大象传媒

Ray Culley has given permission for extracts from his book of wartime memories to be reprinted her. He was in the Canadian Navy which palyed a major rolein the Battle of the Atlantic.

DISCOVERING OLD AND NEW FRIENDS
Chapter 10

By Ray Culley from his book His Memories Can Survive
My fortunes were to improve, however. I was on watch at the dock in St.John鈥檚 harbor, below decks in the Communications messdeck, when a visitor came down the hatchway. It was Len Webb, who lived a block and a half down the bill from my home. He was slightly older than I was, but I knew his family, and a brother, Jim, who was slightly younger. We had not gone to school together, but certainly knew lots of the same folk. I was still very homesick, and leaned on every word he had to tell me of our neighbourhood at the top of l4th.St. Southwest, Calgary Soon it was midnight, and my mess deck mates were returning in their usual unsteady condition, and least of all any coherent vocabulary however loud they spoke. I mentioned to Len that perhaps it was time he returned to his ship, for privacy was not going to happen. Len replied鈥� I am on my ship鈥�, and you cannot imagine the joy I felt, to have someone to share thoughts, to have someone to go ashore with, to have someone who knew people I knew, just to have someone to bond with, although as time went by we all bonded on that bucket of bolts called the Summerside.
There was a negative aspect to this next trip, however, for a new Signalman also came on board. One by the name of Ralph Aiken. Now this was quite a work of humanity. He was what we called a real 鈥渏ack鈥�, he wore his uniform cap away back on his head, almost to defy gravity, and it never fell off. Of course it necessitated that he carry his head bent over.
Also he wore his dickey (the bib like part of the tunic) very low,
so that the two hairs on his chest could be seen, and the border of
blue, bleached almost to a white. These factors made him out to be what we called 鈥榓 salty jack鈥�. His personality was obnoxious. He was the same age as myself.
Now, we were both Visual Signalmen, and as such carried certain credentials, as we were always the first to know what was going on, we were on the bridge and received by light, shipping orders, or anything pertaining to where we were going, and what we were to do. We were just a few hours out of St.John鈥檚 when rumors were rampant that we were headed for the Panama Canal, and over to the West Coast. Of course, as Signalmen we knew this to false. When the ships company realized we were headed due East, into the cold North Atlantic, it became clear that the rest of the crew must find out who had started the false rumor. I knew I had not. However, a kangaroo court was set up in the Seaman鈥檚 messdeck, and I found myself directed with a degree of force to one end of the messdeck table, only to be staring at Aiken at the other end (it was apparent that they considered Dave Wycoff, the other Signalman innocent). As far as I could determine every crewmember was on the jury. As best I could I claimed complete innocence; I knew Aiken was as guilty as sin, but he just kept grinning. Before long the verdict came down, that as they could not tell who was telling the truth, that we both should be punished. So down came our pants, and held down on the table, they covered our privates with HP sauce. We both ran to the showers, as it stung like you wouldn鈥檛 believe, all the while Aiken was laughing his head off. It was many months later, after we had become relatively close friends that he admitted, only to me, that he had started the rumour, as a way of getting noticed. He struggled with an identity complex, and was rather insecure, besides being scared to death of the ocean, and all the unknown aspects of war at sea.
Aiken had requested that he go ashore with Len & I when we reached Londonderry, and as one did not want to carry grudges in that environment, it was an A-okay! However when we left the Jetty gates, and walked a block, there was an Irish Pub beckoning us. We entered to a very old pub with dirt flooring, and made our way to only one of two tables. Len ordered three tankards of draft beer at the bar, and returned to the table, when Aiken said, 鈥�1 know how to drink beer, you are supposed to chug-a-lug the first one, and with that he stood up and promptly chug-a lugged the whole tankard. It took some time for him to empty the tankard, but NO TIME AT ALL for it to come up and all over the dirt floor. He was green and sheepish, and did not have another, as Len & I broke up, and sat back and enjoyed our beer. This episode seemed to really alter Aikens demeanor, and he accompanied us many times ashore, and we became good friends.

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