Under Military Escort

While I'm waiting for Starcross to sell (and a dearth of news from Norbury on that front) I've been indulging in some alternative interests such as, for example, bus riding.
Today's ride was on the 75 which follows a pleasingly indirect route from Preston to Blackpool, meandering across the Fylde.
I'd noticed "Weeton Camp" on the route map and this turned out to be an active army base, barracks for the Duke of Lancaster's Regiment. The bus turned off the road into the camp and paused at the Gatehouse (or "Reception Centre" as the sign said). Here a squaddie clad in a high-viz vest that rather negated the benefit of his camouflage uniform underneath joined the bus and stayed on board as we circumvented the camp, calling in at the quaintly named "married quarters" where we picked up a couple of "wives" to take into Blackpool. The squaddie stayed on board until we were back at the gatehouse where he left us.
There were "no wrecks and nobody drownded (we were heading for Blackpool) but it was just one of those little cameos that occasionally enliven travel by bus in England and something I certainly wouldn't have seen travelling by any other mode.