Memories of future passed.

As it is the season in the U.K. for concerts and festivals I thought I may share one or two memories about the isle of white 1970.

I was serving with the armed forces (catering) at the time and we had all been given leave before we were posted to our first regiment.

Having spent quite a few months together during training it was going to be a bit of a wrench until Frenchie one of the guys came up with an option to earn some money and have a good time doing it.

His brother lived on the isle of white and had secured the rights to the catering behind scenes for the entire weekend, plus one or two days either side of it.

All he needed was some extra equipment and staff.

Having words with the corporals in charge of transport we managed to acquire the use of a four ton truck fully equipped with burners, frying range and boilers.

Towing behind us was a mini generator and another smaller truck full of freezers.

We called in on the way from Aldershot to the ferry at various supermarkets to buy as much frozen fish and burgers as we could. The rest of the fare would be produced locally as the lads brother was also the local baker.

Ten of us had pitched in the money to buy the basics hoping that we would make a few quid out of the deal along with the money there was also the added bonus of being the right side of the security fence to interact with the groups.

Getting in early was a godsend as the roads after the Monday were very near impassable with the volume of people trying to gain entry.

Having pitched our large army issue tent behind the stage it was time for a quick foray into the world of celebrity.

Not knowing exactly at the time what was happening regarding the outcome of the festival we just amused ourselves by watching and listening to the groups arguing and rehearsing.

The who were just a little behind us in their caravan and we woke to the sound of doors flying open and women screaming at three a.m. on the Friday morning with Pete Townsend screaming at a lad lying in the mud with blood streaming down his face.

‘You can have my booze you can smoke my stash you can even play around with my missus but if you ever touch my guitar again I will kill you’.

So saying he slammed the door and continued to jam with whoever was with him.

Emerson Lake and Palmer did their opening gig that year and were to become one of my favourite bands along with Led Zeppelin.

It was also to be remembered for the last great performance by the greatest artist evr to pick up a guitar the one and only Jimi Hendrix.

Arriving late on the Saturday night high on adrenaline and goodness knows what else at the time he put in what was to be a memorable performance, starting at midnight and lasting till the sun was just about visible over the horizon.

Someone set fire to the stage after his performance but it wasn’t me Guv. Honest.

Stupid thing I have just remembered was the time that Frenchie came back to the tent with a girl thinking we were all asleep.

At the climax of his performance we all rose up and clapped he was extremely deflated very quickly.

Unlike our hopes and dreams for the future, it was after all a new decade and a new start for all of us about to leave training. All in all, a good time to go to a festival.

I would thoroughly recommend young people experiencing such a thing when they are young enough to appreciate it.

As long as it doesn’t rain too much that is.