’ B Company experienced some significant trouble with peasants tripping flares. It was the most activity they had since taking their holding positions on April 2nd. Despite some sweeps north of the Imjin and night patrolling, there was no enemy contact, and they waited – each platoon dug into three hills of low scrub. There was some concern over the seven mile stretch the Brigade held (a Divisional sized front) but the terrain was impassable for a mechanized army and what was not held by men would be blasted by artillery if anything happened. In those quiet days, men rotated out and fresh troops replaced them – Denis greeting each with a warm handshake and doing his best to assign friends to platoons together. At night they listened to the rumbles and crackle of faraway battles marked by small flickers on distant hills. Finally, their patience and anticipation culminated on the afternoon of the 22nd when an air reconnaissance reported masses of enemy moving south toward the Imjin.
On the first night, after a normal stand-to, the B Company foothills were quiet until midnight when the sound of firing came from the direction of Gloster Crossing and soon after, the listening post reported movement to their front. Denis ordered them to withdraw given the encroaching Chinese and ordered a fifty-percent stand-to. At midnight, tracers spitting from a machinegun raked over 5 and 6 Platoon positions. Denis retaliated with artillery and a one hundred percent stand-to. Flares went up and mortars arced down as more and more enemy could be heard creeping around their front.
A long burst of Bren gun fire from 6 Platoon was cause for investigation, and with Company Sergeant Major Morton, Denis met Lofty Large in his trench who explained they had been targeted by several grenades. Harding and Morton were a bit dubious as Lofty was a new replacement and therefore apt to fire at shadows. A burst of submachinegun fire bit the dirt around them, confirming his suspicions, and all three men fired shots back in the direction of the muzzle flash.
“Okay lad,” Denis said, satisfied with the story now. “Keep your eyes peeled.” He returned quietly up the hill with the sergeant major.
Artillery and mortars in the dark morning hours continued breaking up the few probing attacks aimed at B Company. The steep slopes surrounding their position seemed to be trouble enough for the Chinese as well and it was really the occasional sweeping machinegun that kept the platoons huddled in their trenches where the more experienced men were happy to calmly sip tea and coffee. Outside of Company Headquarters, a flare set the dry grass on fire and for a moment the position was brightly illuminated until Sergeant Major Morton extinguished it.
Visibility slowly increased as first light came and the enemy soon withdrew. The Chinese who remained in the vicinity of B Company were scattered, with a few groups moving about near the Imjin, and the rifle platoons fired at those who did not find cover. It was evident that all around them the 29th Brigade units faced similar hordes of enemy during the night. It was a success for B Company who took no casualties and held their ground. A section under Corporal Crisp killed a raiding party by grenade, Bren gunner Private Robinson claimed thirteen kills alone, and 6 Platoon counted thirty bodies to their front. But, given the surrounding situation, they were ordered to consolidate.
That morning of the 24th, the company was ordered to a new position on Hill 496 which was occupied by an enemy patrol which was quickly cleared by the forward platoons. Carne wished to pull the battalion closer together to prevent anyone being overrun and hope to deny the enemy use of the main road behind them. They were quickly dispatched, but not before many of the veteran soldiers booby-trapped the hill to their satisfaction with piles of greatcoats on primed grenades among other devious contraptions. They did leave with enough haste that they left most digging tools behind and resorted to scraping out defensive positions on their new hill without them. Only a few shovels scavenged from the felled patrol, bits of wood, bayonets and hands were available to work against the very rocky peak.
After dark, the Chinese attack commenced with a machinegun firing from C Company area, mortars, and a grenade attack against 5 Platoon. Denis radioed headquarters and reported to Tony: “Well, we’ve started. They’re attacking Beverley’s platoon now—about a hundred and fifty, I should think.”
The enemy attacked in ever increasing numbers and the waves quickly devolved into hand-to-hand fighting across all sections. Air bursts from mortars sent shrapnel and shattered wood and branches crashing back down on top of the Glosters. Men counted their rounds and reloaded with bloody knuckles in the short moments between attacks. ‘It said much for the steadiness of the platoons that despite sustained enemy machinegun and mortar fire, these attacks had been checked. The killing had been great.’ Only 5 Platoon was pushed back after a screaming mass of Chinese overtook their area despite immense casualties.
Soon they were left isolated after the company to their left were forced to give ground and Battalion Headquarters moved to a new position. The mortars were unable to provide any further support as both 3- and 4.2-inch had expended their ammunition. The Company was holding, but running low on ammunition.
After dawn it was clear that the company could not stay where they were on their own. Chinese were massing in the overtaken C Company area and though their pressure eased at first light, they picked up again and began to attack against Denis’ B Company. The Glosters repulsed seven hard attacks from then until 0815. Each attack was the same pattern, beginning with the Chinese forming up about one hundred yards from the Company and then rushing forward screaming, throwing grenades, and wildly spraying with their submachine guns.
For four hours they fought these waves with dwindling ammunition and increasing casualties. The sixth attack, which had pierced through 4 Platoon and Company Headquarters, was only repelled by bringing artillery fire within thirty yards of their position, resulting in more friendly casualties but repelling the fanatical Chinese.
The situation had become extremely serious by the time the seventh attack came to their crest at 0810, with a vicious charge through 4 Platoon who fell back under the weight of Chinese numbers. Major Harding’s Headquarters section followed over the east edge of the ridge, fighting hand-to-hand to hold off the enemy, but their small arms ammunition was completely exhausted and he ordered to pull back and rejoin the battalion west of Solma-ri.
Under cover of artillery, he remained with his headquarters group while the rest of the company successfully withdrew, leaving all of their tents, sleeping bags, and beer and cigarettes. The rocky slopes descending into the valley were precipitous and forced the Company to split across different directions to achieve their climb down. The mile of hill country between them and headquarters was teeming with Chinese, and many groups of Glosters were rounded up.
With fifteen men and Sergeant Major Morton, Denis fought out west along a track that connected to the main road 1500 yards away. Under fire from the old C Company area, they reached their destination with two casualties and paused to determine how best to approach Battalion. To their right was an ongoing attack, and coming up the road on their left was a party of about thirty Chinese. They dashed across the road into D Company’s position, followed closely by the enemy. They learned they had just missed 4 Platoon who were moving south in similar small parties to avoid capture.
Denis took on the Company Quartermaster Sergeant and transport drivers who had been unable to return to their vehicles and on orders from Colonel Carne, took command of the survivors to form, at platoon strength, a composite B and C Company to form a perimeter just west of the old Battalion Headquarters. At last light, they moved up to Hill 235 to hold the south end where Frank Wisbey’s C Troop, 170 Mortar Battery joined, having disposed of their 4.2 tubes to fight as infantry.
They watched the Chinese run through their old position while attempting to dig in to the impenetrable rocky earth. As the flat hilltop had been cleared of all the scrubby foliage, the men worked on building up little parapets for themselves with rocks and earth. The rest of the Brigade was having difficulty as well, and the Brigadier had plans to extract them, but all he could tell the Glosters was “Hold on where you are.” It was a near impossible order with their limited number of three hundred, little food and water, and hardly enough ammunition for twelve more hours of fighting.
Last light on the 24th was suspiciously quiet, and remained so throughout the night despite harassing machinegun fire sweeping over their ridge. The sense of isolation settled in through the battalion as it was clear that no relief columns could possibly reach them.
*
For men still able to fire back at the enemy, the remaining ammunition was distributed, leaving most with five rounds for rifles, one-and-a-half magazines for Bren gunners, and half a magazine for those with Sten guns. Their wireless batteries were dead and therefore would be no artillery support. At 0800 on the morning of the 25th, a vicious airstrike was carried out over the old D Company position, which had been problematic, and it was unlikely anything survived the incredible swaths of napalm and rockets. Within two hours, the Colonel informed the surviving Glosters that their position was to be evacuated at 1030, and they moved west off their ridge down a steep re-entrant to rejoin the Battalion to attempt a breakout.
The majority of Denis’ composite company was captured before noon, southwest of Hill 325 after they managed to escape ten miles south into the valley. No amount of running, marching, hiding in bushes or ditches could spare the battalion from capture. The Chinese were everywhere, leaving no avenue for escape, and all of the Glosters could hardly carry on due to exhaustion from the previous days of continuous fighting. They marched back north near their hard-fought positions along the Imjin and a tired resignation swept over them as the survivors of the battalion gathered in a quiet valley to await their fate.
CAPTIVITY
Most of the men were carried as missing or, in some cases, killed in action, until months later when information in some form reached families. From Gloster Hill at the Imjin, the decimated battalion marched 350 miles over six weeks toward the Yalu. From the start, the Glosters were troublesome captives for the Chinese. Reservists who had been prisoners during World War II, particularly those in Japanese captivity, were familiar with their impending situation and fortunately found any sort of physical torture to be rare in the Korean prison camps – though Denis in particular would be subjected to their methods. The majority instead were to face months of attempted indoctrination and brain-washing.
He was with Carne and an ROK interpreter when the adjutant, Tony Farrar-Hockley, rejoined the captured and met the two senior Gloster officers in a room of a Korean house. They told each other of their own tales of capture (and in Tony’s case, escape and recapture all with a wounded foot) before agreeing to sleep and resume their stories in the morning. Their reunion was brief, and after a pitiful breakfast of kiaolang and some barley cooked bean shoots which they ate out of scavenged tins or off of rags, Tony was moved out of the house. He reappeared two days later when the doctor, Captain Bob Hickey, decided it was time to operate on Tony’s foot. With only a small amount of morphine, it was Denis’ job to hold down the stocky adjutant by the shoulders.
Alongside Colonel Carne, the Major walked the length of the column every day. Each evening, they made it to the back of the line, even joking with the guards. There was no lack of morale as far as they were concerned. They did this until separated from the rest of the battalion in an attempt to break up their noticeable influence and leadership on that long route north. Denis was immediately uncooperative and on at least one occasion early on, tied up and bound for several hours.
They first reached the Caves in summer of 1951 where prisoners succumbed to their old wounds and illnesses rapidly in the dark abandoned holes of the old mining site. Harding was kept separated, still, and Major Weller did all he could as next senior officer to maintain and improve the miserable conditions of the camp through autumn.
When they reached a more permanent camp around the new year, Carne was sent off again to solitary and Denis took command and did all he could to maintain discipline and morale among the approximate 350 men. He knew doing so would lead him to same fate as Carne. The Chinese staff were particularly hostile and full of twisted ideas. Farrar-Hockley wrote: ‘The name of the Camp Commander was Ding. He was of medium height, pale skinned with fine bones and long fingers. His eyes were narrow even for a Chinese and glittered like a snake’s. He was a fanatical Communist; his staff were terrified of him; he hated us if only because we rejected the political indoctrination programme and remained loyal to our own Government.’
After refusing to adjust his ‘incorrect’ attitude, the Chinese pulled Denis into interrogations to force him to confess to his crimes – those being his plot against the Chinese and plans to improve the daily life of British prisoners. He remained stubborn throughout and the Chinese found their interrogations and indoctrination to be failing miserably. In their frustration, they forced him to stand at attention for twelve hours a day for a week. Again, this was ineffective, and his captors tied him up for thirty-six hours with a noose around his neck that would cinch at any attempt to relax in any way. This became the normal behavior Denis faced throughout the year.
*
He still had not recovered from pneumonia when he was arrested only a few hours after returning from the ‘hospital.’ He received his sentence of February 8th – a farcical public hearing where he was sentenced to six months in solitary alongside Colonel Carne and several other senior officers. The six months was, of course, extended well into fifteen months of ‘frequent and brutal maltreatment’ in the ‘most sordid conditions of incarceration as part of a prolonged, though unsuccessful, attempt to break his spirit.’
‘Initially, in spite of considerable pressure, he refused to say a word when charged with being a conspirator in a plot against the plans of the Chinese to improve our Daily Life – the Chinese term – and to teach us the Truth as our captors professed to see it.
Having no success with this stratagem, a new line was adopted. Denis was asked to sign a document in which he acknowledged the Colonel’s responsibility for his actions. Very naturally, he refused. Then it was put to him that he could ameliorate the Colonel’s position by “confessing” his own guilt—and the wording of this confession was “suggested” to him. Thus, in an attempt to release the Colonel from implication, he made a statement assuming full responsibility for all he had done to ensure that the British element in the compound voted properly in the committee elections and followed the instructions of the Daily Life Committee.
In this way, a confession was secured which gave the Chinese enough evidence to dispose of Denis for some time, though, in the event, they ignored that part of it which vindicated the Colonel. Denis now being in their grasp, they decided to follow up that advantage at the trial and obtain a certificate from him that he would give military information freely.
Ding dealt personally with this case, as he had dealt personally with the Colonel in securing a “confession”. Denis was brought before him, a proposition was made, and turned down. As Ding never personally supervised physical pressure on prisoners, it was Sun who took Denis away to an out-house and had him strung up to a beam, arranging it so that Denis’s hands were secured so far up behind his back that he had to stand on tip-toe. Every hour, for four hours, Sun returned to ask Denis if he had changed his mind: Denis had not. Sun left him until the morning, when he was cut down. The next night began with another refusal to sign the certificate, after which Sun left Denis, stripped to the waist, outside Ding’s house until he was blue with cold and too chilled to speak. After being taken back to a warm room for a time, he was sufficiently revived to utter another refusal. Sun took him to a cell down in the centre of the village and tied him again to a beam in the same way as on the previous night. This time, however, he realized that Denis’s resistance was stronger than they had anticipated. After returning twice to give him an opportunity to change his mind, Sun left him for good. In the morning the Guard Commander untied him and the matter of the certificate was not raised again. This was the reason why Denis’s wrists had dropped when we saw him at the trial.
Some days later, the varying, long sentences were announced in the Library, amidst booing: the Colonel, Colonel B and Denis got six months imprisonment each. The three American majors were each sentenced to three months. By this time, hope was high that the peace talks might succeed before the longer sentences expired.’
The six-month sentence dragged on for much longer than promised, though there were moments of liberty after the initially established period. Over the course several trips near the latrine, Denis met Tony and gave him the details of his imprisonment.
‘One morning after I had been in jail a week, I went out rather earlier than usual to the latrine. To my surprise and pleasure, the first person I saw, walking up and down nearby, was Denis, who appeared to have reasonable liberty within the limits of the courtyard of the house in which he was kept. He was taking exercise, and this had the effect of bringing him close to the crazy-walled latrine I was using. As the sentry was standing some yards off, throwing stones into the stream below us, I risked giving Denis a quiet hail which, by good fortune, he heard. In this way, we once again found first contact—later devising means of communicating more fully with one another, though we came near to discovery on several occasions. Denis was able to come outside whenever he wished, during daylight, but my visits to the latrine were at uncertain times—sometimes only once, sometimes not at all in a day, according to the whim of the guard.
Gradually, I pieced together what had happened to him. At the end of his six months sentence, he was visited by an unknown Chinese who reminded him that his sentence had expired, declaring:
“Although you have not fully recognised your errors, the Camp Headquarters believes that, inwardly, you are sorry for your mistake. As a result, your sentence in prison is over.”
Denis began to think of getting his belongings together to move back to the compound.
“Fine,” he said. “When shall I be leaving?”
“Your sentence is over,” said the Chinese visitor. “You stay here.”
So the same prison life had continued for Denis for another five months in exactly the same way except that, just before Christmas 1952, he had been moved here from the lonely hut he had occupied on a hillside just above the village containing the annex to the Camp.
Now, it seemed, he was receiving visits from Big Chu who was trying to persuade him to sign a document that he would “co-operate” with the Camp Headquarters if they returned him to one or other of the compounds—by which they meant him act as informer for them on activities in the Camp. How they had underestimated Denis! It was a great comfort to have him close by.’
He was finally released on Easter Sunday 1953 and returned to the compound in poor health no less willing to take responsibility for senior officers, knowing that it could lead right back into renewed segregation and brutality.
Lieutenant Cooper of the Leicesters later wrote of Harding: “The policy of the Chinese included a persistent attempt to cow their prisoners into subservience and disloyalty by insisting that prisoners of war had ceased to hold any military rank or to be subject to their own military law or code of behavior. The example of Major Harding was an outstanding reminder of their complete failure.”
CYPRUS
While the regiment went off to Kenya on the beginning of their ‘grand tour,’ Denis remained with Southern Command as GSO II. He caught up to the battalion once again in Aden, historically an unpopular posting of barren rocks and little else, very much like Egypt had been in 1936. Aden itself had air conditioning, pools and modern kitchens, but it was the outposts held by one, sometimes two companies, that were most popular among the men. Very quickly after he rejoined the regiment, they received orders for Bahrain to quell recent rioting. ‘As in any other riot in any other country, the hooligan element was to the fore and few of them had any idea what the riot was about – huge crowds milled about the streets with flailing banners bowling for justice, howling for blood, and howling for fun. The trouble started in traditional style with stone-throwing (including some at a battalion lorry), failure of the police to control the mob, more stones, arson, and finally the complete collapse of civil authority.’ With the discharge of only two rounds (one accidental) and plenty of tear gas, the rioting subsided and the Glosters finished the year of 1956 in peace.
The regiment then flew to Cyprus, lauded in travel brochures for the hospitable people and lovely accommodations. As a military posting it was equally tantalizing, especially for the new recruit, but the shimmering view of the island was soon replaced by the hard reality of 100-degree days, tented camps, and the endless fine dust that coated everything from rifles to breakfast tea. The work was largely uneventful but demanding – searches, escorts, and cordons through stony villages – punctuated by weeks of forest operations where the men grew lean and hard under the mountain sun.
The Cyprus to which the Glosters arrived to was grim. Still contested between the Greeks and the Turks and despite everything the island had to offer, the posting would test the regiment. Though the EOKA had lost the initiative by early 1957, if any of the British regiments relaxed, it was an opportunity for Grivas’ forces to seize the advantage. For the first six months the battalion guarded stations throughout the Troodos Mountains on security duties to keep the EOKA at bay. The countryside was deceptively peaceful: terraced vineyards and olive groves gave way to bare limestone ridges, and along the narrow roads every culvert and switchback was a potential ambush. Each night, companies rotated on roadblocks or patrols through villages that by day seemed harmless and by dusk whispered with rumors.
Denis was appointed second-in-command at the end of the September. Working out of Imjin Camp, the battalion wrote ‘our duties have continued to be heavy but unspectacular’ and a regular Saturday was a ‘hot, dusty afternoon…the only sign of movement in Imjin Camp is the continual buzz of Cyprus flies.’ By that time, the main terrorist activity was in form of writing and leaflets which the EOKA hoped to use against the civilian population for a constant state of fear. As a result, the battalion searches shifted from weapons and explosives to routing out the distributors, though there was never a shortage of the aforementioned caches. ‘It is a campaign where luck plays an enormous part and where all ranks must have a specialized knowledge of what to look for and why.’
The lull allowed for more contact with the villages, and even a degree of familiarity with the Cypriots themselves. Turks, Greeks, and Armenians mingled in the bazaars, and for many soldiers it was their first glimpse of the old Levant – a confusion of languages, donkeys, transistor radios, and modern cars sharing the same narrow lanes. Harding, experienced in the rhythm of colonial garrisons, kept the regiment steady through that uneasy calm as the island edged toward political change.
For Denis, Cyprus marked the closing of a long career that had begun in the same Mediterranean glare two decades before. It was a final campaign without glory, fought in the patient, procedural manner of a fragile peace unlikely to last in the Empire’s twilight. Under his quiet guidance the battalion left Cyprus with its discipline intact and a measure of goodwill among the islanders, even as the future remained uncertain. It was a fitting epilogue to the long years since Egypt, Burma, and Korea – another hot, dusty outpost where the regiment upheld its standard until the end.