The Tidworth Drummer is as famous as bacon and eggs to those who have served at the Tidworth Military Hospital in Wiltshire. Quite where the story comes from I am not sure. What I do know is what I was told when I arrived in Tidworth in August 1964.
An infantry regiment stationed in Tidworth, Delhi Barracks* I believe, was sent on active service. each regiment had a drummer to play and lead the regiment into action, or so I was told. On one particular attack, the drummer boy was killed and his ghost was reckoned to haunt Delhi Barracks annually on a anniversary of his death. In particular, the haunting took place on the ground floor beneath what became Families Medical Ward. The sound of his footsteps as he approached the spot would be heard, followed by drumming, which would last for just a few minutes.
To be honest, I don't know the truth of the story. I don't know the year in which the drummer was supposed to have died, or even the date of the haunting, as it is so long ago since I was there. I have a feeling deep down in my whatevers that it was supposed to be in February.
Anyway-what would happen would be that on the night of the "haunting" much fuss would be made of the coming that night of the drummer. The night staff would always meet in the dining room for "breakfast" at 7.15pm or so, prior to going on duty at 8pm. The tale would be told and the girls that were on nights on Families Medical Ward in particular, were told to listen out at around 1 am. Should they hear anything they should not be alarmed, but should they feel the need, they could call on the Reception staff to run across and make sure they were safe. This of course had the effect of worrying the girls, as was desired.
What the girls did not know was that the Reception staff were heavily involved in the skulduggery in the making. In my days in Tidworth, Reception and Casualty were staffed at nights by two Medical Assistants and one Operating Theatre Technician. At the given hour, one of the staff would go over to the walkway underneath Families Medical with a waste paper bin and a spanner or the like, with which to beat the bin. Lo and behold, a call would be received in Reception saying the ghost could be heard and please could someone go over to reassure the girls. With that, one of the other staff in Reception would go outside and get into a spot where he could wave to the "drummer." Within seconds the "drummer" was up the stairs and by the side of the now worried staff. The sudden appearance had two effects. One-the guy was a hero and two, the nerves of the girls were calmed quickly.
The downside to all this was come the next morning, word had spread amongst the night staff via the telephone and the night sister, that the girls had been taken for a ride. Gone was the accolade of hero, replaced instead with a tirade of abuse to be expected of such an occurence. I'm pleased to say that I did not understand much of the language used having been brought up a God Fearing son of a preacher-and still do not, to this very day!!!
If you, or a colleague remember the story differently or know more of the story, please get in touch and I'll be pleased to publish that version. Leave a note on the Comment page and I'll get back to you.
*Delhi Barracks were converted into Hospital use and opened as Tidworth Military Hospital in 1907. Sadly it closed in 1977.
An infantry regiment stationed in Tidworth, Delhi Barracks* I believe, was sent on active service. each regiment had a drummer to play and lead the regiment into action, or so I was told. On one particular attack, the drummer boy was killed and his ghost was reckoned to haunt Delhi Barracks annually on a anniversary of his death. In particular, the haunting took place on the ground floor beneath what became Families Medical Ward. The sound of his footsteps as he approached the spot would be heard, followed by drumming, which would last for just a few minutes.
To be honest, I don't know the truth of the story. I don't know the year in which the drummer was supposed to have died, or even the date of the haunting, as it is so long ago since I was there. I have a feeling deep down in my whatevers that it was supposed to be in February.
Anyway-what would happen would be that on the night of the "haunting" much fuss would be made of the coming that night of the drummer. The night staff would always meet in the dining room for "breakfast" at 7.15pm or so, prior to going on duty at 8pm. The tale would be told and the girls that were on nights on Families Medical Ward in particular, were told to listen out at around 1 am. Should they hear anything they should not be alarmed, but should they feel the need, they could call on the Reception staff to run across and make sure they were safe. This of course had the effect of worrying the girls, as was desired.
What the girls did not know was that the Reception staff were heavily involved in the skulduggery in the making. In my days in Tidworth, Reception and Casualty were staffed at nights by two Medical Assistants and one Operating Theatre Technician. At the given hour, one of the staff would go over to the walkway underneath Families Medical with a waste paper bin and a spanner or the like, with which to beat the bin. Lo and behold, a call would be received in Reception saying the ghost could be heard and please could someone go over to reassure the girls. With that, one of the other staff in Reception would go outside and get into a spot where he could wave to the "drummer." Within seconds the "drummer" was up the stairs and by the side of the now worried staff. The sudden appearance had two effects. One-the guy was a hero and two, the nerves of the girls were calmed quickly.
The downside to all this was come the next morning, word had spread amongst the night staff via the telephone and the night sister, that the girls had been taken for a ride. Gone was the accolade of hero, replaced instead with a tirade of abuse to be expected of such an occurence. I'm pleased to say that I did not understand much of the language used having been brought up a God Fearing son of a preacher-and still do not, to this very day!!!
If you, or a colleague remember the story differently or know more of the story, please get in touch and I'll be pleased to publish that version. Leave a note on the Comment page and I'll get back to you.
*Delhi Barracks were converted into Hospital use and opened as Tidworth Military Hospital in 1907. Sadly it closed in 1977.
I have to say thank you to John Silkstone, a former Tidworthian and dare I say, a senior member of the Tidworth Military Hospital Group on Facebook.
