When English soldiers were unfit

But then I’ve always been a bit of a sports enthusiast – of the armchair variety, of course.

Gone are the days when I used to turn out for my local rugby club’s third or fourth team.

At that time I had to work, like a great many other people, on most Saturdays.

First team players were, of course, able to play on every Saturday.

I was also, I now realise, unfit – not horrendously so but enough to be glad when the referee blew the final whistle.

And I could wend my weary way to the clubhouse and relax in a warm bath, followed by a cold shower.

This done, I was fit and ready to down the obligatory cup of tea.

This was before heading to the bar for a few sandwiches.

Of course,these were washed down with a few beers and a cigarette or two, or more.

This was some 50 or so years ago, when everybody seemed to smoke.

You had to be prepared to produce a packet of fags when it was your turn to do so.

No one wished to get the reputation of only smoking OPs – other people’s – cigarettes.

Mixing with clubmates and members of the opposing team, these post-game gatherings were usually both friendly and sociable.

And that is something that all sporting activity should be about.

But I do have a sneaking feeling that, with increasing professionalism and commercialism, this is something which is slowly disappearing from many sporting activities and organisations.

Another reason I joined the club was because I wanted to get fit.

I’d stepped on the scales one day and was quite appalled at the results.

I decided that I had to do something about it, so I joined the rugby club.

So did I ever get really fit? Probably not, but I suppose I did end up a trifle fitter.

But playing sport was, for many people, one way of getting fit.

After watching the Olympics in Rio, I now realise that this is no longer the case.

Serious sports folk get fit in order to succeed.

Their levels of fitness are such that ordinary folk could never aspire to.

I don’t know what the political and medical consensus is about the level of fitness of today’s population.

Reading the papers is no help. One week we could be the fittest nation in Europe – and the next week, the worst.

It’s not the media’s fault.

These experts never seem to be able to sing from the same hymn sheet.

But then what do you expect from experts?

Somewhere at the back of mind I seem to remember that, some 20-plus years ago, the army had to send prospective soldiers off on a course in order to get them fit enough to pass their fitness test before they could sign on.

Nothing new there!

The army had the same problem in 1899 – when they were fighting the Boer War.

Figures very, but some 40 per cent of volunteers were unfit.

In some towns, for every 10 men volunteering, nine were turned down – having been categorised as “unfit to serve.”

The physical state of many of these hopefuls was reported to be quite dreadful.

And the physical fitness of those who did join the army could have been better.

A report in the West Cumberland Times for 1891 was entitled Why the English Soldier Cannot March.

It seems that the army had carried out military manoeuvres. They discovered that a day’s march of 14.5 miles was too much for many of the men – who dropped out – even though they were carrying no kit at the time.

It was a serious state of affairs.

In 1890, at a meeting of the north western branch of the Society of Medical Officers of Health, one medic, a Dr Kenyon, claimed that: “Running is the best form of exercise for the general benefit of the body and the general health.”

He also emphasised that “running had five times the effect of walking.”

He advised his listeners that beginners should “practise running short distances at first” and then increase the distances.

At the same conference, Dr Hope, professor of hygiene at the Victoria University, also agreed that “running was the very best form of outdoor exercise.”

This was in 1890!

I don’t think I shall be donning my running shoes, but I might walk into town to have a look at the new Workington Leisure Centre. Only a leisurely stroll, mind you, but it’s better than nothing.