Midnight Beer at Camp 60 In the dimly lit barracks of Camp 60, Canadian Infantry Basic Training Centre in Yarmouth, Nova Scotia, during World War II, a group of recruits huddled around a wooden table. The air was thick with anticipation. Murphy, always impatient, leaned forward. “Any sign of that fellow yet?” he asked, glancing at the door. “He said it wouldn’t take too long. But it’s been over an hour.” Rushton, the level-headed one, patted Murphy’s shoulder. “Be patient, Murphy. He’ll get here, and then we’ll all be happy.” Lark, ever the sceptic, raised an eyebrow. “You sure you gave him clear directions?” “Absolutely,” Rushton replied. “I told him to pull the taxi up to the side of the fence closest to the building and flash the headlights three times. He’s done this for other recruits before. No problem, we’ll have our beer.” Just then, Dowling burst through the door, a triumphant grin on his face. “We’re in luck,” he announced. “One car, three flashes. He’s here.” The recruits pooled their money, and Rushton handed it to Dowling. Moments later, Dowling returned, carrying a box. The recruits leaned in, eyes wide, as he placed it on the table. Bottles clinked as they eagerly opened them and began to drink. “I hear something,” Lark whispered, glancing toward the door. “Your imagination,” Chapman scoffed. “Who could it be? The Sergeant is all tucked in for the night. As long as we keep it down, we’re fine.” But the laughter grew louder, and the room buzzed with camaraderie. Murphy leaned in, his voice low. “Sure, if the corporal comes in, we’ll just offer him a drink. If the Sergeant arrives, we head to…” He hesitated, eyes darting around the room. “Surettes Island.” Theriault scoffed. “You’ve got islands on your mind all the time. You couldn’t find Surettes Island. Neither could any of us.” “Simple,” Hiltz chimed in. “We head for Hectanooga.” “Not far enough away, boys,” Theriault, who was from Hectanooga, warned. “I’m afraid we’d be confined to barracks for days.” “Weeks, more apt to be the case,” Lark, ever the skeptic, added. Chapman, looking at Watkins, sighed dramatically. “Poor Watkins. No Connie for weeks.” “No Eileen for weeks,” West chimed in, raising his bottle. But fate had other plans. The door swung open, and there stood Sergeant Brown, eyes wide with disbelief. “What in the? What’s going on around here?” he thundered. “You’ll wake up the whole town of Yarmouth.” Murphy, ever the optimist, greeted him with a jovial tone. “Good evening, Sergeant.” Sergeant Brown’s stern expression softened just a fraction. “Don’t ‘good evening’ me, Murphy.” Rushton stepped forward, desperation in his eyes. “Look, Sergeant, we’ve worked hard all week. All we wanted was to have a little fun and a few drinks. There’s no harm done.” And then, unexpectedly, Lark spoke up. “Better yet, Sergeant, join us. Have a drink.” The others echoed the invitation, bottles raised. To everyone’s surprise, Sergeant Brown hesitated, then accepted the proffered drink. The recruits watched, wide-eyed, as he sat down at the table. The room seemed to hold its breath, the tension intense. Here was their stern Sergeant, sharing their secret midnight beer. “Well,” he said, “I am kind of dry.” Sergeant Brown took a swig from the bottle, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. For a moment, he was no longer the Sergeant; he was just another soldier. The recruits and their Sergeant sat together, laughing, and talking. The beer flowed and the rigid lines that separated them blurred. The Sergeant even joined in some singing. As time slipped away, Sergeant Brown leaned back in his chair, a rare smile at his lips. “You boys,” he said, shaking his head. “You’ll be the death of me.” Sergeant Brown stood, clapping a hand on Rushton’s shoulder. “Back to training tomorrow, but tonight, no ranks” And with that, he left, the door closing softly behind him. The room echoed with the fading notes of their laughter, a memory etched into the walls. For a brief moment, they were free.

Soldiers having beer delivered to the barracks in secret at night was shared by WWII veterans and the events of this story was presented in the Wartime Heritage (440 Productions) stage musical “Memories” (1995-1996). However, if the soldiers were ever caught it is unlikely the Sergeant would have joined them! The video is from the stage version of the story