Page 9.

When I was twelve, Mam had a very serious breakdown. Dad came in off nights and found her ironing, with the dinner on. Shortly afterwards she was taken to the dreaded Deva Mental Hospital in Chester. It emerged that she had suffered the breakdown because she hadn't grieved properly for real Dad. There had been no time to grieve. There was a war on, there was me, only eleven months old. Thousands of people every month were suffering the same fate. No-one had time to grieve. But it caught up with Mam when I was twelve and she cracked. I didn't know how ill she was, I was only a kid and was kept out of the loop. Minor details only came out years later, with living Dad barely talking about it at all. He became a hero though, just like he'd been a hero during the War. One day he walked into Deva, picked Mam up, threw her over his shoulder and took her out. The hospital were getting ready to lobotomise her. When I read the novel 'One Flew Over The Cuckoos Nest', at the end the anti-hero is lobotomised and I didn't know what it was, so I had to phone my father-in-law of the day. He told me what it was. A needle through the eye that kills part of the brain. Doctors, hey, the can up with great ideas and not so great ideas. German doctors during the war, they weren't so clever, and neither were the ones who wanted to lobotomise Mam. Anyway, Dad got her out of there and she recovered (well, almost!).

So I was a bit worried that me joining up might tip her over the edge again, but I needn't have worried. She had living Dad this time round, and my little brother. She just cried for three days.

Which was a waste really, for from the very beginning I had a great time.

At the Recruiting Centre we were fed, then given ten bob each and told to go and have one last night out before becoming sailors. Ten bob! All to myself. I could barely believe it. Out we went, led by the Scousers, who knew the area. We boarded the Ferry and went to fair that was on at New Brighton. The Scousers smoked and drank bottles of beer! Nash was quiet, as he always was, and I just wandered around with eyes that must have been as big as plates. I knew this was how it was going to be. I knew life was going to be exciting, different, well-paid (I had ten-bob). I was going to love it.

We almost spent up, saving just enough to get the Ferry back to Liverpool, and we were fed a supper and put to bed. All in the one room. The only time I had ever slept in a room with anyone else was when little brother was having nightmares and wanted to sleep with me. I cleaned my teeth, washed my face and climbed into a bottom bunk (that was what the bed was called) and I rolled over, gave a great big happy sigh, and fell instantly asleep. What a wonderful start to my Naval career.

The following morning up early, washed, dressed, teeth cleaned and fed breakfast. Then off to Lime Street Station, escorted by two Petty Officers, where a huge steam train was waiting for us. Not just us, you understand, but for lots of people including us. We were put in a carriage, all of us together, cases were stored in the rack, we were told to sit then given a lecture on our behaviour. We were members of the Royal Navy now, we were told. We represented the Queen, the Head Of The Nation. Our behaviour from now on must be immaculate at all times. We must be polite, quiet, sensible, proud, we must do nothing to upset other passengers and we would be checked up on at intervals by the train guard. We all sat side by side, facing each other in the carriage while the Petty Officer who lectured us stood in the doorway and the other stood in the corridor. When the lecture was over we were asked if we understood everything that had been said, we nodded and said that we did. Eventually, we were all given our tickets and the Petty Officers bade us farewell and good luck in our chosen career.

They had barely left before the Scouse kids brought out their bottles of beer and began to drink. Nash and me stared on in disbelief. They laughed and fought as the train pulled out and began our trip to Euston, black smoke billowing all around as I stood in the corridor with my head out of a window and watched Liverpool drift away. Pretty soon we were up to full speed at the train felt as it it was flying. Clickety-clack. Clickety-clack. Now I really was beginning a new life.

Just past Rugby and there were empty beer bottles all over the place. Nash and me had declined the offer to try one, and the problem was how they were going to be disposed of. The Scouse kids came up with a great idea. Throw them out of the window. But not just throw them at any old time, throw them out when there was a train coming in the other direction. Oh, what a laugh! What a scream! What a bloody good idea! They thought.

With one looking out for trains, the chuckers ready themselves. Here was one, throw the bottle, huge celebration. A direct hit, apparently. Nash and me were frozen in fear of these kids, they seemed to be from another plant completely. Another train, another bottle. Oh, yes, got it. Another celebration. And so it went until all the bottles were gone. The Scouse kids settled down in their seats again, occasionally laughing at their own brilliance.

When we arrived at Euston, not only were the Navy waiting but the police were too.

One day I had been in the Navy and already I was in trouble.

Each of us was taken to a separate room and interviewed about the bottles that had been thrown at trains, causing some damage. I think I was probably quaking in my shoes. The only time I had ever had anything to do with the police was when I was caught scrumping and got a clip round the ear from the local plod. Now I was being interviewed about criminal damage. I convinced them it wasn't me or Nash, mainly by telling them who it was who had done it. By the time our journey continued under escort to Liverpool Street Station, our little group was down to only four people. I never saw those Scouse kids again.

At Liverpool Street there were hundreds of us. And many men in uniforms that I now recognised as Petty Officers. There was a lot of screaming and shouting going on, orders being given, lines being drawn. Order was rising out of chaos. We were filed on to a train, given seats and sat down. We were ordered to keep quiet, to sit in an orderly fashion, and to wait for further orders. All along the train boys were boarding, there was shuffling movements then silence as everyone obeyed the order. There were just too many Petty Officers to argue with. The train drew out and after what seemed to be a very short time, but couldn't have been that short, we arrived in Ipswich. Our destination.

We were ordered off the train in an orderly fashion, an orderly quiet fashion. I felt as it was hours since I had actually spoken to anyone. A Petty Officer strode along the line shouting, "Line up in single file. That's one behind the other once."

That made me laugh.

The Petty Officer stopped and wheeled round on me. "Is something funny, boy?" he screamed at me.

"No," I replied.

The Petty Officer went purple in the face. "No, Sir!!" he blasted at me. "When you speak to me you say No, Sir. Do you get that, boy?"

"Yes, sir," I said. I would have said anything to get him out of my face.

"Louder, boy."

"Yes, Sir!!" I bellowed as loud as I could.

"And did you find anything funny?"

"No, Sir!!"

He glared at me. "Good," he said, before continuing on his way, telling hundreds of boys to line up one behind the other once.

When we were all in a single line right down the platform we were filed out to where coaches were waiting and we were marched on to them. With the charas full, off we went.

Our next destination. H.M.S. Ganges.

Now I really was in the Navy.