A
SAILOR'S DOZEN
BY
David
N Axford
DEDICATION
In memory of
my mother
Hilary
Lang Axford
1925-1974
who sadly died
six months after I left the Royal Navy and a week
or so before I moved back to Haslemere
My mother diligently
kept a record of my career from the letters and
postcards that I had sent home. She was so proud
that she found a place for all my old cap-tallies
under a pane of glass on a table in the hallway, so
as to show them off to visitors. They were all
neatly lined up in rows. Postcards, photographs and
newspaper cuttings were duly placed in a scrapbook.
At the time I didn't see much point; now I'm very
grateful to her as I'm now able to show my children
and grandchildren some of the things I did and where I went whilst serving in
the Royal Navy.
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Click
on photographs to enlarge them |
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When you see this bottle
just click on it for details of some of my favourite beers consumed
around the world.
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Ring a bell?
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When you see this bell just
click on it to view some of the mementos from my Ditty Box.
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Some of
the animated flags were created by the author and some
by 3DFlags.com.
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FACT
Time served in the Royal Navy
for my country
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Total
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in Years =
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12
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in Days =
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4,135
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in Weekends =
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591
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in Weekdays =
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2,955
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Pension accrued
=
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0
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Spring
1962
At Easter I left school when I
was fifteen years of age and applied to join the Royal Navy
at Portsmouth. I passed the written examination but failed
the medical due to not being tall enough. The height
restriction was five feet. With the intention of joining the
Royal Navy still uppermost in my mind, I found temporary
jobs at planting trees, serving in a greengrocers and making
fudge. Whilst doing this I applied to join up again, only
this time at Thornton Heath instead of
Portsmouth.
I Passed the written entrance
exams once more and then waited for the medical examination
with much trepidation.
Discovery
This was to be held later on the old
wooden ship Discovery,
berthed on the river Thames, famous as Captain Scott's ship
that he sailed to the Antarctic at the beginning of this
century. I passed the medical examination with flying
colours, even though I was well under five feet tall. The
doctor said that within a couple of months training I would
be much taller anyway, and he was so right.
As soon as I heard that I was
being accepted I was absolutely delighted, then waited
excitedly for the rail warrant to allow me to take the train
to the training establishment.
At the age of fifteen and a
half I Joined the Royal Navy with the intention of becoming
a Communications Rating at HMS GANGES, the shore training
establishment, near Ipswich, Suffolk. (It has now closed
down and was being used by the Suffolk police for riot
training up until 1999; the tall white mast remains standing
as a 'listed structure' and is therefore protected -
hopefully). Before being selected for the communications course we were
to be junior seaman for a while.
I then signed on the dotted
line committing myself to serve twelve years for 'Queen and
Country'. I was now a member of the Royal Navy, my ship's book number
was 145 and my
official number was P/070006 (It was later to be prefixed
with a D instead of the P when I moved into married quarters
at Devonport in 1971). My height, as recorded on my new
identity card, was four foot ten and a half inches. We then
went to the slop room to get kitted out in our uniform,
after which we then had to fold our civvies up in brown
paper and post them home. I thought that training to be a
sailor would be heaven most of the time - instead it was
mostly hell! What made it bearable was that I wasn't alone.
I found some good mates and we kept each others spirits
up.
Though I didn't know it yet,
this was the start of a year of what can only be described
in today's language as both 'Mental and Physical Abuse'.
Never did I let on to Mum or Dad some of the horrors I had
to put up with, because Dad was very much against me joining
up, I guess it was probably due to his own experiences in
the Royal Air Force during WW2.
The day after signing on we were marched off to the barbers and then
the dentist. The first scalped me almost bald and the second gave me 6
fillings. Then we had a swimming test followed by a written exam
I spent the first four
weeks in Eagle mess over in the New Entry Annex getting kitted out, learning to
sew in red cotton (chain stitch) my name on my kit, square
bashing, cleaning, washing etc. We collected our kit from the slop
room, inside of which was a long counter and behind were rows of
shelves where the Stores Assistants gathered our kit together. The
footwear was about the only thing that properly fitted. Everything else
was way too big. The waist of the underpants nearly reached under my
armpits and the legs to my knees. I'm sure they were having a laugh at
my expense. The Burberry was also way too big and so I was fortunate in
that I eventually had one made-to-measure. The towels were a nightmare.
They were an off-white creamy colour and never looked as clean as we'd
like, in contrast to our other white clothing. When laid out for a kit
muster the towels ruined the look of it. They were also quite small.
Worst of all they didn't soak up water readily. In fact they repelled
water as if they were Teflon coated. They were also extremely
rough and didn't look or feel like towelling as we know it.
Before we left the Annex we
all had to join in the boxing contest for the entertainment
of the officers and their wives. I had never boxed in my
life before and I certainly wasn't looking forward to it,
especially being the smallest lad in the establishment. In
fact I made sure I lost the first fight so that I wouldn't
have to fight anymore. I remembered that old saying "He who
runs away, lives to fight another day". My career was just
beginning, I didn't want an early retirement just
yet.
New
recruits (Eagle mess) in the New Entry
Annex
A shock to the system was
having to use the heads (toilets) with no privacy, there
were no doors on the cubicles. We were told this was to stop
us juniors from committing suicide!
Manning
the mast
One of the tests we had to
pass before being allowed to progress to the main
establishment was to climb the mast. We had to climb on the
outside of the devil's elbow, certainly never allowed to
climb up through it. I managed to reach the spurs which were
about fifteen feet from the top. This is where all the
rigging ceased and most of us never ventured further. The
last fifteen feet had to be shinned up and at the very top
was a twelve inch round disc (button) with a lightening
conductor sticking up. The sailor who went to the top was
called the 'button boy' and he stood on top of that disk
with his legs gripping the lightening conductor with all of
his might. The reward for achieving this was a special medal
which was struck with the Queen's head on it. I'd sooner be
safe on the ground with the Queen's head on the coins of the
realm in my pocket!
HMS Ganges - part of front gate
Having completed the New Entry
training over at the Annex (I think it took six weeks), we
then marched over to Drake 39 mess over in the Main
Establishment.
Drake 39 mess
At least the cubicles in the heads had doors
on this time. The training was extremely hard, some of it
was enjoyable and some of it was absolutely terrible. We
were made to feel worthless most of the time. Shouted at and
ridiculed. Little did we realise at the time that we were
being made into men and that it was all for our own good;
anyway that's what they told us.
I enjoyed the gymnasium work
as much as I did when at school. It was quite easy for me to
climb the ropes etc., unlike some of the others who were
struggling. What wasn't so enjoyable was that we always had
inspection by the Physical Training Instructor (PTI) before
starting the exercises. Our whites had to be immaculate with
creases down the front of our shorts and our plimsolls had
to be whitened. Sometimes when it was raining or had been
raining and we used to double (run) to the gym, this caused
splashes on our plimsolls as well as the persons clothes
behind us which consequently used to send the PTI into a
fury.
Swimming Bath
I loved swimming, but to be
honest I didn't enjoy it much at GANGES. We all had to pass
the swimming test which involved the wearing of a heavy
cotton boiler suit and swimming three lengths of the baths
then treading water for five minutes. If you came anywhere
near the edge the PTI would push you out with a boat hook.
It was never a leisurely activity, like all things at GANGES
we had to do everything quickly and smartly, which was never
ever quick or smart enough for them. Until such time as we
passed the swimming test our lives would be hell, in having
to get up early for "backward swimmers".
Bowling Alley
For leisure on a Saturday
afternoon we could occasionally use the bowling alley at the
back of the swimming pool. This was great fun and I always
remember the juke box blasting out Frankie Valley and the
Four Seasons numbers called "Sherry", "Big girls don't cry"
and "Walk like a man". Another favourite at the time was
Brian Hyland's "Sealed with a Kiss" and Elvis' "Mr
Postman".
The NAAFI canteen was only
open for a maximum of two hours on a Saturday or Sunday, the
rest of the week it was only open for about three quarters
of an hour. As we never had much money I suppose there
wasn't any call for longer opening hours. The strongest
drink would be a cup of coffee and there were only a few
tables and chairs in there. The boneheads (naval patrolmen)
would periodically make themselves known, so it wasn't that
inviting.
Drake 39 mess, Divisions - Marchpast.
We still used to do 'square
bashing', Divisions (on parade and marchpast in our working
kit during the week as well as our best kit on Sundays
before church), seamanship etc., as well as our main course
on Communications.
Touch-typing exercises
Here is where I was taught to type, read
and send morse-code by sound and light, learn the meanings
of flags and fleetwork.
Reading morse biffers
I enjoyed it but have to admit it
was extremely hard work.
I enjoyed using the whalers
and cutters (boats), but once again this was marred by the
immaculate uniform we had to have - always. Saturday
mornings cleaning the boats was a very cold and wet job and
not liked much. To get to the boats on the foreshore we had
to double down three flights of steps, named 'Faith, Hope
and Charity'. Invariably the Instructors would have us
double everywhere, but as they just marched it was obvious
that we would get well ahead of them. So that this wouldn't
happen they used to 'About-Turn' us every so often.
Faith, Hope and Charity
Their
trick when returning from the boats was that we had to
double up 'Faith, Hope and Charity' more than once so as to
give the Instructor time to get up them at his own pace. If
we slackened in the hope that we wouldn't have to climb them
'at the double' more than once then we would be sadly
mistaken.
During the winter of 1963 it
was so cold that the rivers Orwell and Stour, where they
meet either side of GANGES and into the sea between
Felixstowe and Harwich, was frozen! The coldest winter since
1947. We actually put the whaler down into the frozen ice
and 'pulled' (rowed) it breaking the ice as we did so around
Harwich harbour!
Admiralty Pier
We did cross-country in the snow too with
just a pair of shorts, football shirt and gym shoes
on.
Drake Division Cross Country Team
There was a time when the
whole establishment was out shovelling the snow off the road
so that we could make a path for the lorries to bring in
supplies. We had been cut off for a while.
Front entrance of school
A few weeks
during this cold snap we were ordered to wear our pyjamas
under our blue suits as 'dress of the day' when we went to
school, which was just outside the main gate in School road.
I hated school. There we had to learn Maths and English as
well as Science and Naval History. The Instructor Lieutenant
that took us for Science was nicknamed 'Monocle Mike' due his wearing of
a monocle. I got through and passed all the
subjects except for Maths which was always my worst subject
at school. Now I was regretting skiving off lessons whilst
at Woolmer Hill school, in helping the groundsman with his chores
instead..
We used to receive fifteen
shillings (£0.75p) a week every Thursday; it went up to
thirty five shillings pocket money once we were a 1st Class
Junior. Out of this we had to purchase our toothpaste, soap,
soap powder, shoe polish, blanco, writing paper, pens, stamp
etc. We usually then had enough for a couple of bars of
nutty (chocolate bars), bag of broken ginger biscuits, a
price of a couple of coffees in the NAAFI canteen, a pack of
10 Senior Service, matches, a small packet of roll-your-own
tobacco and a pack of cigarette papers. All the cigarettes
and tobacco would be used up by Monday or Tuesday. Earlier
in the week we used to save our dog-ends and hide them in a
safe place, then when we had no more tobacco we used to roll
them into cigarettes for a smoke. Occasionally Mum and Dad
would send a 'food parcel' which made me very happy. Inside
would be biscuits, a pack of those individual dairy milk
chocolate bars and a couple of packs of Senior Service.
Whenever I watch those prisoner of war films and they get
their food parcels, I always think of mine. They were a
breath of fresh air.
St George's Chapel
I made 1st class Junior Radio
Operator. Served for Holy Communion in the Church of England
Church. One of my hobbies whilst at GANGES was to make a
radio at the radio club.
It was a hard life compared to
what I had been used to, but all the same I was determined
that I would pass out of GANGES and not give in.
An
aerial view of HMS Ganges 1962
The laundry is where we had to
strip off and hand wash our clothes. In the winter it was
very cold and uncomfortable. All our kit had to be washed by
hand; there were no washing machines or outside laundry
where we could send the clothes to be washed for us. We did
our own ironing. Another thing I hated was the kit musters.
This is where we used to lay out our kit for inspection.
Everything had to be a certain size, have tapes and names
all lined up with every item of kit being immaculate ready
for inspection.
Kit muster
Meals were at breakfast,
dinner, tea and supper. Nothing special but always looked
forward to for the break of getting away from the pressure
of GANGES life. Every weekday morning at stand-easy
(break-time) we would have a sticky bun and a mug of Kye
(cocoa). One day, at tea-time I put the cake in my trouser
pocket with the intention of eating it later in the mess. At
the end of the path from the Central Main Galley the Naval
Patrolmen always stood waiting to pick on some unfortunate
junior for being out of the rig of the day. One of the
patrolmen we used to call 'Guessler', but only out of his
ear shot. He was big, and I mean huge, just like Guessler in
the William Tell television series. He saw me then looked
down at where my pocket was bulging in my trousers. He said
"Come here lad. You don't have anything you're not supposed
to in that there pocket, do you?" As he grabbed the outside
of the pocket with his enormous hand, squeezing it tightly.
"Now get on to your mess at the double". I quickly replied
"Yes Sir!" We had to call everyone above a junior a 'Sir'.
Needless to say I had a lot of extra work washing and
ironing those trousers. This isn't as straightforward as a
normal pair of trousers. Oh no. The Navy had us iron our
trousers inside out. Then we have to iron seven horizontal
creases in a concertina fashion, the width of our Identity
Card. Woe betide anyone who doesn't do this
correctly.
Took part in the 'parents day'
physical training display. A total of £150 was raised
to aid the Cheshire Homes. This doesn't sound much by
today's money values but in 1963 it did seem a lot compared
to our wages which had gone up to thirty shillings (£1.50p) a week
since attaining 1st Class Radio Operator.
Long leave of twenty one days
was given at the end of each of the three terms. The night
before our leave we would watch a film in the gymnasium then
go to bed. 'Call the Hands' (reveille - wakey wakey) was at
02:00, we would then wash and get dressed in our best blue
suit and go to the Main Galley for a meal. Afterwards we
would collect our bags (which had been packed the day
before) and queue up to go on the double decker buses which
had been specially brought in on the parade ground. These
buses would leave around 05:00 and take us to Ipswich
railway station to catch the train to Liverpool Street
station in London. I would then catch a tube to Waterloo,
then the train to Haslemere.
It was always good to come
home again to see Mum, Dad, Barry (my younger brother) and
Sooty (our dog) whom I missed. The house would smell so nice
after the strong smells of Navy cleaners, teepol, cleaning
paste etc. I would call round to see my mates that I had
whilst at school but we all had different lives now and it
wasn't the same as before. I felt that I was intruding into
their lives rather than still being a part of
them.
When leave was finally over we
would all be making our way back to Harwich rather than
Ipswich. The train would stop at Parkestone Quay and we
would all pile out and onto the MFV (motor fishing vessel)
for the short trip across the harbour to the HMS GANGES
jetty.
We had two expeditions whilst
at GANGES. The first was a weekend at RAF Wattisham where I
had my cigarette lighter stolen. There was also a day out
onboard HMS VENUS. She was anchored out at sea in thick fog.
I remember blowing the ships portable/emergency horn as part
of my 'sea training' for the day. The other 'exped' was on
an MFV to Ostende in Belgium for the weekend.
Drake 39 mess went to Ostende.
Half the class prepared the bedding for the Vincent trogs to
sleep in the mess while the remainder helped bring the
victualling stores to the MFV. Early dinner in the CMG
(Central Messing Galley) was at ten minutes past eleven; as
soon as we had finished we were marched down to the MFV, our
home for the weekend.
We set sail at 11:30 and were
split up into watches for the weekend. The watches were in
the wheelhouse, engine room, lookout and communications;
these were interesting and very helpful for when we board
our first warship as part of the crew. There were three
officers and two Petty Officers plus twenty eight juniors
onboard the MFV 1256. These boats are not big so you can
imagine how crowded we all were.
The trip was lovely, the sun
was warm and not a cloud in the sky, and yet the boat was
rolling quite violently and just to prove this nearly all of
us 'sailors' were sea-sick, though I wasn't.
We reached Ostende about 02:30
in the morning. Having quickly tied the boat up a few of us
were detailed to stand watch whilst the remainder 'turned
in' only to be woken at 05:30 for a shower in the Belgium
Navy's shore base. This was very welcome. There were sixty
minesweepers, two frigates and a couple of auxiliary vessels
in Ostende harbour. After our shower we went and cleaned up
the boat and had a lovely breakfast.
At 08:30 all watches with the
exception of 2nd Port got ready into our number 1's for
shore leave. We then had to march to the Main Gate and then
broke step to the bank to change our money. When we had
exchanged our money, Pete Cowler and I walked around the
shops. Every gift seemed to be cheap with the exception of
'nutty' (sweats). I bought a lot of fruit to make up for
what I never used to buy at Ganges. I also brought back with
me 200 Pall Mall cigarettes and one centime coin which I had
left over.
I was on watch in the
afternoon and evening so that 2nd Port could go on shore
leave. I was also on watch that Saturday night. The tide was
exceptionally low that night and the gangway moved fifteen
feet and then suddenly a big bang as wood met wood from a
great height!
We set off on the journey back
to Ganges at 06:00 Sunday morning and the sea was very
choppy. Once again we took watches going back to Ganges. The
smell of fumes and oil from the engine room combined with
the rolling motion was enough to make you light-headed and
feel sick. The MFV eventually arrived at Harwich at about
17:30 Sunday afternoon and the Customs came aboard but none
of us trusted juniors were searched. This was a trip
I shall never forget as it was our first foreign port whilst
in the Royal Navy.
I don't recall that any of us
had passports so I can only guess that we must of had
special permission to enter Belgium on a group
visa.
September
1963
Final exams were taken. Put up
my communications badges. At last it was time for me to
leave HMS GANGES. At the time I was so relieved at being
able to get through this trial and never ever thought I
would want to go back there again.
Time is a healer and in 1991 I
went back to Shotley to see where HMS GANGES once stood.
The mast in 1991
The
mast is still there and so is the main gate and parade
ground. Nelson's Hall, which was the museum and where we
paraded when it was wet, was still standing. So was the CMG,
Senior Rates mess and Wardroom. Just about everything else
had been flattened. At the bottom of the hill were huge
mounds of broken bricks.
The pier in 1991
The jetties were still there
looking the worse for wear. Where we used to have the
assault course is now a yachting marina. One of the
buildings has a big glass cabinet with memento's of HMS
GANGES. (Now a room has been set aside for the HMS GANGES
Museum). In a way it's good to know that though they can
and have knocked almost everything down they will still have the mast standing
as a memorial. A bit like when we were there, they'd knock
the stuffing out of us but there was still a little bit of
the original person still standing, only much stronger and
prouder. I guess they were right when they said that they
would make us into men as well as sailors, all this within a
year and before we were seventeen years of age!
Looking back I can now see the
'good' that was done to us by Ganges. Having met other
'Ganges boys' later in life we all agree that it did us
'good', though we couldn't see this at the time. By the standard of
today it would definitely be classed as physical and mental torture. The most important
thing we learned was to survive, and this we did. That was no mean
achievement.
Joined HMS MERCURY near
Petersfield, Hampshire, which was only three stops down the
railway line from Haslemere, my home town. Completed the communication course
at last and passed all the exams. Training was much more
pleasant, though it could still be a soul-destroyer at
times. At least I felt that I was in the Royal Navy for real
now and things could only get better.
