They were the best of times for some, the worst of times for others.

But by and large, your memories of National service days are positive ones; even happy ones.

Incidentally, one or two correspondents have pointed out that National Service was technically in force during and just after the Second World War, and that to say it started in 1948 is altogether too arbitrary. Blame the Green Howards Museum at Richmond, which started the ball rolling.

So we won't stick too rigidly to those who formed the first wave of conscripts, either.

This allows David Pullan, of Buttershaw, to open the batting. He registered for National Service while on holiday in Bridlington and not long afterwards found himself with others having a medical in the Mechanics' Institute, Bradford.

This followed a set and much satirised pattern: strip ... bend over ... cough ... and so on.

And on November 15, 1956, David became 23353914 Private Pullan D R at the Hillsea Barracks in Portsmouth - 'still as clear in my mind today as it was imprinted on that first day'.

"Basic training was very hard," he recalls. "Treatment by NCOs (sergeants, corporals etc) was despicable, but we soon realised there was no discrimination and everybody was treated the same - best to let it go in one ear and out the other."

The young man decided that, to see the world, he would be better to sign on as a regular. This would commit him to at least three years in the army, but would give him some say over where he served.

So at Blackdown, Hampshire, on January 22 1957, he became a private in the Royal Army Ordnance Corps and requested a posting to Singapore and Malaya.

The flight out took four days by propeller-driven aircraft (jets were still a luxury item on airliners) and the first impression of Singapore was a shock: "Hot, humid climate, everybody's bowels affected, toilets thunderboxes, stench mind-blowing."

A few days later it was up-country to face a new enemy - the mosquito: "Bitten to death on first guard duty. Hands, wrists, face etc swollen to twice normal size. It takes about six months to acclimatise. You turn red, pink, peel time after time and your tan eventually settles down."

The food was 'disgusting' - corned beef, stewed rabbit, Pom (dried potatoes) and pineapples made up a great part of it. Getting rid of this involved thunderboxes and another phenomenon, Desert Roses (funnels stuck in a hole in the ground).

David ended up as a technical clerk and, in 1957 with independence fighters still around, British servicemen in Malaya were counted as being on active service.

Looking back, he regards it as a privilege to have served alongside the Gurkhas. "Very popular and sociable," he recalls.

The Far East was a three-year posting with no leave, but when he returned to Southampton on the troopship Oxfordshire, a journey taking a little over a month, he was almost reluctant to embark. Looking back, he says: "I like to think on the whole it was quite enjoyable and played quite a part in how my future character was formed."

The idea of becoming a regular was one taken up by 4050538 LAC Sharp, Frederick Steven, who was one of the first to take up the option. "There was no option of not going at all, but being a regular meant more pay and a demob suit," he says.

Character-formation was another aspect of National Service which many recalled.

"I found my two years in the Royal Air Force - January 18 1950 to January 19 1952 - very good for me. From being a rather narrow-minded little prig and somewhat unused to other types than myself, I found I could mix well," says David Joy, of Baildon.

He finished his service then signed on for four years in the Royal Auxiliary Air Force and is still a member of the Royal Air Force Association.

The medical in the Mechanics Institute is remembered vividly by Kevin Bailey, of Baildon. "It was one of the coldest places, this side of Antarctica, I remember. One of the doctors said: 'You've a fine physique, young man'. I said: 'They're not muscles, they're goose pimples clustered together for warmth'."

The young Kevin ended up, like practically ever other recruit, doing basic training - 'square bashing'. This involved learning to march with a rifle 'at the slope' (on the shoulder) and with a precision which would satisfy a drill sergeant.

He remembers coming home on leave from West Kirby, on the Wirral Peninsula, after training, towards the end of the Big Freeze of 1947 and finding the Big Thaw in progress.

Kevin says most people took to service life but some, sadly, didn't. Among them was his friend Norman Williams, who died in hospital in Gloucester in 1947.

Kevin is still looking for his last resting place in Rooley Lane Cemetery.

Keep the reminiscences coming and we'll share some more in a couple of weeks.

Converted for the new archive on 30 June 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.