Marching Men and Sinking Ships

Marching Men Sinking Ships

Parade training was now intense, we were using rifles now on the parade ground, this was to practice marching with a gun and also to practice our ability to salute with a weapon, this was in preparation for our passing out parade. The next time we were on divisions we would be the guard of honour.
Time had moved on and now it was our turn to laugh at the new entries in their awkward ways, saluting the wrong people and tripping over each other.

We were spending more of our time with adventure training, compass reading, hill climbing and still those early morning runs, waking up the bootie's before going to breakfast.
A weekend sleeping rough in the Welsh Brecon Beacons orienteering and eating Pussers ration packs this provided a different type of break from the normal. The walking was tiring but we did manage to get a night at a local bar, no lassie’s this time, just old Welsh sheep farmers and the local ale. We had heard stories! We laughed at the thought and even though the sheep looked tempting to some of the Weegie’s, they were so pissed that the sheep were quite safe.

We looked forward to range training, using the different types of weapons, it was quite frightening at first but it became fun as confidence grew in our own abilities to overcome the new and unknown, I managed to excel on the firing range, enough to be awarded my marksmanship badge.

On one day we went fire fighting in a mock ship, oil fires of all different sizes were started throughout the ship. Tackling blazing, fires between decks was not easy and the training we were given provided a good insight into what to expect if it were ever to happen in real life. It was obvious now, more than ever since I had arrived in Plymouth that team work was so important.
Every day there was new tasks to complete, new things to learn including the (Naval language), Jack speak , it was so strange, completly new and very explicit but I knew it was the way of communicating, and it would be for the forseable future.

The training I knew had to be tough and realistic to provide the reality that was required to ensure that, even though recruits, on reaching our first ship we would hit the ground running.

Another day was spent on another mock ship, this occasion the task was to prevent it sinking. We approached the task with huge enthusiasm, mallets, wooden bungs, shrapnel boxes and wooden spars. The exercise starts with an explosion, the water starts rising straight away it is coming out of holes in the bulkhead out of broken pipe work and through hatch covers, the task was to stop it before it got to a certain level. Unfortunately we sunk, and unfortunately the consolation bag meal that we had for lunch never made up for the disappointment.

The ship was just a box on hydraulic legs that tipped as the water came in, it was very realistic, and as the water was rising it became more important to stop the leaks, especially when the level reached just below the family jewels, alarm bells, sirens, flashing lights caused a total cacophony, then there was no lights, we tried in vain to stem the flow of water in the dark but to no avail.

The time had almost come for our Part One training to end, HMS Raleigh was now embedded in our lives and it was a period that will never be forgotten. I was still just a boy but inside I felt I had almost come of age. Friendships were built and the shared experiences of that short time together were to provide strong bonds.

It was our last week and on the Wednesday we were due to do NBCD training and the dreaded Gas chamber, we had been fitted for our new Gas masks in the third week and now they had arrived it was time to see if they worked.

The masks had a small disc on the side like a key ring, it had our official identity number, date of birth and our religion, not a nice thought!

We marched to the gas chamber with trepidation, the fear of the unknown, it was probably the slowest pace possible without it being blatantly obvious.

On arrival we found it was another box, this time it was made of stone with a concrete lid and it had a very strong looking metal door. On entering, the feelings of nervousness were quite overpowering, the Petty Officer who was doing the dirty deed was very jovial, "nothing to worry about there is a 100% passmark required for this test he said in a protensious manner", funny guy, I thought!

We were instructed in the correct way to put a gas mask on, "any other way would not be effective", he said. As fast as _ _ _ _, was my interpretation of that comment.

The gas used was CS gas, we all had to get inside the room which meant it was busy in there, the exit was closed, we were informed that once we had proved that the mask worked, we were to remove our masks and take a lung full of gas and then vacate the compartment as quick as possible. that needn't have been said, my bodies natural reactions I knew were going to kick in.

The gas pellet was lit, and we all just stood around looking vacantly at each other, "Gas, Gas, Gas" was shouted, on went the mask having to release it from it's haversack. Two lads ran for the door straight away "to slow shouted the Petty Officer", he was grinning to himself.

We stood around for a few minutes It felt hot in there, and I could feel a burning sensation on my skin, "don't rub it Wedge, you will make it worse"!

The time had arrived "take off your masks, breath in and then leave in an orderly fashion", leaving was easy, but certainly not in an orderly fashion, survival mode kicked in, we all went for the door at the same time, arms were thrashing to reach the exit first, the room was very small but the door seemed so far away.

Eventually outside vomiting seemed the most common response, burning eyes, breathlessness, there were sailors falling over, running around and some were crying, "sounds like a night on Union street", I thought, eventually composure was regained, I was glad that it was over, never again I thought.

The two lads who ran for the door had to re-enter the box, they put their masks on before entering but they were now in the more unfortunate knowledgeable position of having seen the effects of the gas and they are going have to go through it.

After a few minutes they came flying back out and their reactions were as expected, this time it felt amusing to see, and now the Petty Officers earlier grin was understandable.

Pussers Ration Packs:

Survival food rations that come in different menu's, there is always a bar of chocolate, tea, a tin opener and some toilet paper the other ingredients vary, however, it usually all goes in one pot, even the pudding. the only thing missing is the christmas cracker joke to improve the moral.