Storm in a tea cup and a farewell to ML303
One of the most unpleasant situations that arose on ML303 concerned an altercation between me and the motor mechanic, Jock. We were out of the anchorage in our peaceful mode waiting for “Chaos” as it was gin time. On watch on the bridge, Jock (the motor mechanic) had come up for a breather and we were chatting. It was a beautiful summer evening with a couple of ships on the horizon, most relaxing.
Jock says, “Do you fancy a wet (cup of tea)?”
I replied, “Don’t mind.”
He replied, “Go down aft and make it”.
“Not likely, I’m on watch” I said.
He retorted, “I’m telling you get it!”
This time I replied, “Fuck off Jock! I can’t leave the bridge!”
Now he said “I’m ordering you to get it!”
I said, “Forget it.”
“It’s an order. If you don’t comply you’re going to be in serious trouble.”
“Bollocks Jock!”
He reported me to the coxswain, who was dead keen to nail me and he put me in Jimmy’s report. Next morning I saw Jimmy who put me in the Captain’s report, citing “Refusing an order under enemy fire”. That night waiting table on the Skipper, he said he would like to discuss the affair after dinner (no beer this time!!).
We did so and he was not very happy about it but said he had to follow the system through as I had been reported in Jimmy’s report. I saw him next morning and explained my defence - I had been on watch and under no conditions must leave my post. What if there was an emergency? Where was the enemy gunfire cited in the report? It was a balmy peaceful summer evening. Refusing an order over a bloody pot of tea was neither here or there. I said I had the greatest respect for Jock as a motor mechanic, as a Petty Officer, and as a man and was amazed by the way things were blown out of all proportion.
Jock offered to withdraw his allegation but the Skipper said it had gone past that (he had the coxswain in mind) and it looked silly in some respects but an order had not been complied with and I was guilty and would I take his punishment? I said no and said I’d like to appeal to a higher authority.
The Skipper was taken aback and said very well, it would therefore be dealt with by the Captain back at the base (HMS Hornet) on our next arrival and I would be confined to the ship. I learned that the Hornet base captain had been recalled from retirement for this war, and was a proper RN swine and I could be looking at 90 days inside.
The situation upset a number of people on board - the two officers, Carpenter, Jock and the cook mainly. They asked Carpenter’s opinion about it on the QT and he agreed with what I had done, but not the way I had gone about it – in hindsight true, very true…
On the Cherbourg trip I must have been feeling guilty about the arse up of loosing all those craft when Jimmy suggested I make it up with Jock and shake on it and all would be well. I saw Jock and did this and I was greatly relieved. He was chuffed the day we arrived in Haslar, the Skipper dealt with it and we were all pleased, until that is, he said about the punishment he would have to give me. Would I accept this? But when he said 14 days number elevens¹, I knew I had been seen off.
On a small ship like the ML this punishment meant working all my spare time, either painting or doing crappy jobs like cleaning out the bilges. These were under the decks between the storage tanks (water and fuel) and had spaces about 12” wide and about 5 feet deep that filled up with seawater, especially so since the collision in the Mulberry harbour in Arromanches. This was one of the daily tasks dreamed up for me, along with no shore leave. We had “make and mend” afternoons now and then and these involved 95% of the ship’s company getting their heads down. I, however, was painting the bloody ship, the whole external body of the hull as well as guardrails. A 20-foot pontoon was requisitioned and put alongside and off we went as I had volunteer company from some of the lads who thought I had received a green rub.
Me, the wireless operator, cook and three able seamen, two stokers (Jock’s men…) all volunteered and worked like Trojans to complete it in two afternoons. I painted all the guardrails myself. The singing was quite good with emphasis on “I belong to Glasgow” when we passed Jock’s porthole and the wardroom got a rendition of “The Blaydon Races”. Jimmy sent us some cordial but they hinted he could have done better. The ‘Swain was the only sorehead on the boat and the lads had made their point.
As previously mentioned the coxswain was very unhappy about his recall to the navy and he was the wrong type for coastal forces and really should have been in barracks or on a battlewagon. He had favourites amongst this crew and this was a really bad thing when there were only 23 blokes on board. The cook and two seamen, who really didn’t like him, often took the brunt of his pettiness. The communication ratings reported to him but did not pay much attention to what he said as they had too much to do to be bothered.
On a beautiful evening, with a calm and tranquil sea, the atmosphere gets right into one’s mind and you begin to think of home and soften up somewhat. At times on the bridge with the helmsman, officer and signalman, conversations would strike up and we’d ask each other questions such as, “What did you do before the war?”, “What will you do after?”, “What ambitions do you have, “Are you courting?”. These discussions could go on for hours and provided one is not interrupted, the conversation could get quite deep at times. A couple of occasions with the Skipper (a solicitor in Civvy Street) we were chatting fairly seriously. The ‘Swain was on the wheel and body language showed he disapproved of officers talking to ratings about staying in the navy as a career. To this question I said no chance as I believed it had not moved forward since Nelson’s time and was extremely childish in many respects. ‘Swain could not join in but the conversation was alluded to on a number of occasions later on. If a seaman was on the wheel he reported back to ‘Swain what had transpired.
On one occasion the Skipper discussed jobs after the war and suggested I should study to be a clerk of the court. After explaining what was involved, I said my education was sadly lacking, having left school at 14 and we went through the procedures to correct this. He may have been responsible for why I studied so seriously after the war.
Numerous conversations were held with the Jimmy (an engineer previous to enlistment) and Skipper on these evenings. The Jimmy was interested in my time with Clarke Chapman’s, which he was familiar with and said that it was a reserved occupation so what was I doing in the navy?
(Actually, conversations mentioned here were also discussed on the corvette HMS Vetch later in the war in a similar fashion.)
One further thing the ‘Swain did not like was my friendship with Jock (PO Campbell), as I could rarely go ashore with sig. Carpenter with being on opposite watches, so I used to go with Jock and one of his stokers, or the Geordie cook.
The coxswain had the long service and RN attitude put them in a compartment and stick with it and never encroach on other men’s occupations. This was discussed on the bridge once or twice and the communication ratings ended with a course on guns, depth charges and seamen duties which did not please the ‘Swain. My approach was if these fellows were killed we could possibly fill the breach but the navy never thought like that. One thing I was interested in was navigation, but there were many times when the navy could have given lessons, but the attitude was always no, no, never, one-man-one-job.
Around the middle of August we received orders to pay-off the ML303 at Felixstowe in East Anglia. It was intended that a number of MLs were to be refitted and receive copper bottoms² prior to going out to the war in the Far East. We left Haslar Creek, and travelled up the English Channel through the Goodwin Sands³ and up to Southend in the Thames Estuary for refuelling and tied up on the Pier there.
We resided at Southend for 24 hours and pushed on to Felixstowe (quite a large coastal forces base at the time). The atmosphere on board was anything but jovial and we all volunteered to go out with the Skipper and the boat to the Far East. The Skipper was quite chuffed but the request was turned down by the base as the work would take six months to complete and they were not prepared for us to kick our heels for that long whilst the ship was readied.
Owing to the urgency in leaving Haslar Creek for Felixstowe, we had to send our food parcels home from there. A coalman with a horse and cart was driving along the jetty one day and we hailed him and asked his advice. He said he would send them by rail. As he had to wait, as some of the crew were not ready; he was invited aboard and given tea laced with rum. After a couple we negotiated a figure of 7/6d per person to send the parcels. The boxes were packed with tinned goods such as soup (that had a self heating appliance attached), butter, jam, fruitcake, fatty bacon, spam and egg powder etc. The coalman finished up with about 35 surplus tins and 50 fags also tinned – his horse got toasted bread. He left three sheets to the wind but the horse must have known where the station was as my old dear got her box and was very chuffed. Only I had left ML303 before I knew about it.
When the day came for leaving the ship, the Skipper called me to the wardroom (everyone had an individual meeting with the Skipper) and he personally thanked me for staying with the ship following the injury I received to my chest. He said the war had moved into a new phase and would be over within 12 months in Europe and that I should take heed of our chats and that I should take all the advantage I could of possible education courses offered following the war. Jimmy was there also and lots of kind things were said and it kind of got to me and I left in tears. Jock was waiting to say cheerio outside the wardroom and thought I had been assaulted and was going in to do something about it and he was stopped just in time. A great fellow, I wonder how he eventually came through the war? I still remember how he kept those engines purring when we left the Mulberry Harbour during the great storm. Goodbye ML303 and my thanks to Jock, Jimmy and the Skipper!
Jock says, “Do you fancy a wet (cup of tea)?”
I replied, “Don’t mind.”
He replied, “Go down aft and make it”.
“Not likely, I’m on watch” I said.
He retorted, “I’m telling you get it!”
This time I replied, “Fuck off Jock! I can’t leave the bridge!”
Now he said “I’m ordering you to get it!”
I said, “Forget it.”
“It’s an order. If you don’t comply you’re going to be in serious trouble.”
“Bollocks Jock!”
He reported me to the coxswain, who was dead keen to nail me and he put me in Jimmy’s report. Next morning I saw Jimmy who put me in the Captain’s report, citing “Refusing an order under enemy fire”. That night waiting table on the Skipper, he said he would like to discuss the affair after dinner (no beer this time!!).
We did so and he was not very happy about it but said he had to follow the system through as I had been reported in Jimmy’s report. I saw him next morning and explained my defence - I had been on watch and under no conditions must leave my post. What if there was an emergency? Where was the enemy gunfire cited in the report? It was a balmy peaceful summer evening. Refusing an order over a bloody pot of tea was neither here or there. I said I had the greatest respect for Jock as a motor mechanic, as a Petty Officer, and as a man and was amazed by the way things were blown out of all proportion.
Jock offered to withdraw his allegation but the Skipper said it had gone past that (he had the coxswain in mind) and it looked silly in some respects but an order had not been complied with and I was guilty and would I take his punishment? I said no and said I’d like to appeal to a higher authority.
The Skipper was taken aback and said very well, it would therefore be dealt with by the Captain back at the base (HMS Hornet) on our next arrival and I would be confined to the ship. I learned that the Hornet base captain had been recalled from retirement for this war, and was a proper RN swine and I could be looking at 90 days inside.
The situation upset a number of people on board - the two officers, Carpenter, Jock and the cook mainly. They asked Carpenter’s opinion about it on the QT and he agreed with what I had done, but not the way I had gone about it – in hindsight true, very true…
On the Cherbourg trip I must have been feeling guilty about the arse up of loosing all those craft when Jimmy suggested I make it up with Jock and shake on it and all would be well. I saw Jock and did this and I was greatly relieved. He was chuffed the day we arrived in Haslar, the Skipper dealt with it and we were all pleased, until that is, he said about the punishment he would have to give me. Would I accept this? But when he said 14 days number elevens¹, I knew I had been seen off.
On a small ship like the ML this punishment meant working all my spare time, either painting or doing crappy jobs like cleaning out the bilges. These were under the decks between the storage tanks (water and fuel) and had spaces about 12” wide and about 5 feet deep that filled up with seawater, especially so since the collision in the Mulberry harbour in Arromanches. This was one of the daily tasks dreamed up for me, along with no shore leave. We had “make and mend” afternoons now and then and these involved 95% of the ship’s company getting their heads down. I, however, was painting the bloody ship, the whole external body of the hull as well as guardrails. A 20-foot pontoon was requisitioned and put alongside and off we went as I had volunteer company from some of the lads who thought I had received a green rub.
Me, the wireless operator, cook and three able seamen, two stokers (Jock’s men…) all volunteered and worked like Trojans to complete it in two afternoons. I painted all the guardrails myself. The singing was quite good with emphasis on “I belong to Glasgow” when we passed Jock’s porthole and the wardroom got a rendition of “The Blaydon Races”. Jimmy sent us some cordial but they hinted he could have done better. The ‘Swain was the only sorehead on the boat and the lads had made their point.
As previously mentioned the coxswain was very unhappy about his recall to the navy and he was the wrong type for coastal forces and really should have been in barracks or on a battlewagon. He had favourites amongst this crew and this was a really bad thing when there were only 23 blokes on board. The cook and two seamen, who really didn’t like him, often took the brunt of his pettiness. The communication ratings reported to him but did not pay much attention to what he said as they had too much to do to be bothered.
On a beautiful evening, with a calm and tranquil sea, the atmosphere gets right into one’s mind and you begin to think of home and soften up somewhat. At times on the bridge with the helmsman, officer and signalman, conversations would strike up and we’d ask each other questions such as, “What did you do before the war?”, “What will you do after?”, “What ambitions do you have, “Are you courting?”. These discussions could go on for hours and provided one is not interrupted, the conversation could get quite deep at times. A couple of occasions with the Skipper (a solicitor in Civvy Street) we were chatting fairly seriously. The ‘Swain was on the wheel and body language showed he disapproved of officers talking to ratings about staying in the navy as a career. To this question I said no chance as I believed it had not moved forward since Nelson’s time and was extremely childish in many respects. ‘Swain could not join in but the conversation was alluded to on a number of occasions later on. If a seaman was on the wheel he reported back to ‘Swain what had transpired.
On one occasion the Skipper discussed jobs after the war and suggested I should study to be a clerk of the court. After explaining what was involved, I said my education was sadly lacking, having left school at 14 and we went through the procedures to correct this. He may have been responsible for why I studied so seriously after the war.
Numerous conversations were held with the Jimmy (an engineer previous to enlistment) and Skipper on these evenings. The Jimmy was interested in my time with Clarke Chapman’s, which he was familiar with and said that it was a reserved occupation so what was I doing in the navy?
(Actually, conversations mentioned here were also discussed on the corvette HMS Vetch later in the war in a similar fashion.)
One further thing the ‘Swain did not like was my friendship with Jock (PO Campbell), as I could rarely go ashore with sig. Carpenter with being on opposite watches, so I used to go with Jock and one of his stokers, or the Geordie cook.
The coxswain had the long service and RN attitude put them in a compartment and stick with it and never encroach on other men’s occupations. This was discussed on the bridge once or twice and the communication ratings ended with a course on guns, depth charges and seamen duties which did not please the ‘Swain. My approach was if these fellows were killed we could possibly fill the breach but the navy never thought like that. One thing I was interested in was navigation, but there were many times when the navy could have given lessons, but the attitude was always no, no, never, one-man-one-job.
Around the middle of August we received orders to pay-off the ML303 at Felixstowe in East Anglia. It was intended that a number of MLs were to be refitted and receive copper bottoms² prior to going out to the war in the Far East. We left Haslar Creek, and travelled up the English Channel through the Goodwin Sands³ and up to Southend in the Thames Estuary for refuelling and tied up on the Pier there.
We resided at Southend for 24 hours and pushed on to Felixstowe (quite a large coastal forces base at the time). The atmosphere on board was anything but jovial and we all volunteered to go out with the Skipper and the boat to the Far East. The Skipper was quite chuffed but the request was turned down by the base as the work would take six months to complete and they were not prepared for us to kick our heels for that long whilst the ship was readied.
Owing to the urgency in leaving Haslar Creek for Felixstowe, we had to send our food parcels home from there. A coalman with a horse and cart was driving along the jetty one day and we hailed him and asked his advice. He said he would send them by rail. As he had to wait, as some of the crew were not ready; he was invited aboard and given tea laced with rum. After a couple we negotiated a figure of 7/6d per person to send the parcels. The boxes were packed with tinned goods such as soup (that had a self heating appliance attached), butter, jam, fruitcake, fatty bacon, spam and egg powder etc. The coalman finished up with about 35 surplus tins and 50 fags also tinned – his horse got toasted bread. He left three sheets to the wind but the horse must have known where the station was as my old dear got her box and was very chuffed. Only I had left ML303 before I knew about it.
When the day came for leaving the ship, the Skipper called me to the wardroom (everyone had an individual meeting with the Skipper) and he personally thanked me for staying with the ship following the injury I received to my chest. He said the war had moved into a new phase and would be over within 12 months in Europe and that I should take heed of our chats and that I should take all the advantage I could of possible education courses offered following the war. Jimmy was there also and lots of kind things were said and it kind of got to me and I left in tears. Jock was waiting to say cheerio outside the wardroom and thought I had been assaulted and was going in to do something about it and he was stopped just in time. A great fellow, I wonder how he eventually came through the war? I still remember how he kept those engines purring when we left the Mulberry Harbour during the great storm. Goodbye ML303 and my thanks to Jock, Jimmy and the Skipper!
¹ Slang for punishment.
² Copper bottoms were used to prevent tropical worms etc boring into the boats hull in tropical waters.
³ The Goodwin Sands lie six miles off Deal rounding the North Foreland in the English Channel.
² Copper bottoms were used to prevent tropical worms etc boring into the boats hull in tropical waters.
³ The Goodwin Sands lie six miles off Deal rounding the North Foreland in the English Channel.