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قراءة كتاب From Snotty to Sub
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class="smcap">And Afterwards ... What Then?
CHAPTER I
OF A PICNIC AND A TRAGEDY
On August 26, 1915, I went up to the Admiralty for medical survey, was passed fit for active service, and on September 1 I received my appointment to H.M.S. C——, a super-Dreadnought in the Grand Fleet. Although I knew her to be a very fine ship, I was nevertheless disappointed, as I had been hoping to again see service in a T.B.D.—the few weeks I had spent in one of those craft in the Dardanelles after my last ship was sunk having convinced me that the life was far freer and more exciting than that in a big ship.
However, the Powers had decreed otherwise, and so on September 2 I left home and the same night went straight through from King's Cross to Inverness. Arrived in that town I duly reported myself to the Senior Naval Officer at the Admiralty Office, and was told to return at 9 A.M. the next morning. I thereupon took the first train I could catch to Dingwall, and went up to call upon some friends at Tulloch. I had the good luck to find them at home, and they very kindly invited me to stay the night and so saved me from a dull evening alone at an hotel. I spent a very cheery time with Mr. and Mrs. D——, and the next morning got up at 7 A.M., had an early breakfast, and motored down to the station and caught the 7.35 train back to Inverness. On my reporting at 9 o'clock to the S.N.O. he gave me a railway pass to ——, and told me to proceed thither by the 11.15. The name of my destination it would not, at this time, be permissible for me to mention. Enough that in company with some other N.O.'s with whom I had travelled I eventually reached it, and the mail steamer took us alongside H.M.S. ——, the Fleet mail ship, where we waited until one by one my fellow-travellers were taken off by various odd craft—varying from drifters to picket-boats—which conveyed them to their respective ships. I was the last left aboard the —— and lunched there—and a very nasty lunch it was too! At about 2.39 a drifter came alongside to fetch the mails for the First Battle Squadron, and having transferred myself and gear to her she took me to H.M.S. ——, alongside which ship she remained for a good half-hour before a picket-boat from my new ship turned up, called for her mail, and conveyed me to my final destination.
On my arrival I found coaling just finished and washing down still in progress. On my way forward to report to the officer of the watch I met some Snotties just going ashore, and among their number I was glad to recognize several of my old term mates at Osborne and Dartmouth, with whom I exchanged greetings. After I had duly reported myself, the Snotty of the watch showed me the way down to the gunroom, where he left me to make the acquaintance of some half-dozen of my new messmates, who, not being on duty, were variously occupied in "caulking" (a naval slang term for dozing), reading, writing letters, etc.
The —— boasts a fairly large and roomy gunroom. Down one side of it is the long narrow mess-table covered with a red and black cloth, and on the left centre a stove with an open fireplace, before which is placed a settee sacred to the use of the senior members of the mess, and woe betide the presumptuous junior who ventures to make use of it without express permission. True, it is a battered piece of furniture, having suffered severely in many a guest-night "rag," and its springs recall the story of the British matron who, after seating herself majestically in a Paris fiacre, jumped up with the agonized cry: "Cochon! Cochon! Arrêté! Arrêté! Sortez-moi! Vos printemps sont cassé!" Nevertheless it is symbolical of the privileges of seniority, and as such to be regarded and treated with respect. Almost equally sacrosanct are the two deep arm-chairs flanking the fireplace; the remainder of the furniture consists of a motley collection of other chairs, a sideboard in which the Mids keep their private stores of jam, potted meat, etc., some hanging bookcases, and a funny little old piano. The whole is lighted by three large scuttles or port-holes.
Presently, his watch over, the Senior Midshipman came down again and I went with him to see the Commander—commonly known as "The Bloke." After asking me a few questions about my previous experiences, he took me to see the Captain, who received me very kindly and also inquired about my active service adventures. These interviews over, I returned to the gunroom, where I was told the name of my servant, and how to get hold of him when wanted. I was given the usual twenty-four hours in which to "sling my hammock," or, in other words, settle down to the customary routine, and I was not expected to enter on my new duties until the following day. So I sent for the bandsman who had been told off to valet me and arranged with him where my gear, etc., should be stowed. Tea in the gunroom followed, after which the Senior Snotty showed me round the ship.
That night I slept with five others in the Chief of Staff's cabin, which, not being in use at the moment, had been allotted to us as a school place and sleeping apartment.
The next morning dawned calm and misty. The others went up at 6.45 to turret drill in accordance with usual routine, but as I was still "slinging my hammock" I was not required to turn out until 7, when I repaired to the bathroom, had a bath, dressed, and subsequently joined my messmates at breakfast. I may here admit that I felt a bit "out of it" at first, as most of the mess had been working together for the best part of a year, and the position of a newly joined Snotty is not unlike that of a new boy at school. However, I soon settled