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I was drafted to join HMS Rodney to take charge of the ship’s Walrus, which was perched semi-permanently on a catapult, which in turn, was perched permanently on the top of one of main gun turrets. I recall thinking at the time that it was very generous of Their Lordships to provide me with such a powerful vehicle to take my aircraft, and me, to war, but I do not think that the other 1499 members of the ships company actually saw it that way. The problem was getting there — travelling between Air Stations was easy, but ships move around. The Master-At-Arms, when asked where HMS Rodney might be, said, ‘Don’t you know there is a war on — information like that is classified!’ Eventually common sense prevailed and I was told that the ship was in Scapa Flow. I got a flight to Hatston, and transport to Scapa Pier and on to the duty drifter. We sailed past that grim reminder of the Royal Oak and on into the fleet anchorage.

The drifter drew alongside a mighty ironclad; I looked up and saw the legend ‘King George V’. I informed the skipper that I wanted to go on to the Rodney; but King George V was as far as he went.

We sailors travelled light in those days — kit bag, hammock, toolbox, suitcase and some flying kit - all of which had to be carried up the vertical ladder. I got it all on to the deck of the KGV, but not a soul was to be seen.

Eventually a sailor came along — I think he was as surprised to see me, as I was pleased to see him. His concern was very justified, the Flow and the islands were rife with rumours of spies and fifth columnists and just who was this rather scruffy character dressed in a Petty Officer’s uniform and surrounded by a mass of unusual looking clobber? I explained my plight — he suggested I report to the Officer-of-the-Watch — ‘Go down there, turn right by the gun turret, you’ll recognise him because he will have a telescope tucked under his left arm’…

I grabbed my toolbox, and set off in search of the Officer-of- the-Watch. I almost tripped over a brass strip that have been screwed into the deck, little realising that I was now on that Naval Holy ground — ‘the Quarter Deck’. Then I heard bugles bugling and whistles whistling and as I rounded the turret — everything came to a grinding halt. On the other side of my toolbox was a vast expanse of blue doeskin, decorated with embossed brass buttons; the sleeves had gold braid from cuff to elbow. I raised my eyes to see a weather-beaten face, a pair of piercing blue eyes and above that, a cap with enough scrambled egg to feed the family for a month. Flanking this Very Important Person were a host of lesser important persons who looked as if they were about to have sudden seizures. The only person who seemed unconcerned was the VIP. He picked up the label from my toolbox, studied it, dropped it and said ‘Ah.. Fleet Air Arm.’ Then stepped past me.

When all the VIPs had dispersed, a Lieutenant with a telescope under his arm — obviously the Officer-of-the-Watch — approached. ‘Who are you?’ he asked rather aggressively… I explained the situation. ‘Ah, Fleet Air Arm,’ he said; and proceeded to explain that when bugles blow and whistles whistled, we lesser orders were to freeze so that more important people could progress unimpeded. Especially when that important person happened to be the Commander-in-Chief! The Officer then clicked his fingers, sailors appeared and my kit and I were placed in a very smart green motorboat (the Admiral’s barge) recently vacated by the VIP, and we sped through The Fleet to The Rodney.

Once on HMS Rodney, I started to muster my kit, toolbox, suitcase, kit bag — but no kit bag was to be found — it had been left behind on King George V. I went in search of the Officer of the Watch, who was to be found standing to attention in the bow. Suddenly there is more bugling and whistling as some cruisers steam past.

When they had gone, the Officer-of-the-Watch rounded on me, ‘Did you see the flag on the leading cruiser?’ ‘Yes sir — a St George’s cross with a red ball in the upper right hand canton’. ‘That was the Flag Officer, 1st Cruiser Squadron. Now what is your problem?’ I duly explained about the missing kit bag. ‘Well, it looks as though you have had that for a while!’ and there was KGV following the cruisers out through the boom. ‘Anyway. Who are you?’ asks the Officer of the Watch. I explained. ‘Ah’ says he, ‘Fleet Air Arm’. Not bad — that is three times in one day — at least they know I am here.

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