We all alighted at Crewe station and were directed to a small branch line on the other side of the station and took the train to Alsager, about 5 miles or so on. We arrived at Alsager and walked the short distance to H.M.S. Excalibur, a Naval shore training base. We found that we were in the middle of England and in the county of Staffordshire, and not abroad.

It was late afternoon and we showed our bits of paper to the man at the main gates who took us to a building where we met more young hopefuls like us. Also, a nice man in uniform with three brass buttons on the bottom of each sleeve. He welcomed us to the King s Navy and asked us if we would like something to eat and took us through into another large room with long tables and benches. This, he said, was our Mess Deck. All of us were very hungry so whatever we ate was very welcome. After our meal we were taken to another building to collect our bedding and then we were marched to yet another building which was divided into small cubicles on either side of a corridor. Each housed two beds and we were detailed off to our allotted cubicles and told that breakfast would be at 6 o clock sharp in the morning. At 10pm another man in uniform came into our hut and shouted "Lights out, pipes out, on boxing gloves, start sleeping" and switched all the lights out.  So went my first day in the Navy!

We were awakened sharply by some fool shouting " Wakey, wakey, rise and shine. The morning s fine. Stop sleeping. Off with your boxing gloves. Hit the deck you lot".

What does he mean  boxing gloves? God knows. Still, we will no doubt be told later on. He continued to shout this as he went through the hut.

All this shouting was coming from a Petty Officer. He was still shouting on his way back through the hut. Then, he started pulling some of us out of our beds.

What s the bloody time?  I heard someone say it was 05.30.

This brought the reply, "I thought breakfast wasn t until 6 o clock".

On your feet you horrible lot said the PO, And I want you all washed, shaved, dressed and fell in outside in 15 mins sharp!! This was our introduction to our new PO Drill Instructor.

It was dark and cold when we got fell in outside. We were then marched to the galley mess deck for our first breakfast.  After breakfast we were marched to the medical officer s hut for yet another check over and jabs. Then off to get our uniforms, kit bag, hammock, etc. We then took all of this to a large room and laid it out, for marking our names on our new kit. Black ink for white kit, white ink for black kit , said the PO.  his took quite some time. Two Newcastle lads starting arguing and started pushing one another about and then they started flicking paint at each other and finished throwing the pots of paint at each other. The rest of us were horrified and kept well away. Luckily they only damaged their kits and some other chap's kit. They got taken away and we didn t see them again. We then left our new kit laid out to dry for collection the next day.

The rest of the day was spent learning to march up and down, or trying to, but to our horror the PO Instructor had a speech impediment, so when he shouted out the orders Left or Right or About Turn only half of us got it right, and he didn t like it. And neither did we.

What for God sake did he say?  we regularly asked each other.  When we had rifles it only got worse. If we didn t understand he would send us to run around the parade ground with our rifle above our heads a few times. (The rifle weighed about 9lb). In the evening, in our hut, we planned ways and means of revenge and what we could do to the little bastard, and ways we could do it. Each of us wrote down our methods and the best one for the day was adopted. This became our nightly relief and recreation and applied in fact to any other B-person who administered ungentlemanly words or deeds on us that day.

The winter was beginning to set in and it was getting colder. The square bashing was getting harder by the day.  On one occasion, we were marched off the parade ground to the medical hut to have more jabs.  We were lined up in squads (classes) outside the hut when of the biggest chaps in another squad, who had already had their jabs, keeled over and fell on his bayonet, which went through his chin and out of his mouth. He was carted off and we didn t see him again.

Twice a week we would go to a large lake near Crewe for boat drill, which was taken by another instructor who spoke Scottish, another language we couldn t understand.  The boat was a whaler, (a large rowing boat), with oars as large as lampposts; two men per thwart, (a seat that goes across the boat). The oar is placed in a rowlock, which is a  U piece on the outer edge of the boat. I found it very difficult to keep the oar straight which required me to hold both my arms out straight while pushing down the weight of the oar at the same time. Plus, my hands were very cold and I could not always understand this horrible Scottish gent. He would walk up the middle of the boat via the thwarts and hit you across your hands if you dipped the oar out of line, [another PO instructor to have his fate planned out for him].  His name was Robert Beattie. I was to meet him again 50 years later at the AEB. He was then Doctor R Beattie, a very nice man, as he was then, no doubt, except to new recruits!

We were given Xmas leave and as I had been allotted two large tins of tobacco I decided I would take one home  for Lincoln, which meant smuggling it out of course. I flattened the tin as much as possible so I could tie it around one of my legs and under my trousers. I was wearing an overcoat anyway so it wouldn t be seen, but as we were lined up in marching order of three lines deep to be marched out of barracks came the order, Off coats, for inspection by the officer of the watch.  When I took my overcoat off it revealed a lump that the tin of tobacco made on my leg so I started to undo the string around my waist to move the lump out of the way. This caused all the others into near panic. It appeared I wasn't the only one smuggling tobacco out that day. Having undone the string to move the tin out of the way meant the tin was loose and could fall out my trouser leg when I moved off.  It didn t and I got away with it, but I never did that ever again. However, Lincoln was pleased with the tin of compressed tobacco and that s all that mattered.

My Christmas with the Bright family was lovely. It was the sort of Christmas you imagined Christmas to be like plenty of good food, games with nice people who made me part of the family, which was my best Christmas present!

We all came back after our Christmas leave to H.M.S. Excaliber to continue the basic training wishing we could have stayed at home, but after a few days we all began to buckle down to it again.

The other thing that happened, that shook us up badly, was a chap stole a pair of boots and was caught. We were all paraded on the parade ground and in front of all the ships company he was publicly dismissed from the Service. Now I didn t like the Navy that much; not at all in fact, but I wasn t in favour of leaving in that fashion.

So ended my basic training and some of us were drafted to Wetherby in Yorkshire to H.M.S. Ceres for stewardship training. This wasn t such hard work as basic training and we did not spend as much time outside thank goodness!

The winter of  46 was getting very bad, with heavy snowfalls and icy cold winds. I remember on shore leave we would go into Leeds by bus, which could just about get through the roads for the snow.  From the top of the hill looking down over the countryside the roads looked like deep cuts in a blanket of snow. Icicles hung from the roofs to the ground.

At last we were in Portsmouth to finish our stewardship training in H.M.S. Victory RNB (Royal Navy Barracks).  I was to remain in RNB after my training for about six months. I liked that. It meant I could spend some time in Petersfield with my new found family when I was on shore leave. After a while I asked if I could go to sea and eventually I was given a draft to H.M.S. Maidstone, a submarine depot ship moored in Portland Bay, Dorset.

I arrived in Portland late one evening and it was dark. Across the bay you could see what looked like another town all lit up. As the motor launch I was being ferried across on dew nearer I could see it was a large liner. In fact it was the Maidstone.  Once aboard, climbing the stairway to the  Well Deck , I reported to the regulating office.  I had joined Maidstone as a member of her crew. This ship seemed vast and it was going to take forever to find my way around it.  The next morning I was mustered with our duties and  watches. These are types of guard duty usually performed after day work. Then he asked if anyone would like to volunteer to become the Commander s Steward with no watches and hardly any duties, and to take a step forward. I volunteered and took a step forward.  I heard the others say around me,  Come back you fool , but alas it was too late. When we were dismissed to our duties I was told to report to the Officer's Staff Room and collect the Commander s papers, and then report to him in his cabin with a cup of tea.

Eventually, I found myself outside the Commanders cabin.  I knocked on the door and heard a loud,  "Come in".  I slid the door open.  Who the f---ing hell are you? Shut the door; don t just stand there.  Give me those papers and for God sake put the tea down before you slop it on the desk .  I was now beginning to shit myself, and remembering what the others had said about him.  He was shortish, about 50, in his underwear and still rambling on.  So far I hadn t dared say a word, other than to say I was his new steward.

 Hope you are better than those other f---ers I ve been given.  Give this lot to the staff room and I don t want to see you again today. I was out of that cabin like a shot.  All day I pondered as to why, oh why did I have to volunteer for this?

The next morning, having been to the staff room, I stood outside the Commander's cabin hesitating whether to knock on the door or to make a run for it and tell the chief I m not up to it.  Anyway I couldn t do that so I knocked on the door, slid it open violently and shouted loudly,  Good morning sir; your papers and tea, sir .

Alright, alright steward put the stuff on the table you don t have to make all that noise. Tell me, what s your name? Gray isn t it?

 Yes sir .

 Now Gray, please don t make all that noise when you come in here again .  He started to talk to me like a normal person would. He also started asking questions about the papers; asking my opinion on whether he should do this or that. After I got outside the cabin I began to realise that speaking up firmly to him was the answer. And that was another lesson in life Bertie learnt that day. Apparently, he had come up from the lower decks and was put on the Maidstone as a disciplinarian to firm up the discipline of the ship, and by all accounts he was doing just that. Everybody was in fear of him. Officers in particular!  When I visited the Officers  staff room the submarine captains would ask me to do them a favour and get the Commander to sign their store chits, etc. They even got me piped to the Quarter Deck for much the same thing.  When I gave these papers to him I would say,  Perhaps you should sign this one sir?.  Why?  he would say and I would plead on their behalf.  More often than not he would sign.  If I wanted to go ashore, on the pretence of shopping for his lordship, a motor launch would be piped for me.  Perhaps volunteering isn t such a bad thing after all!

But I didn t have it all my own way. Once I got caught in some of his disciple after I was smoking in the flats, (passage ways). I dropped the used match stick by mistake on the deck.  Out of nowhere came two or three fully belted and gaitered men who escorted me to the duty Officer of the Watch. They showed him the evidence my used match stick.  Then one of them was relieved of the belt and gaiters and they were given to me. I then had to wear full uniform belt and gaiters after work each day and patrol the ship, up and down, until lights out around 11pm, looking for someone to drop fag ends, matches, a bit of paper, anything. It took several days for me to find someone and then I was released.  Naturally the Commander knew of my plight, laughed and did nothing.

By this time I was allowed to play the organ in the ship's church in the evening and spent many hours doing so, only to get roped in occasionally to play the organ for church services.

Submitted by Bert