The Dit Continues

Now I realise that I ought to remember what the weather was doing on July 12th 1977, after all it was such an important event in my life. For those who don't know what I am talking about you ought to read the previous blog. For on that auspicious date I was destined to join the Royal Navy. As a new entrant I was given a list of bits of kit that I was meant to turn up with. These items included pajamas and vests, both things that I hadn't worn since I was about 5. There was also something called a housewife, now calm yourselves as this is basically a sewing kit for running repairs. So with everything shoved into a holdall and a packed lunch it was down to the train station, and a trip into the great unknown.

So I first had to travel up to London, and then go across town on the tube to Paddington station. From there it was all the way down to the West Country and Plymouth. Even though the family had previously been down that way on holidays, that was the first time that I had undertaken a journey of that distance on my own. Knowing me, after reading my travel documents for about the fourth time, I would have started to wonder if anyone else on the train was also destined for HMS Raleigh, and I would have tried to spot who they were. Also knowing my powers of observation one could have been sat next to me and I would have missed him. As far as I can recollect nothing untoward happened on the train journey, and eventually the train pulled into the station at Plymouth. My introduction to Naval life was a Petty Officer in uniform shouting up the platform "Any new entrants for HMS Raleigh muster outside on the Naval bus". Well talk about the red carpet treatment, or maybe I was just easily impressed. On this blue bus there were a handful of young lads looking anywhere but at each other, I think that it is safe to say that we were all slightly nervous.

After about half an hour the same Petty Officer got onto the bus, as there were no more trains due in for a while. Maybe he wanted to get rid of us before we started having second thoughts. So with the old Naval bus coughing and wheezing we left the station and headed for the Torpoint ferry. Nobody had mentioned about sea travel quite so early in our Naval careers, maybe it was a test to see if you had your 'sea-legs'. Those who have braved the Torpoint ferry will know that the crossing is quite short. Once on the other side we headed for our new home HMS Raleigh. Now this establishment has been responsible for looking after new Naval recruits, on the opposite side of the road was HMS Fisgard which dealt with baby artificers. Now when I went for my interview at the careers office I was asked if I had any inclination towards becoming an artificer (commonly known as a tiff). My elder brother had clued me up on these tiffs, 'they can tell you the cubic capacity of a jam jar, but they can't get the lid off', so that had ruled out that avenue for me.

No, being in a get your hands dirty sort of environment sounded much more appealing to me. So it was a left turn from the main road and into HMS Raleigh for us lot. Now the powers that be had thought about things and all of us new guys were kept separate from the salty sea dogs who had amassed at least a week of Naval life. We were ensconced in something called the New Entry Division, supposedly out of harm's way and all of the horror stories about how tough Naval life really was. I seem to remember that one of the first tasks was to grab a bed and then make it. Some people had never heard of hospital corners, and those of us who had were able to help out. At least it helped to thaw the ice, if not break it. There was a steady trickle of fresh faces coming into this dormitory and eventually there must have been about 40 of us in there. No one really talking, just sorting our bed spaces out while lost in their own thoughts. The next surprise was we were informed that at 2200 hours it would be 'lights out' and we would be getting a 'shake' at 0600. Did these times really exist? Sure enough 2200 came round and all of the lights were switched off, it is an unusual feeling trying to go to sleep surrounded by 39 other people. No one really wanting to make a sound for fear of disturbing someone else. Then all of a sudden someone calls out "It's alright Elizabeth, you can come out now". Well that was it, and the micky taking and sniggering started. It was all cut short by the duty Petty Officer sticking his head round the door and telling us all to 'Shitn'it', we correctly guessed this meant keep quiet. Unfortunately the floodgates were opened and people were trying to disguise sniggers behind coughs, and it seemed as though there was a contest for who could fart the loudest or longest. I guess that you could say that the ice had been well and truly broken by then.