大象传媒

MY LIFE MY WAR

By
Bernard Hallas

Chapter 3b - To The 鈥淜illing Fields鈥� (Cont.)

Gunnery was a serious business and it was going to be discipline, discipline and yet even more, for without it, catastrophe could be just around the corner. The first hour of every day was 鈥淐leaning Quarters鈥�, every square inch of every gun mounting had to be cleaned to perfection and was examined by experts, the slightest smear was frowned upon and you had to start all over again, life indeed was going to be grim.

However, the gunnery itself had its compensations and I took to it like a duck takes to water. There were of course the odd punishments, but standing to attention cradling a six-inch projectile in your arms made you realise that it paid dividends to pay attention to your instructor.

Starting at the smaller four inch anti aircraft gun and its ammunition we progressed to the six-inch breech loading secondary armament and concluded with the massive fifteen-inch turrets. In sequence we were taught the drill of each and every member of the gun crew, some time in the future it may be necessary to function with only half of your crew left standing.

In addition there were the different types of shells that might have to be dealt with, time fused for aircraft, armour piercing for enemy ships, high explosive for concentrations of enemy troops etc. To conclude our training we had to learn the rudiments of fire control, range finding, deflection, and dip. To explain but one, (dip), was the allowance made for the difference between the alignment of the bore of the gun on the water line and the height of the director controller, some eighty foot plus on the wing of the bridge. As the director layer moved his binoculars up and down and along the horizon, so the pointers on the guns moved in unison and followed his binoculars.

We were taught that there was an important difference between 鈥楤earing鈥� and 鈥業nclination鈥�. Bearing was the angle formed between your own fore and aft line and your line of sight measured in degrees, Red or Green (Port or Starboard). Inclination was the angle formed between the enemies鈥� fore and aft line and your line of sight, measured in degrees left or right. After a while it all seemed as easy as pie. Little did we know that in a few short years we were to find out the hard way just how difficult and how important our training had been.

Training was essential to the safety of any ship that we were posted to in the future. We were continually being told the story of H.M.S. Devonshire in the twenties. During a firing exercise, on a misfire, the captain of the turret opened the breech prematurely. To his horror he could see that the gun had not fired. He immediately made an attempt to close the breech but as history tells us he was seconds too late, the cordite ignited, there was a tremendous explosion and the whole of the turret鈥檚 crew perished. No one will ever know the exact truth but that can only be a reasonable explanation.

We finished our course with a spate of Seamanship, running bowlines, reef knots, sheepshanks and knots that boy scouts had never even dreamed of. It was a world full of pleasant surprises and to see an eager team of youngsters rigging sheer legs was a joy to behold. I suppose the easiest way to explain 鈥榮heer legs鈥� was to say that it was three huge cylindrical beams of timber, about 15 feet long and six inches in diameter lashed together at one end and spread at the base in the shape of a triangle and hoisted erect by brute strength and resembling the framework of an Indian Tepee (Tent.) From the top dangled a block and tackle and it鈥檚 main function was a hastily erected crane for lifting gun barrels.

All clever stuff; then came Fire fighting with damage control. The intention was that at the end of our training we would be as good if not better than the Seamen on board our assigned ships. The three months soon passed and to my amazement I was now the proud possessor of my first gunnery badge. I was a paid QR 3. My qualifications later led to me passing out as a QR 2 and the magnificent increase of nine pence per day.

It had not been all work, we had our free time and of course we had made friends with the local lasses, and as we usually went ashore in pairs, it sometimes led to complications. My current buddy was a Scot, Jock Anderson. He had an accent as wide as the Clyde; we had been friends from the very first day of our enlistment and we would remain so until we were separated by the system.

On one particular night in the local amusement arcade we made the acquaintance of a sweet young thing named Iris, and being gentlemen we tossed up to see who would have the good fortune to take her home. Jock was the winner and smiling happily, he put his arm around his prize and waltzed off into the night. Although separated shortly afterwards by the requirements of the service, I heard many years later that Jock and his Iris were still a happy couple. It was unfortunate that now, I was a loner, for a short time at least, but in a port like Plymouth it was a situation that could not last for very long.

She was tall and her name was May and I suppose that the least I can do is to tell you that her family name was Italian. On our first meeting she had confided to me that at the tender age of seventeen, she was employed as a companion to two elderly ladies who went to bed at a very early hour, and if I felt so inclined as to knock lightly on the back door after eight thirty, I might be lucky enough to get some sort of refreshment before making my way back to barracks. At that time of my young and tender life I had no idea what Italian refreshments comprised of.

At the appointed time I knocked on the rear door of this very large and imposing residence and even in the dim evening light, as the door opened I could see that my first course was to be served up by a very curvaceous and stark naked temptress by the name of May. At first, I was on the point of turning and doing a runner but something inside of me led me to believe that the second course was going to be the Chef鈥檚 special, and I must confess that my imagination ran wild and overcame my more decent instincts. I allowed myself to be led like one of the seven ages of man, unwillingly to school, or could it have been, like a lamb to the slaughter? If so, death must be very pleasant indeed.

Slowly, she took my hand and led me to the sacrificial couch, and if you think that I am going into detail, you are very much mistaken. She was a young lady who believed in taking her time and experimenting, her hands and lips were everywhere and left no place undiscovered. She was also a very patient lady and at the exact moment she paused and held off. It was not her intention to see all her hard work pass by in one mad moment of passion.

Eventually, we were both in such a state that it was inevitable. I don鈥檛 know how it happened but our roles became reversed and I finished underneath. Like a well-trained jockey, she rode me to the finishing line with no intention of dismounting until she was certain that there would be no complaints about the finish.

For a short time after we cuddled and played around in the bathroom, until we both heard noises from the bedroom. Making sure that I was presentable she led me to the back door, and after a long lingering kiss, I was passed out into the cold night air. I was more than halfway to the barracks before I realised that we had both been so intent on our activities that there had been no refreshments, nor had I mistaken the wording of the invitation; no matter, there would probably be some bread and cold cheese with chutney in the dining hall.

I was famished. It has to be told in passing that back in our recruit days at the Depot in Deal, we had to attend educational lessons in between our military training, and our teacher was a young Lieutenant in the Royal Navy. His lessons on the effects of Carnal pleasures and the consequences of not taking precautions when in foreign ports, was too lurid to ignore, I cannot remember him saying anything detrimental about English ports but he did explain that whether you were on board ship or in barracks there was always a supply of free condoms to be had from the medical room, and to encourage you to use them there was no embarrassing questions asked by the duty sick berth attendants.

I have no doubt that in certain cases there were the odd raised eyebrows. The lasses that frequented the bars in the area around the barracks were renowned for their generosity. It was obvious that information was passed down from previous squads, and doubtful ladies who had earned reputations as 鈥楨asy Lays鈥� were more or less ignored by the bulk of the over careful young marines, and as far as I can remember there were no casualties reporting to the medical centre.

PR-BR

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