The two men were looking across the yard with pride at the latest addition to their business. The younger of the two spoke first, “Fantastic, eh Sarge?”
“Fantastic’s the word, Kiddo. ‘Brand & Brown: The first automated, metal reclamation plant in the country.’
Terry Brand and John Brown had first met eleven years previously. Conscripted into the army, Terry had been surprised to be passed A1 fit for service. After basic training he was sent to Aldershot for posting.
Sergeant Major Brown, after years of training recruits, had been assigned to active service in Korea. At forty-one years old, he did not relish the idea.
When Private Brand was assigned to Brown’s platoon and told that he would be going to Korea, he had responded, “I’m sorry sir but I don’t have a passport.”
“Sorry Sir! Sorry Sir! You address me as Sergeant Major. On a good day, Kiddo, you may call me Sarge! And soldiers do not need passports to fight wars!”
Good day or not, the names stuck and two years in Korea saw a bond develop between them, which helped them through many dangerous situations. Terry came to admire the skill of his ‘Sarge’ who in turn came to rely on qualities that being under fire brought out in Terry.
After demob, Terry went back to a faltering family scrap business. Turning it round would be difficult, but two years with John Brown had taught him what careful planning could achieve. Three years later, his father died leaving Terry with their plans for the yard not half achieved. Terry knew that without help his options were limited. Selling up was always an option.
John Brown held a party to celebrate his retirement from the army at the age of forty-six. Private Brand turned up to be greeted with “Hya. Kiddo.” Hearing that name again immediately brought back memories of good times in dreadful circumstances. Late in the evening, a rather drunken conversation with ‘Sarge’ about what he would do in ‘Civvy Street’ ended jokingly with, “Well I’ve got a scrap yard for sale.”
A month later, John Brown turned up at the yard. This time there was no “Hya Kiddo,” just, “Sorry to barge in unannounced, are you busy?”
Over coffee, Brown said, “Look I don’t know if you are serious about selling up but if you are let’s talk about it because I’ve done some homework.” The conversation ranged from steel shortages in China to the governmental push on recycling. In a short while Terry was thinking, this man he had trusted his life to in Korea, had the organisational talent to achieve my plans. Brown saw that Terry was the same totally honest and committed ‘Kiddo’ he had relied on in the worst days of the war. By dinner that evening, the partnership was born.
All that was five years ago and here they both were, partners, and best friends, in one of the foremost metal reclaiming businesses in the country.
“Fantastic’s the word, Kiddo. ‘Brand & Brown: The first automated, metal reclamation plant in the country.’
Terry Brand and John Brown had first met eleven years previously. Conscripted into the army, Terry had been surprised to be passed A1 fit for service. After basic training he was sent to Aldershot for posting.
Sergeant Major Brown, after years of training recruits, had been assigned to active service in Korea. At forty-one years old, he did not relish the idea.
When Private Brand was assigned to Brown’s platoon and told that he would be going to Korea, he had responded, “I’m sorry sir but I don’t have a passport.”
“Sorry Sir! Sorry Sir! You address me as Sergeant Major. On a good day, Kiddo, you may call me Sarge! And soldiers do not need passports to fight wars!”
Good day or not, the names stuck and two years in Korea saw a bond develop between them, which helped them through many dangerous situations. Terry came to admire the skill of his ‘Sarge’ who in turn came to rely on qualities that being under fire brought out in Terry.
After demob, Terry went back to a faltering family scrap business. Turning it round would be difficult, but two years with John Brown had taught him what careful planning could achieve. Three years later, his father died leaving Terry with their plans for the yard not half achieved. Terry knew that without help his options were limited. Selling up was always an option.
John Brown held a party to celebrate his retirement from the army at the age of forty-six. Private Brand turned up to be greeted with “Hya. Kiddo.” Hearing that name again immediately brought back memories of good times in dreadful circumstances. Late in the evening, a rather drunken conversation with ‘Sarge’ about what he would do in ‘Civvy Street’ ended jokingly with, “Well I’ve got a scrap yard for sale.”
A month later, John Brown turned up at the yard. This time there was no “Hya Kiddo,” just, “Sorry to barge in unannounced, are you busy?”
Over coffee, Brown said, “Look I don’t know if you are serious about selling up but if you are let’s talk about it because I’ve done some homework.” The conversation ranged from steel shortages in China to the governmental push on recycling. In a short while Terry was thinking, this man he had trusted his life to in Korea, had the organisational talent to achieve my plans. Brown saw that Terry was the same totally honest and committed ‘Kiddo’ he had relied on in the worst days of the war. By dinner that evening, the partnership was born.
All that was five years ago and here they both were, partners, and best friends, in one of the foremost metal reclaiming businesses in the country.