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COMMISSIONS (WAR) CANDIDATE
Fed up and tired, lugging kitbag and hammock around all day, as I wrote in my diary, my first action was to request In From Sea Leave. I was granted fourteen days, and paid, and caught the 1325 train home, arriving at 1630. I spent my leave in all the activities previously described, but on the Saturday paid £7-7-0 for my old Goldklang guitar. On Sunday 3rd, the 5th anniversary of the outbreak of War, I noted, Went upstairs to sleep instead of under the stairs, as Pilotless Planes (V1's) seem to have died out. What a relief.
The Disney film Fantasia was being shewn at Studio One, near Oxford Circus Station. I saw it for the second time on Monday 4th, and next day I bought records of two of the items - The Sorcerer's Apprentice and Night on Bald Mountain, and took my mother and grandmother to see it again. For a time I was able to count how many times I had seen it by remembering the supporting films, but after seven or eight I lost even this count; and now I have the Video Cassette. Considering the enormous and lasting success of this film I have been perpetually surprised that Disney never chose another set of classical pieces for Fantasia 2.
On Friday the 8th I spent a day at Westerham, meeting my father's colleagues at Valence and returning home with him on the train. I noted two mysterious explosions about 1800 - probably V2 weapons.
At 1400 on the 14th I was back in Portsmouth. I went ashore at 1630 and met Wren Margery Francis, an Infant-School classmate (Ph3,16&20) who lived in the maisonette below that of my grandmother in Warkworth Road, and I slept at the Royal Sailors' Rest at North End. Next day I endured the dreaded Entry Routine. My diary entry read: Pronounced, after much tedious trudging, Ophthalmically Fit (retaining both eyes), Medically Fit (got tin hat), Physically Fit (got gaiters), Dentally Fit (got the blues), Aurically Fit (got tired), Neurogically Fit, (got no nerves), Passed Night-Vision Test (got carrots), Got Gassed in Gas-Chamber, Feel an Absolute Wreck. The night-vision test involved sitting in a red light for twenty minutes and then identifying an invisible indicator in the dark, which I found quite easy.
One result of leaving Watchman was that my Hard-Laying Money ceased, and I was much aware of my reduced circumstances, but having reached the age of twenty I was able to request to change from Under Age to Temperance, and draw 3d per day in lieu of grog.
On the Saturday I was on Duty Watch, Number 4 Emergency Platoon, Drawn for Church Party tomorrow. Down in mouth, down in the dumps, down among the dead men, down in R.N.B. - What a dump! On the Sunday I fell in at 0920 wearing my Number One suit, with gaiters, belt, chin-strap down, with rifle and fixed bayonet, and at 1200 a contingent of 100 of us led a procession to and from Portsmouth Cathedral and then past the saluting-base on the Guildhall steps. This was to celebrate the 4th Anniversary of The Battle of Britain. The salute was taken by the Lord Mayor, Sir Dennis Daley. There were Army and Air Force contingents, plus Police, Fire Service and other Civil Defence units, and Cadets, headed by the Massed R.N.School of Music Bands.
The CW tests began on Monday 18th, - seamanship, signals, and mathematics, to assess what training I should undergo. One Lieutenant Hill gave us a talk about H.M.S.Excalibur, the Assessment Board Establishment. At 1130 I was prescribed two weeks' Seamanship, two weeks' Navigation, and one week Power of Command, and met Margery ashore at 1700, went to the cinema, and slept at the RSR. On the 19th I joined Anson Class, and began on the Seamanship. For two weeks we had practical lessons, instructional films and talks and lectures about splicing, sound (siren) signals, sailing, sheer-legs, patent slip-gear for boats, blocks and tackle, anchors and cables, knots and more splicing, boat-work, and compass and helm. This was interspersed with various other activities, including a very good talk by Frazer McKenzie on Current Affairs, spells with the Duty Platoon, Discussion groups, sentry-duty at the Armoury (0600 to 0730, and 2300 to 0100), Squad Drill, Kit Inspections, and Church Parades with Commodore's Inspection. Once we performed Physical-Training Drill on the Parade-Ground to music from the Marine Band - five hundred men doing their daily dozen to Donauwellen.
On alternate days when granted shore-leave from 1630 I met Margery for cinema-visits. I also discovered a kind of Heaven-on-Earth for Sailors. The owner of a stately home called Ditcham Park had loaned it to the British Sailors' Society. On going ashore we were able to ask in the Chaplain's Office for a large green Ditcham Disc, which served to allow us free railway travel to Woodcroft Halt, entrance to Ditcham Park, and permission to return a little later than the official time in the morning. We had very good meals, dormitory-accommodation in stately bedrooms, opportunities for walks in the grounds and lanes, and the use of the lounge which contained a grand piano, an organ, and a Player piano. There was accommodation for 100 of us, a chapel and a billiard-room, a golf-course, a putting-course, film-shows, table-tennis and chess, and for 4/6d we were given lunch at 1300, afternoon tea, dinner at 1800, sandwiches at 2200, and breakfast at 0615 in time to catch the train back to Barracks. At Ditcham I made two very good friends, Fred Cardnell and Bart (Harry Bartholomew), fellow-CW's. Bart had been a salesman in the Gas Company Showrooms in Palmer's Green, and I visited him there once after the War. He was a highly-accomplished pianist, with 'perfect pitch', and sitting nearby when he played, mostly Chopin, was a joy and privilege. He always concluded by playing J.Ellerton's Hymn, Saviour, again to Thy Dear Name we raise With one accord our parting hymn of praise, to the tune Ellers by E.J.Hopkins. I wrote to Ditcham after the war, and received a reply from a member of the family of the previous owners, the house being then in use as a girls’ school.
On Monday October 2nd we had a one-day fire-fighting course at Stamshaw, which followed precisely the routine I have described in a previous chapter. The next day was spent on Power of Command, but at noon on Wednesday 4th I was drafted to H.M.S.Victory - Nelson's Flagship in H.M.Dockyard, I was allocated to Number 2 Mess, (Middle Gun-Deck, Starboard Side, For'ard), and we slept in hammocks on the Lower Gun-Deck. However, although quartered on board Victory, we completed our week at Power of Command, marching to and from the Barracks for the purpose. Courts-Martial are held in Nelson's cabin, and one day we had to help to prepare the court-room.
On the Saturday morning I joined a work-ship party to scrub-out the Pitt Street Baths, went on leave at 1215, caught the 1250 train to Waterloo, and was home by 1600, catching the 2145 train back to Portsmouth on the Sunday. I have mentioned that in Plymouth it was risky to travel to London without a leave-pass because the Station was policed by Naval Patrols. The same applied in Portsmouth, but the electric trains to London took only about an hour on the journey and stopped at more stations, so the trick was to go by 'bus to Fratton Park Station, the first up the line, and board there, alighting there also on return. I cannot remember using this method. I expect I felt that I did not wish to put my CW chances at risk.
I had a small accident aboard Victory. When getting out of a hammock aboard a modern ship, amongst all the rods and pipes and fittings attached to the deck-head one can always find something overhead to grab whilst lowering oneself to the deck, but on waking one morning on the Lower Gun Deck, with nothing above me except foot-square oak beams, my hands found nothing to grab and I fell to the deck and broke the middle joint of the middle finger of my left hand. The deck-heads are very low, but after bumping my head once I acquired the necessary stooping gait.
On the 9th we started our Navigation Classes, in Nelson's Cabin, but next day we had a special talk in R.N.B. by Vice-Admiral Summerville, introduced by Admiral Little, on the Far East. It seemed at that time that the War with Germany would soon be over, and that we would soon all be going to the Pacific for a long and very bloody war against Japan. He delighted the troops by saying, Contrary to what you men may have heard, in the Far East it does not run this way, (drawing a short horizontal line in the air with finger-and-thumb) but this way, (drawing a short vertical line) as in England. His hearers obliged with an enthusiastic cheer, but unfortunately we could not see the faces of the middle-aged Wren Officers in the front row. Another day we had a lecture on Australia by a Lieutenant-Colonel.
The instruction in Navigation dealt with the reading of charts, calculating of courses, speeds, and ETA's (Expected Time of Arrival) by use of parallel-rulers, dividers, and triangles and parallelograms of forces to allow for winds and currents, the recognition of navigation-lights (flashing and occulting) and of all types of buoys according to their shapes (cylindrical, conical, spherical) and colours) used to denote port-hand, starboard-hand, middle-ground, or wrecks.
The Ship was open to visitors, and many Americans and Wrens came aboard, but it was our home too, so if we happened to be naked when they went past, that was their hard luck. I snatched a three-day Interim Leave and went home from the 17th to the 20th, and thus I was one of the Ship's Company of Victory on October 21st, the 139th Anniversary of the Death of Nelson at Trafalgar. On the 20th a Polish Admiral and some of his Staff came aboard at 0900 and laid a wreath on Nelson's death-place, after which they dined with Admiral Little and some of his Staff in Nelson's Cabin. On Trafalgar Day at Colours (0900) a Guard of Honour came from R.N.B., and afterwards the Captain gave us a short talk on the history and a few reflections. He said that the upper masts and rigging were not erected because the cordage required was not available in Wartime, otherwise we would have been flying Nelson's Signal, though perhaps it was also a measure to minimise possible damage during air-raids. Officially no climbing was allowed, but one evening after dusk, when the Quartermaster was otherwise engaged, I managed to climb to the first platform, which was only about 100' above the deck.
On the 25th we had a very good lecture by a Netherlander called Van der Lahn. I was drafted back to H.M.S.Victory, the Royal Naval Barracks, from H.M.S.Victory, (Ship) on the 27th.
The regular cooks did not supply our suppers, since there were so few of us on board. We therefore took turns to cook, and one night I actually fried sausages and chips for about fifteen men, and was commended. There were two or three Southern Rhodesians with us. I fear that I found them to be boasters and liars, but perhaps this was their defence against their apprehension that we might despise them as colonials.

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