大象传媒

I鈥檒l never forget the day I was proud to be called:

鈥楾he Englishman鈥�

Old traditions die-hard in the Royal Navy, especially on the lower deck, the ratings were fiercely proud of the ways of the 鈥楽enior Service鈥�. It was a world of complete trust in one another, and if anyone dishonoured or debased that trust we would fight to the death to protect that honour.
One of the problems was our jealousy and disgust for anyone we considered the 鈥楥olonial Navies.鈥� Jealous because of the much higher pay they received and disgust of their cavalier approach to the rules and regulations of the Service.
There was always the odd 鈥榗olonial鈥� rating on board an R.N. ship, and because of these deep-rooted feelings, the lower deck ratings made the poor guy鈥檚 life that of a pariah. A lot of the ridicule and banter he suffered was mostly light-hearted, but there was always a sinister undertow in the sarcasm that was directed at him. No matter how the guy tried to be one of the lads, to us he was just a colonial boy!
The rivalry between the Navies was centred around this, and when the situation was reversed, an R.N. rating who was transferred to an Australian, Canadian, or any other 鈥榗olonial鈥� navy ship, the guy suffered the same, or worse.
As an English rating I endured this phenomena while serving with the R.A.N. in Australia. The names given to RN. ratings by the 鈥楢ussie鈥� matelots (a name used to describe any lower deck rating.) ranged from 鈥楶ommy鈥�, (Pomeranian, a lady鈥檚 lap dog) to 鈥楰ipper鈥�, (a two faced 鈥榖astard鈥� with no guts!) and many other unprintable sayings that challenged the marital state of his parents. I took all this in my stride, as there were a dozen or so other English ratings in the barracks, we were able keep to our own values and, of course run down these 鈥楽ons of convicts鈥�- that hurt the 鈥楢ussies鈥�. Many times, after a few beers in the local bars, we were called upon to defend our honour with these returned insults.
After serving for eighteen months teaching the 鈥楢ussies鈥� R.C.M. (Radar Counter Measures) I was transferred to the Canadian Navy because of their shortage of R.C.M. ratings. The destroyer I joined was made up of Anglo, Scots and French Canadians, also a couple of Americans, who had joined the Canadian Navy before America came into the war - and now one Englishman!
Life on board was new to me as it was my first sea-going ship. The routine at sea was different and there were many pitfalls that I could have avoided with a little help from my friends, but I didn鈥檛 have any!
Most of the ship鈥檚 company, because their own individual cultures, had a deep rooted resentment of anything British. The 鈥楲ime-juicer鈥�, as I was called, was the ideal target for their frustrations and boredom during the long days at sea. I had some hard times taking the insults made against everything I thought was right about my country鈥檚 role, in what they called, exploitation of the British Empire. At times the discussions became arguments, but I always stood my ground; gradually the hostility towards me softened and a sort of acceptance grew, but anytime there was an avoidable incident on the mess deck, it was always the 鈥楯uicer鈥檚鈥� fault!
After 6 months of convoy duties, to and from Newfoundland, the destroyer was detailed to cross the Atlantic from 鈥楴ewfie鈥� to Londonderry on its own to join a new force of Canadian destroyers. It was an uneventful trip and being during the summer months, the North Atlantic was as flat as a mill- pond, it was almost a pleasure cruise! One morning during the forenoon watch, the Skipper, possibly a little bored, decided to have some fun, and it was this:
Along both port and starboard sides of the flag deck were stacked 鈥楥harly Floats鈥� (inflatable rafts.) These floats had a quick release mechanism and one sharp pull on a rope sent it on its merry way into the sea, for use in picking up survivors of sunken 鈥楳erchantmen鈥� or ourselves if we had had the misfortune of being torpedoed.
The Captain, patrolling his Bridge, suddenly called to his Duty Officer,
鈥淭his is an exercise: Order the release of No.1 Charly Float.鈥� The Officer of the Bridge called down to the watchkeeper on the flag deck,
鈥淲atchkeeper, release No.1 Charly Float.鈥� The order was obeyed and the float was duly dispatched into the sea.
At this time of the day, most of the ship鈥檚 company were going about their duties on various parts of the upper deck. I was chipping at the rusty paintwork on the E.R.A.鈥檚 (Engine Room Artificer) workshop, when this new interest, the float drifting out to sea, aroused the curiousity of others on deck. I joined them at the side of the ship, looking and wondering what was going to happen next. The Canadians were only mildly curious. Had this happened on an R.N. ship it would have been 鈥楶anic Stations鈥�. From them there was no reaction from them to the situation whatsoever, nothing! Their reasoning was, 鈥榃hat鈥檚 a Charly Float in this man鈥檚 war!鈥� Breaking the nonchalant attitude of, by now, practically the whole ship鈥檚 company. Over the 鈥楾annoy鈥� came the Skipper, Lieut-Commander Welland鈥檚 voice,
鈥淎 bottle of beer to the first man on the Charly Float!鈥� A bottle of beer on a R.N. destroyer鈥檚 mess deck at sea was liquid gold. But not to the Canadians though, there wasn鈥檛 any interest from them in this offer at all, because these guys always saved their, watered down, daily rum ration for any excuse to drink at sea and I had seen a few boozy sessions on this Boneshaker!
It wasn鈥檛 the thought of a bottle of beer, it was the attitude of the Canadians towards the enthusiasm of the skipper in his effort to bring some relief to the monotony of the daily routine of a 鈥榮hips-company鈥� at sea, that I stripped down to my underpants, climbed through the guard-rail, dived into the sea and swam towards the float. The initial shock of the cold water was almost too great for this intrepid swimmer, but I ploughed on. I had got to reach the float now, or I was dead!
Nearly there, I noticed another swimmer coming up alongside me. It was Petty Officer P.T.I. Frazier, a Scot鈥檚 Canadian and if anyone had to dive into that cold sea, it was he, being a physical-training instructor and a Scotsman, he just had to go in with the Englishman; if only for his own pride and self esteem.
We got to the float together, and to my relief, the P.O. hoisted me onto the Charley Float first, before heaving himself on board.
Back on the Bridge, the Skipper asked Signalman Deguchy,
鈥淲ho鈥檚 on the float, Signalman?鈥�
鈥淧etty Officer Frazier and the Englishman, sir!鈥� replied Deguchy.
鈥淭he Englishman!鈥� thundered the Captain, 鈥淭he R.C.M. rating?鈥�
鈥淲ho was first on board?鈥� he repeated!
鈥淭he Englishman, sir!鈥� the signalman answered.
There was an awkward silence on the Bridge, broken only by the Skipper, who was smiling when he said,
鈥淲ell, well, the Englishman.鈥� He mused for a short moment and called for the Bo鈥檚un and ordered him to have the motorboat lowered, have the ship鈥檚 company mustered on deck, and have the float towed twice around the ship. The ship鈥檚 company will cheer and honour the Charly Float and its crew, PO. Frazier and what鈥檚 his name,- 鈥楾he Englishman.鈥�
This order was duly carried out and the two shivering heroes were taken back on board, cheered by the now amused Canadians. It had been a good day for the kid from Coventry. Not only did I get my bottle of beer from the Captain, but I had earned the respect of my fellow crewmen and was very proud of being accepted an honorary Canadian.
From that day the Englishman was a part of their way of life. I was allowed into their culture, even the French-Canadians trusted me and that was something- they didn鈥檛 even trust each other! To this day I cherish the memories of being an Englishman on board the Canadian destroyer, HMCS 鈥淎ssiniboine鈥� during 鈥楾he Battle of the Atlantic.鈥�

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