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.. ...HMS Juno 1970, my first ship and first time at sea.
It's 06:00 and I'm on watch in the MCO and wish to remain anonymous.
Biffo buzzes down from the bridge "Quickly, send up a bucket".
So I leg it up to the bridge as fast as my little legs could go, bucket in hand thinking that someone had been sick.
Biffo stared at me in wonderment a puzzled look on his face and then screamed out for all to hear.........
"I meant a SIGNAL bucket you wanker not a scrubbing bucket" then puts the signal in the bucket I'm holding.
Dutifully and wiser, I carried the bucket back down to MSO still with the signal inside.
When I arrived at the MSO, word had already arrived and I was greeted by another buntin' grinning from ear to ear and pointing in the direction of the pneumatic tubes.
At the tender age of seventeen I was on watch on the flagdeck of the good ship Bulwark.
I had strict instructions from the Chief Yeoman that in the event I saw black smoke coming out the funnel, I was to inform the bridge immediately. Unfortunately, the Chief Yeoman failed to point out that there were actually two funnels within the only big one that I could see.
For days my eyes were transfixed on this funnel, just waiting for one bit of black smoke to appear and inform all Russian submarines within 100 miles our position. Suddenly, my dreams were realised. A mass of thick black smoke billowed out and I lunged for the microphone to report this breach of national security. The report was as follows:
"Bridge - Flag deck?"
"Bridge!"
"We're making black smoke"
"Which end signalman?"
"The fucking top end."
"Signalman report to the bridge."
I legged it down to the bridge wondering, in my moment of triumph, why something had gone sadly wrong.
The Navigating Officer, to whom I had been speaking unknowingly, because it should have been another signalman at the end of the microphone left me in no doubt what had gone sadly wrong.
1. Swearing at an officer
2. Not being aware that the reason the apparently stupid question had been asked was that they needed to know which funnel the smoke was coming from to inform the appropriate engine room.
It was only the skipper rolling around the bridge holding his ribs that stopped me ending up on Jimmy's report.submitted by Pusser Hills
.. the opening line of ex-sparker Tom Moultrie's bridegroom speech yesterday "I am
to speech-making what King Herod was to baby care ... "
submitted by Rob Monoghan
Just before Christmas 1973 on HMS Malabar (shore-base in Bermuda for our
younger readers), it's Christmas Party night and I'm on night watch in the
comcen with my mate Jock Wotsisname (memory playing up - I'm good on faces,
crap on names). Tom Moultrie who's off watch and at the piss-up feels sorry
for us and brings us a few beers .. a good man is Tom .. Anyway, about
03:00 I went for a piss and unfortunately so did Jock and we found
ourselves locked out of the comcen. As bad luck would have it the 1st Lt
phoned at about 03:30 and receiving no answer from the comcen he then
called the admin / security AB. Jock and I now realised we were in trouble
so we got a bloody great metal bar (that we stoked the incinerator with)
and battered down the comcen door. We got rid of the evidence but to no
avail .. we'd been grassed by the security AB. We're still looking for you
Mr Fletcher!!submitted by Rob Monoghan
As an RO3 on Bulwark, I was assigned to the 3 months communal duties thingy and after several
top brass meetings, they decided I would do less damage working in the dining room party.
After one month, I proved so good at my job that I was promoted to be in charge of the bread and
butter machine. This was a huge device. At one end whole uncut loaves were fed in on a
conveyor belt, and margarine by the bucketful was stuck in the vat at the top.
Press the button and hey presto, sliced bread and butter would come out the other end. In the
handover I was instructed not to tamper with the speed control and I followed that advice
for two days until I got really bored on the third day.
I moved the speed leaver to max and pressed the on button. Fuck me. First thing I had to do was save my life.
As I ran for the door, I have never seen so many airborne pieces of sliced bread and butter if any.
It looked like a tornado had hit the Hovis factory at the same time as hitting the Stork margarine factory.
I managed to get out of the door and push it shut, and then started unpeeling the bread and butter
that was stuck all over me. That amounted to a couple of loaves full.
Eventually, I deemed it safe to go back in. The machine was still going full pelt, trying to spread
margarine on the now non existent bread as it had been used up. The room was a picture. I had
created the biggest sandwich in the history of mankind. It was indeed a proud moment. It was
just wall to wall bread and butter and fully fitted bread carpeting. The only thing in
the whole room unscathed was the machine itself.
I was not only demoted from Captain of the bread machine, I was taken out of the dining hall
party altogether and placed under the care of the Padre as his messenger. As one of the very
few mistakes our Creator has made, this was destined to be a bad move.
...and that is a cue for another tot time tale at a later date
Pusser
Pussers Red Devil (Royal Navy Bike)
Once again on Bulwark, (incidentally, I calculated I spent one third of the entire 18 month commission under punishment - is this a record?), I was under punishment. It was Christmas in Honky Fid so I volunteered to swap duties so the duty signalman could go ashore. I couldn't go ashore
obviously because I was under punishment. I became the duty signalman on duty all Christmas day and was surprised to hear while having breakfast that all men under punishment would be allowed ashore. I am sure they did this as they knew I had just swapped duties.
Shortly after breakfast, the beer came out and as a 17 year old, a few cans and I was out of this world. At lunch time, I was due to make my second run on the Pusser's Red Devil to Tamar to collect our signals, mostly naveams which I used to throw away as I couldn't see the point in having them. I found out later in my career it is actually a good idea to at least give them to the Navigating Officer so he can bring his charts up to date.
Just as I was about to go ashore, the three badge fuckalls insisted I go to Tamar, then through the dockyard gate, stop off at a specific bar, buy bottles of booze with the money they gave me, and come back in the dockyard via the alternative gate and that way I wouldn't get caught. I did this and got caught by the OOD as he thought it strange me using the forward gangway rather than the aft one where he was. He found 5 bottles of booze and then surprisingly let me off with a warning. Gratefully I took the bottles down the mess and the booze was mixed in with the rum in the rum fanny. To this was added ormig juice and a few things I was too young to know about.
For my efforts I was awarded a glass of my very own rum\whiskey\gin\vodka\brandy\ormig juice and after I had drunk that I was given gulpers as a mark of gratitude from the others. Soon it was time to get the 16:00 signals from Tamar and they kindly tried to sober me up with cans of beer. This didn't work very well.
I was helped up to the gangway and as the OOD was absent, carried down the gangway and stuck on the bike. I was given even more money to purchase booze using the same infallible technique as before. So they said.
I can't actually remember what happened from approx 13:00 so I have to rely heavily on what was said at Captains defaulters the next day.
Captain: Please explain what happened to Hills on Christmas Day Sub Lt. (Fuck knows)
OOD: As I was returning to the quarter deck, I was nearly bowled over by half the communication branch rushing back to their mess. I understand from the bosun's mate that they had carried Hills down the gangway and put him on the bicycle.
Captain: Was Hills gone by the time you got there.
OOD: No sir, he was cycling around in circles and it seemed he couldn't remember which way to go. I called out to him but he just saluted and shot off apparently heading for the alternative dockyard gate. I telephoned the dockyard gate but Hills shot through while I was actually speaking to the police. They said they would apprehend him on his return. However, it appears that Hills decided to come back in through the main gate and as the police had been informed by their counterparts, tried to apprehend him. Shortly after that was when I saw Hills hurtle around the corner with two dockyard police running after him. Shall I go on sir?
Captain: Please do Sub Lt. (Fuck Knows)
OOD:- It appears that Hills was so intent on the police behind him that he failed to notice the tram lines where the dockyard cranes run up and down and the bicycle tyres got stuck in the rails. Hills shot straight past the ship, saw me waving and waved back and then disappeared into the harbour, just missing a moored American minesweeper. A duty sailor on the minesweeper, dived in and pulled Hills out. The bike was lost but Hills managed to save the bottles of alcohol which were in his signal bag.
Captain: Did Hills say anything Sub Lt. (Fuck Knows)
OOD: Yes Sir. He wished me a Merry Christmas and a better New Year than he was going to have.
For that, I was awarded another 14 days number nines to run from the end of the current 14 days number nines and I had to pay £25 towards the cost of a new Pussers Red Devil.
Pusser
The three best things in life are a good landing, a good orgasm, and a
good shit.A night carrier landing is one of the few opportunities to
experience all three at the same time.
At HMS Ganges, circa 1961, it was customary to parade on Sunday mornings
followed by a visit to the local church for Sunday morning service.
Divisions and the Church Service were all overseen by the Chief Gunnery Instructor,
a man whose uniform had been painted on with the skill of Bottichelli and creases and
specks of dust quivered whenever his name was mentioned.
He had a voice that inspired the Big Bang theory and even Lucifer must be
a tad apprehensive on the day this man arrives at the gates of hell. At least
that is how it looked from a 15 year old boys point of view.
Divisions had finished and we were marched to the church and the routine was that
Officers and their wives went in first followed by Non Commissioned Officers and their
wives and finally us lot who had to march in, off caps
as we went through the church door and peeled off left and right
into the pews.
On this Sunday, and I shall never forget it, a poor unfortunate wretch marched
proudly into the church but forgot to remove his hat.
Immediately, the Gunnery Officers head went back, his body
stiffened, his mouth opened like the doors on a cross channel ferry.
"WHERE YOU GOING LAD. TAKE YOUR FUCKING 'AT OFF IN
THE 'OUSE OF THE LORD, YOU CUNT."
Succinct?
submitted by Pusser Hills
It was 1967. The spring.
The night was overcast, grim and menacing. Owls screeched and the blustery windsighed as though in anguish through the branches of the trees.
Two fresh-faced matelots were on foot patrol 0200-0400. The main househad been patrolled, the security book in the captain's office
signed and two of his cigars from the silver box on his desk pocketed.
Eagle block was to be our next call. We drew the keys from the OOW andproceeded past the unlit clock towards its double doors. The foyer was black.
Our MOD (Navy) issue torches feebly probed the darkness. The batteries were failing.
We checked the classrooms on the ground floor then went upstairs to check theclassrooms up there and sign the book. There was a very uncomfortable feeling
in the air which made one's breath seem loud and produced a clamminess
on one's brow and neck. The atmosphere was almost electric - as if there was
something waiting to happen. No-one liked checking out
Eagle Block. They would rather have gone to North Camp.
We were about to lock the main door when we noticed light showingat the base of the male lavatory door - it had not been there when we
entered. We whispered to each other - don't remember what - but my heart started to pound.
The two of us moved forward towards the toilet door slowly, reluctantly. A footwas pushed against the door and it opened without a sound. The light streamed
out into the foyer and revealed the features of two very apprehensive lads. I grasped
my leaded baton tightly, as if for strength and comfort. I was also holding my breath.
One of the cubicles' doors was closed - the others were all wide open. From thesafety of the doorway I kneeled down and could see under its door.....GOD!! I
could see a pair of shiny black shoes, with dark trousers above. My mind reeled
and I felt sick and elated at the same time. We looked at each other and ran for
the main door. I slammed it shut and fumbled with the key to lock it and
whatever it was safely away from me. We both ran to the OOW and blurted
out to the PO of the Watch what we had encountered. He scoffed. We swore it was true.
After some minutes he decided to go to Eagle Block with us. Opening thefront door there was not a light to be seen. The PO of the Watch turned on
the main lights in the foyer and we went to the lavatory. We turned on its light.
All the cubicles were vacant, their doors open. The cistern in the cubicle
previously occupied finished filling up. All the classrooms were
checked, and the ladies lavatory. All were empty.
No explanation was ever found.
But it is a true story. I was there. It did happen.P. Devine
Answer:
During the Borneo confrontation in the sixties, we used to receive
a confidential signal every week with the main headline events.
One week it read, " Two man Gurkha patrol ambushed by
30 Indonesian regulars. One Indonesian escaped suspected wounded, 29 killed.
Ginge Graham, RO2 sparker on Bulwark in the early sixties.
He had an eye tattooed on each arse cheek.
One night he came back off shore on a bum boat from Bali, a tad worse
for wear and was seen struggling to get up the wibbly wobbly steps
onto Bulwark when the Bosun's Mate spotted sharks.
Immediately the young lad shouted out "SHARKS"!
Ginge immediately flung himself off the steps and dived
into the sea and headed for the shore.
Later on that day at defaulters, when asked by the Jimmy why he had dived
into the sea he answered, "I heard the bosun's mate shout out sharks and thought he
meant they were up on the quarterdeck."