Chapter 10 Capt Davies' Book; A Spot of PT; Suspense; War Signal Station

CAPTAIN DAVIES' BOOK

ORDINARY Seaman Charlie Wells distinguished himself the very first morning he was on board H.M.A.S. N-. He remarked to the coxswain that the ship seemed to have everything "on a split yam".

"What?" said the coxswain.

"She has everything on a split yarn," repeated Charlie, slowly and confidently.

The coxswain assured Charlie that it did not register. Then Charlie explained. Everything "on a split yarn" meant everything "ready at a moment's notice". He then added that, although he had only just joined the Navy, he had prepared himself thoroughly for the Service beforehand. He had bought a book called "Naval Terms, including Sailors' Slang", by Captain Davies, R.N.R.( ret.).

It took only a few hours for Charlie's faux pas to spread from the P.Os' mess to the mess decks, and, somehow or other, to the wardroom.

But before the laughing had died down, Charlie erred again. Two signalmen were discussing Charlie and he heard one of them say, "That new bloke Wells is wet."

That meant something to Charlie - "denotes that the person referred to is not well versed in Service ways", to be precise. It was a pretty deep blow to Charlie, and, flushed with rage, he called out to the signalman, "What's that? I'm wet, am I? Well, come on. I want to square yards with you."

Of course, that meant quite a lot to Charlie.

It was perfectly clear to him. He remembered Captain Davies' definition: "To square yards with" meant "to settle, or have it out with". But to the signalmen and to the rest of the ship it meant nothing. It convulsed all hands with laughter. The story flashed straight to the P.Os' mess, and aft to the wardroom.

So, within a few hours, Charlie became known to the whole ship's company. It seemed that he was fifteen when war broke out. He lived not far from Broken Hill, and had been longing to join the Navy all his life. When war came, Charlie resolved to enlist in the Navy as soon as he was old enough. During those two long years of waiting, he determined to learn all he could of the Navy. He wanted to be a real sailor. That was what he wanted more than anything - to be a real sailor. He sent to Sydney for a naval dictionary, and the book he received, Captain Davies' "Naval Terms, including Sailors' Slang", became his Bible.

Charlie's life story spread around the ship as quickly as his early faux pas did. Everybody on board knew everything about Charlie, and everybody laughed at him. Under these circumstances most men would have abandoned the use of dictionary terms, but not Charlie. He had character. He also had his ambition to be a real sailor. So Charlie persisted with his Naval Terms and Sailors' Slang. Nobody minded very much. As a matter of fact, it made life a little brighter.

Life needed a little brightening then. H.M.A.S. N------- was operating around New Guinea, and Japanese bombers gave her a lot of attention. There were many near misses and things generally were fairly tense. Charlie still did his bit towards the merriment of the ship; quite unconsciously, of course. He'd come out with some remarkable naval term when least expected, and another "Charlie joke" would whiz around the ship.

Once during a persistent attack by Japanese bombers, Charlie was heard shouting, "Top your boom, you little swine, top your boom."

Charlie assured everybody that "Top your boom", according to Captain Davies' excellent book, when addressed to an unwanted person, means "go away".

When things cooled off a bit after the bombing, the whole ship's company rocked with laughter. Charlie had done it again. Top your boom.

Then came the day when N- was attacked by twenty-seven dive bombers. She put up a tremendous barrage, made violent turns, exceeded her designed speed, but to no avail. She received two direct hits and began to sink. The Captain ordered abandon ship, but the Japs were relentless. They screamed down without mercy, machine-gunning the ship's company as they slid down the side into the water.

That was where Charlie came into the limelight again. Charlie was stationed at one of the machine guns on the bridge and, as the ship started to list, Charlie and his gun were perched up in the air. Charlie kept firing at the Jap planes as they skimmed over the ship. Soon Charlie and his wing of the bridge were about all that was left of the ship above the water.

Charlie kept on firing. He was yelling savagely at the planes as he swung his machine gun around. He looked a gallant but pathetic little figure, alone, just above the water level, defying the madly victorious planes. The water beneath him was being splashed up by machine-gun bullets, but Charlie kept firing and yelling, "I'll scupper you. I'll scupper you.'

Eventually the planes eased off, and soon were just dots on the horizon. An American destroyer picked up the survivors, amongst whom was Charlie. Some of the survivors swore that one of the planes had flown off smoking as result of Charlie's effort.

They all ragged Charlie about his threatening to "scupper" the planes, but Charlie solemnly explained that, according to Captain Davies "to scupper" meant "to kill", because, if you were knocked into the scuppers of a sailing ship you would certainly be killed by the seas.

When N------'s survivors were back in depot after their leave they were assembled one morning by the Number One of the depot. He said that Navy Board had signalled that some decorations were to be allotted to the ship's company for their gallant work. The first of the lower deck awards was a Distinguished Service Medal to "Ordinary Seaman Charles Wells, for outstanding devotion to duty in the face of heavy air attacks by the enemy".

Afterwards everybody rallied around Charlie to congratulate him. Charlie calmly said, "They've swayed the main about it."

He explained that Captain Davies said that to "sway the main" was "to exaggerate".

An Admiral came to the depot to present the decorations. All hands were assembled, and Charlie was paraded before the Admiral by the C.O. of the depot.

The Admiral read out the citation of Charlie's deed. "Exposing himself to great personal danger, Ordinary Seaman Wells manned hi~, machine gun while the ship was still sinking," said the Admiral. "He fired his gun until the ship sank, despite heavy machine-gun fire by the enemy planes.

"Ordinary Seaman Wells," the Admiral continued, "I commend you for your bravery, and congratulate you on your decoration. Real history book style, that, Wells. A very gallant act. No doubt you saved a lot of your shipmates' lives. I understand, too, Wells, that you scuppered at least one plane."

Afterwards, Charlie told his messmates that he thought the Admiral was a real sailor, and that he was sure Captain Davies, R.N.R. (ret.). would think so too.

A/LIEUTENANT F. B. W.

A SPOT OF P. T.

MUCH has been told in song and story of the sailor's deeds on sea and shore. He has been photographed in his mess, in his action kit at his gun and strolling down George Street in the sunlight. Capable pens have recorded his everyday life in minute detail but little has been told of his very serious efforts at relaxation In the "dogs", those hours between four and eight in the evening normally the sailor's own.

Not by the badges on his arm but by his actions in the "dogs" will you know the man. There is that mad band of fanatics who play deck hockey. Twelve good men and true at 15. At 1700, twelve battered and breathless sailors reveling in their exhaustion. Of course each one of these men could have been doing his dhobying, but you've got to relax in the "dogs" and "get fit".

A ship's company divides itself into three groups. Those who get up on deck and do their physical training, those who would like but are a bit shy, and the remainder, a majority, who are frankly derisive and have their fun watching their comrades' efforts.

Little schools form up here and there. In the port waist a small band of boxing enthusiasts busy themselves with skipping ropes. Their shadow sparring provokes much mirth (carefully concealed) among the onlookers. Behind the pom-pom platform you may see two youths outdoing each other with much stretching and straining of muscle-building apparatus. Tossing the medicine ball is the favourite. It is a convenient form of exercise can be good fun providing you don't get up with a party of amateur weightlifters between the funnels.

Each little party has its own patch of deck. Shades of Porthos and D'Artagnan preside over the torpedo space where the physical training instructor conducts a fencing class. These are serious gentlemen in a world of their own. One gives them a very wide berth. Their buttoned rapiers can be no less deadly than the sleek torpedoes behind them.

Once he has overcome the embarrassment occasioned by the unabashed interest of the "loafers", the individualist finds expression for his urge "to do a spot of P.T." in the Indian clubs or a skipping rope. He can belt the stuffing out of the punching bag or break his heart doing "press-ups". If he doesn't mind being a one-man show for the wits he can fling his arms and feet about, strain his muscles, puff and pant and blow to his heart's content at everything from parallel bars to just plain exercises.

On every ship there is a small band of enthusiasts who never miss their physical training in the evening. There is many a man with greying hair who can put the youngsters to shame. With the others the fashion comes and goes. For a month or so deck hockey competitions will hold sway. Interest eventually lags and wrestling or vaulting will draw the crowd. A week later the bosun's party are being driven mad with requests for skipping ropes and a wise bosun's mate locks his precious log line away. A few days later the P.T.I. finds it hard to get together a team for deck sports. When the current buzz "We're going in to --" reaches him, he too realizes that you just can't expect a man to go ashore with immaculately pressed pants and snow-white front plus a black eye or a twisted ankle.

Usually we don't go into -- but the buzz persists and so except for the faithful few P.T. is out for a while until another spasm of energy enlivens the doughty third and amuses the remainder.

PETTY OFFICER TELEGRAPHIST D. L. B.,

SUSPENSE!

AFTER seven weeks of trudging along slippery tracks and through the hot, dry sand of long beaches, this water transport was all that could be desired. Certainly she was only a 40-foot schooner and the forty-six personnel travelling in her had sitting room only; but there was no longer the necessity to force one leg in front of the other, to brace thin shoulders against the weight of packs and cutting straps; and above all, food in the shape of thick, satisfying, hard biscuits, liberally smeared with vegetable extract, was being handed out.

The day was dull and occasional squalls had been sweeping over the face of the water. It was judged safe to leave the shoreline and cut directly across the wide bay separating the ship from her destination. She had reached the middle of the bay and was some six miles off shore when the weather, with the amazing perversity it shows in these regions, suddenly lifted and an occasional shaft of sunlight filtered through the clouds. However, the enemy had not so far penetrated into this area-his main preoccupations were further to the south -and his air patrols had been most infrequent and in any case two Europeans, each with a brace of natives, were posted as lookouts; so why be unduly concerned!

Faces and bodies assumed poses of relaxation for the first time in weeks. Jaws moved slowly on mouthfuls of biscuit. Some, with hunger appeased, fell asleep as they sat. One hour more and the day's journey was over.

Then-an excited jabbering from the two natives down aft, accompanied by much gesticulation and pointing. Above the cape twelve miles astern to the cast, two black specks were visible against the background of cloud.

A ripple ran along the crowded deck, and there came the soft clicks of rifle bolts gently opened and shut. The specks could only be enemy aircraft, and low-flying at that. Faces and bodies tautened as if at a word of command. Eyes focused on and commenced to follow the line of the aircraft. There was no doubt that the schooner would be sighted and then the situation was entirely in the lap of the gods. Twenty of the forty-six had rifles as against the fire power the two aircraft could bring to bear on the wooden hull and packed deck of the slow moving schooner. The shore was six miles off, and in any case sharks abounded.

Not a word was spoken-the attention of all was on the aircraft. Interminable minutes passed as they progressed along the shore of the bay, clearly visible against the background of towering mountains on the eastern side of the bay.

A bright mile-square patch of sunlight appeared on the water a mile and a half northwest of the ship, and on the seaward side. It was noticed by someone amidships who had caught the gleam out of the comer of his eye. As the clouds moved so the patch of light moved inexorably towards the ship. If it reached her or passed immediately behind her she would stand out against the leaden coloured sea in every detail of her outline. The certainty of her being seen was likely to be made all the more certain. A few words passed between several personnel, and the significance of that sunlit area was brought home to all.

Attention became divided between the aircraft and the sunlight. The progress of either seemed at times to be negligible, yet were either ignored for the space of a moment, when next looked at it seemed to have advanced by leaps and bounds. The aircraft were nearing the end of the range and nearly abeam when suddenly the patch of light, by now a quarter of a mile distant, disappeared like the flame of a snuffed candle. An intervening layer of cloud had saved the ship from being limned in light.

The aircraft, by this time, were abeam. They were clear of the range and their silhouettes were plain against the grayish clouds. All eyes were on the leading aircraft when it turned sharply, to be immediately followed by the other. A voice cried, "Here they come! "

A tense minute passed. Then came a yell, "The ------s are going south! Look, they're getting smaller!" Excited agreement followed.

Then, and only then, was it noticed that the rear aircraft was leaving a trail of black smoke in its wake which had been invisible against the dark blue of the hills. Its port engine was on fire and owing to this fact, which had evidently kept the crews of both aircraft preoccupied, the ship had escaped observation.

The tension gradually slackened and soon the forty-six were talking and laughing among themselves. An acknowledged pessimist was heard to observe gloomily that "It was a good thing we were not closer to the shore." He may have had reason on his side, but the situation warranted the explosive manner in which he was prevented from enlarging on his theme. Who wanted to be reasonable after those five minutes just gone by.

An hour later., the forty-six were landing at the plantation that represented another mile post in their journey.

PAYMASTER LIEUTENANT J. C. H. G.

WAR SIGNAL STATION

As an antidote to strained and shattered nerves brought about by arduous and strenuous duties afloat, let me take you on a trip to one of the Navy's distant outposts, where a lengthy sojourn may have a desired effect.

To reach this particular outpost we embark on an aged minesweeper, and slowly wend our way to the open sea. The sky above us is leadened and we run into a long heavy swell. The old ship struggles on to the accompaniment of groaning engines and creaking timber.

For many hours we wallow about the ocean until, on the distant horizon, a tiny speck of land is sighted. Closer inspection reveals a small wind-swept rocky island. and we approach the jetty and drop anchor a few hundred yards away. Within a few minutes of anchoring, a boat is lowered and into this is packed malls, fresh provisions and sundry stores. On the summit of this assorted cargo we find our selves deposited and the boat is duly despatched towards the shore.

The long swell still persists, and the going becomes laborious for the oarsmen. When the jetty is finally reached much difficulty arises in keeping the boat alongside, but in true naval fashion these difficulties are overcome.

Up on the jetty a few men are eagerly awaiting to hoist the very welcome supplies and they willingly man the handles of the crane. It has been a fortnight since they last made human contact with civilization and questions as to recent events on the mainland are fired "it us from various quarters as we cautiously clamber up the ladder, and render whatever we are able to offer in the unloading of supplies.

With the completion of the disembarking of the precious cargo, we can now let our eyes wander around the island. Our first impressions are by no means enthralling. All round us we perceive barren land studded ere and there with salt bush. A couple of yards away we espy two or three tin huts and beyond them, on the highest point tile island, a tower.

As we ascend towards the huts we encounter some dozens of goats, which, we are informed. are nothing but pests and on many occasions have to be driven away from the living quarters, which they tentatively invade. The only other animal life on the island is a horse, which is used to draw a jinker on such occasions as carting supplies from the jetty and wood to the tower. At such times much difficulty is met in catching the horse, who is somewhat reluctant to forgo her freedom and consent to earn her fodder.

Now we enter one of the tin huts which, for our sins or otherwise, is destined to be our home until such time as the powers that be consider that we are due for relief. Here we are introduced to the remaining personnel of the station who were engaged in other duties at the time of the arrival of our erstwhile floating home. We now survey the contents of the hut.

Arrayed on either side are stretcher beds upon which we deposit our bedding. At the far end of the hut are two tables and a dresser containing crockery and other table appointments. A few home-made clothes lockers are situated in between the beds and a radio is painfully churning out a popular tune.

Outside a strong wind has developed, and in a short time increased in violence to a storm. Blinding rain beats against the frail walls of the hut and these literally bend inwards from the force of the wind. In the very near distance we can hear the crash of waves against the rocks of the island and the reports bring back to our memories the booming of heavy guns. The whole island shakes from the impact of the thunderous seas.

Throughout the day the tempest rages and when darkness descends upon us we prepare ourselves for our first night watch at our new station. Donning oilskins, we bid farewell to 0 very smoky fireplace, and fight our way through the driving rain towards the tower, stumbling over rocks in the process.

.On reaching our destination, we are greeted with a cheery fire, but unfortunately this is provided only for the cooking of hot refreshments during the night watches, our watch must be kept in the upper regions of the tower, and we are immediately disillusioned.

The elements outside are still enraged and we feel that at any moment the whole island must be swept away in their stride.

Morning brings an abatement in the weather and we decide to go on a tour of inspection of the island. This is accomplished in approximately an hour and, apart from a penguin or two, nothing but barren soil and rock is encountered. We are quite unimpressed.

"What of recreation?" we ask our new friends. But apparently there are no facilities whatsoever. Something must be done about the matter and, donning our thinking caps and making a survey of the land, we decide that it is possible to create a miniature golf course, and immediately set about the preparation of the soil.

Difficulty now arises as to golf clubs. We have a few balls in our bag, but what of putters? One of our colleagues comes to the rescue. He, being a wielder of the hammer and chisel, duly performs an operation on wood and iron, and a satisfactory result is attained.

It is now possible to indulge in a little recreation during our leisure when weather permits and, after our noble horse has carried out her rolling exercise on the results of our sweated labour, much competition is waged thereon.

With the setting of the sun we retire to the primitive comforts of our hut home, and endeavour to while away the remaining hours before our weary limbs cry out for rest, indulging in such pastimes as may suit our individual temperaments.

Would we prefer to be at sea again?

SIGNALMAN L. E. C.