Back in the Seventies, Major-General (Retired) Ronnie Somerville was in charge of the Scottish Special Housing Association. More affectionately known as the SSHA, the now defunct quango owned 100,000 homes throughout the length and breadth of Scotland at the time. (It also employed me as tea-boy rising to senior manager over the course of the two decades of the Seventies and Eighties.) Ronnie spent most of his time being chauffeur-driven round Scotland on what he called “site visits”. The rest of his time was spent dictating ridiculously detailed reports of the visits, in which he would wax lyrical about the tea and buns he scoffed in such-and-such a local office, before going on to praise the staff of another office for working “like Blacks” (I kid you not). On one site visit, he went walkabout in an SSHA housing scheme in Aberdeen. Spotting a tenant out hoeing his garden, he called out over the hedge, “Hello, I’m Major-General Somerville, General Manager of the SSHA.” The man he spoke to happened to be a particularly disgruntled tenant. His garden had been repeatedly flooded by effluence from a broken sewage pipe, which none of the authorities, including the SSHA, would take responsibility for fixing. “Major-General Somerville, is it?” he said slowly, leaning on his hoe. “Mair like Major-General Fucking Disaster!”
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Donald Urquhart
20/12/2023 06:20:07 pm
‘The General’ as he was affectionately known was an inspirational leader who did not suffer fools or incompetence. He made a huge impact as our general manager. I know, I was the area manager of the SSHA at the time!
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