Scousesubs

Submariners Times
May/June 2008

Merseyside Branch

President: Commander Ian Fraser, VC, DSC

Secretary's Locker

Hello Sailor,

Well here we are well into our much anticipated British summer but the bronzy weather is in short supply so far. These days everyone fashionably blames global warming; maybe it's just me but weren't our summers always so unpredictable and mostly disappointing? We had torrential rains on the night of our June meeting so I was pleasantly surprised so many turned up in the persistent downpour. You've never seen such an assortment of foul weather gear and Burberrys as those worn by all hands in the so-called 'flaming' month of June. Reckon we'll all save a fortune on salt tablets, sweat rags and lime juice again this year.

Our Annual Memorial Service was a success with a tremendous turnout. Our thanks must go to Father John Williams MBE and Canon Bob Evans for the sterling organisation and execution of the event and to the Choir of Walton-on-the-Hill for their beautiful choral contribution. Also to our honoured guests, the Lord Mayor and Lady Mayoress of Liverpool, Colonel Bryson OBE,QCB,TD,RL, President of the NW British Legion and Lieutenant Commander Paul Bowness RN, Executive Officer, HMS Eaglet, for gracing the proceedings with their presence. This years ceremony was somewhat overshadowed by the loss of our much loved and respected shipmate, Mick Jones, and our heartfelt condolences go to his wife Joan and the family at this time. Mick's funeral service was also held in St. Nicks three days later (as one of his last wishes) and our little mate was given a send off in true naval fashion by family, friends and large numbers of fellow submariners. There were no floral tributes by request but donations if so desired could be made to the Merseyside Submariners Association. As per his wish his ashes are to be scattered at sea at a date to be later arranged.

Congratulations are the order of the day for our good friend and chaplain, Canon Bob Evans MBE who had the honour conferred upon him in the Queen's Birthday Honours List this year. This was in recognition for a life time of working and caring for the international seafaring community in the Port of Liverpool. Bravo Zulu, Bob, from us all for a brilliant job well done over many years. Merseyside Submariners salute you.

If you thought that it's only the younger submariners that get up to crazy antics on a run ashore, then guess again. Most of our members suffer from the Peter Pan syndrome and still think they are 18 and can pull lamp posts out of the deck after a few wets. Read the first of our stories in this issue of past shenanigans of Merseyside submariners who, during their dotage over the years, would put any modern-day OD's shore-side performances to shame.

Shut the valve flap; down snort mast, going deep.

Yours Aye

'Pedro'

Top Picture: HMS/M Courageous entering Faslane harbour.

"Surprisingly though, being flogged was not necessarily -
an indelible black mark on a sailor's career."

'One in a Million' Mick, Has Left the Building

Those thousands of sailors of all age groups, who knew Mick Jones, will remember him best from the above photograph. This was the little leprechaun at the top of his game on stage at Blockhouse with his old mate, Shep Woolley, entertaining his brother submariners with a rendition of 'The Day I P****d in the Chief Tiffie's Hat' at one of the eighties reunions. It captures perfectly the twinkle in his Irish eyes and his always mischievous grin as he dispensed mirth and humour with his Navy songs and monologues which he himself described as: some clean, some blue, some false, some true.

Sad to say our little mate crossed the bar peacefully on the 18th June after a long hard fight with cancer. Despite his suffering, right up to the end he continued to produce his hilarious and informative 'Ping Bosun's Log' in this newsletter for the edification and amusement of sailors everywhere around the globe. His passing has left a huge void in our ranks and a deep sorrow at losing a great friend and a legendary figure within the close brotherhood of the Submarine Service.

I don't have a copy of 'Unbroken - The Story of a Submarine' by her Captain, Alistair Mars, to hand, so I am recalling this passage from memory. It went something like this:

After sinking a major unit of the Italian navy in the Strait of Messina, HMS/M Unbroken came under heavy and sustained attack from enemy escorts. After what seemed hours under depth charge attacks even the cool Lt. Mars thought this was definitely the end of the line for them all. Now desperately short of air and standing in sweating silence in the sweltering control room Lt. Mars was handed a scribbled message on the back of a Woodbine cigarette packet which had been passed around the group to much smothered laughter. It read: "AB J. Jones D/JX 254129 requests an immediate transfer to general service". That inspired and hilarious note broke the terrible tension and eventually Unbroken was later able to limp away from danger to lick her wounds and fight another day.

It was this gifted ability to make light of gloomy moments with his sense of humour that endeared Mick to all that knew him. When he walked into a meeting or a reunion he was like the proverbial breath of fresh air to the proceedings; his happiness was contagious and a lesson to us all - to always look on the bright side of life. As long as his written material lasts we shall endeavour to keep his never-say-die spirit alive in these pages as a tribute to a dear and valued friend who brought us so much laughter and merriment on a regular basis. Fair winds and following seas, Mick, on your last patrol to the Promised Land - Resurgam.

Diesel Dinosaur's Corner


The Ping Bosun's Log by Mick Jones

Dear Friends and Members,

As I sit here each month to write these blockbuster newsletter logs I often sit for hours gazing at the screen of my word processor waiting for the Muse to inspire me and when inspiration finally comes I tap away with my right forefinger until it resembles a Cumberland sausage. The finished article used to be proof read by the lovely Shirley Collins who would correct my grammar, spelling and punctuation. You know it is amazing how many famous authors cannot spell, sure Shakespeare himself couldn't spell microwave to save his life.

Two Italian chappies Michael and Angelo got the job of painting the Cistern in a Chapel in the Vatican, and they painted it lying on their backs. I fancy they must have been at the old communion wine. Frankly, I would have thought it a lot easier for them to have used a roller but there you go.

Still on the subject of painting related matters this must have been one of the least successful naval repairs ever. In September 1978 a paint scraper worth around 30 pence was accidentally dropped into a torpedo launcher of the US nuclear submarine Swordfish and jammed the loading piston in its cylinder. For a week divers tried to free the piston while Swordfish was waterborne but all attempts failed. She had to be dry-docked and subsequent repairs cost 171,000 dollars (£84,000). Perhaps in future our ASW skimmers should take to dropping paint scrapers instead of depth charges - what do you reckon?

Thought I would talk a little about CPO Coxswain (SM) Gordon Selby DSM, MD, BEM a submarine legend of WWII. Gordon served through six years of the war in boats and led a charmed existence whilst engaged in many actions on various boats for which he earned gallantry awards. He was second Coxswain on the soon to become top scoring boat Upholder under the command of another submarine service legend Lt. M D Wanklyn, later to be promoted to Lt. Commander and subsequently awarded the Victoria Cross and Gordon was awarded the DSM. Upholder was lost in April 1942 on her final patrol en-route to England for refit. Providentially, Gordon was drafted from Upholder just before she sailed, to remain in the Mediterranean as Coxswain of another boat.

He was first Mentioned in Despatches, "For selfless devotion in twice returning to a sinking vessel to provide others with life-saving apparatus". The 'sinking vessel' was in fact Olympus, on which he was a passenger and which had struck a mine, in May 1942, about six miles south of Malta. She was sinking by the bow; survivors of the explosion were gathered on the casing, and Gordon went below, via the conning tower, to fetch as much escape apparatus as he could carry, on two occasions, before she went down. He and eight others managed to swim ashore. They were the only survivors. On September 1944 he was again Mentioned in Despatches, "For undaunted courage, skill and devotion to duty in successful patrols in one of HM Submarines in Far Eastern waters". The submarine was Storm commanded by Lt. Commander Edward Young RNVR whose excellent book 'One of Our Submarines' was required reading for all young aspiring peacetime submariners.
On June 5th 1945 he was awarded a bar to his DSM, "For marked courage, devotion to duty and coolness in action in successful patrols whilst serving in one of HM Submarines". Again, this submarine was Storm, in which, mercifully, he safely finished his six years war service at sea. He received one further award and that was the BEM in 1956 in recognition of his outstanding contribution to the training of young submarine officers.

In a remarkable career, few episodes would be more remarkable than the manner in which his life was spared on four providential occasions. The first was his draft from Upholder before her loss with all hands in 1942. The second was his escape from Olympus in 1942. The third was his drafting from Truculent to Alliance about three months before the former boat sank with all hands by collision at night in the Thames. The fourth being his inexplicable collapse and transfer to RNH Haslar, half an hour before he would have sailed in Affray on her final, fatal, voyage. A truly remarkable man and submariner who would surely have forgiven his old mate, Gus Britton MBE, his once jocular remark in saying that he wouldn't have sailed on the Gosport ferry with Gordon at any price. Of course he was only winding him up - but that's what oppo's are for aren't they?

To all of you who are well, keep on being that way, and to those of you who are not so well we wish you all the best. Well sailor's, that's your lot for this issue, take care of yourselves and God bless.

Mick.

As you all know from the flyer in your last newsletter we had to hurriedly change dates to honour Mick and we had agreed to do this after the St. Nicks Memorial Service at the Exchange Bar. We even had the cake (pictured above) made to celebrate our little leprechaun on the afternoon. It read: Mick Jones - The Best Oppo On or Under the Seven Seas - from Merseyside Submariners Association. It showed the silhouette of a U-Class boat going through a shamrock with a leprechaun's green top hat hung on its top leaf. A crest of Unbroken was made by the confectioner as were the White Ensign and the Jolly Roger flags positioned at all four corners. Even with these last minute changes we were to be overtaken by the sad event of Mick's passing. The cake was duly displayed at Father John's suggestion in the nave of St. Nicks on Memorial Service Day and was later transferred into Joan's keeping for the family and friends get together following our old mate's funeral on Tuesday 24th June.

Memories of Bob , Mary, Admirals and Kids

A few weeks ago I received a very nice letter from Jan Howarth with a donation in memory of her Dad, Bob Pounder OBE and her Mum, Mary (both pictured above). Bob as you know was Chairman of the then Submarine Old Comrades Association also founder member, Chairman and later President of the Merseyside branch for many years where he was most ably supported in all the hard work it involved by the unflappable and lovely Mary. She recalled how fortunate she was that this connection with the Submarine Service allowed her to meet such interesting people. Jan and her husband Philip and their three children lived with Bob and Mary at their large home in West Kirby where they were able to accommodate VIP's when they visited Liverpool for the many great naval occasions organised by the branch.

She related two incidents on two separate occasions that I thought needed to be included in this edition for their human and humorous value. Rear Admiral Sir Anthony Miers, VC, KBE, DSO & Bar and Lady Pat Miers stayed with them on one such occasion and he chatted to Rachel, their 11 year old daughter asking her how old she was etc. The weekend over and their guests had returned to their busy London lives, but not too busy, however, for him to have remembered her birthday and sent her a card and a box of chocolates on the special day. Rachel was thrilled and the family very touched by this gesture from the great man himself.

The second recollection was in 1994 when Rear Admiral Tony Whetstone CE and Mrs Betty Whetstone also stayed with them as did Bob's great grandson Jamie, aged 4. On Saturday morning Jamie trotted along to Granddad's room for the usual cuddle and chat only to find two strange people in residence. Tony and Betty, well used to grandchildren, invited him in to join them. Having settled himself down and inspected the room he eyed Tony's uniform hung up and ready for use later in the day. He turned to Tony and asked very seriously, "Are you a Milkman, then?" Jan wasn't sure what Tony's reply might have been but she was certain it was done with muffled chuckles. Thank you Jan for those two anecdotes about Admirals and kids - they are simply priceless memories.

Fiery Fred the Fullerton Fusilier

Years ago, around circa 1980, the Merseyside submariners took off in great excitement on their annual pilgrimage to the reunion at HMS Dolphin in Gosport. The coach was full to the brim and everyone imbibed copious quantities of beer and the odd drop of Nelson's blood on the trip down south. Fred Fullerton was as usual dressed to the nines with blazer and slacks and sporting a bowler hat with a distinctive HM Submarines cap tally adorning it. He was accompanied by his wife Noreen. Stratford-upon-Avon was to be our lunch stop for ninety minutes and Ray Hedgecock, our Secretary, made it quite clear that on previous years he had been held up there waiting for late comers to get back to the coach in order that they could continue the journey. Fred was identified as being one of the biggest offenders and this year Ray was having none of it and said if everyone was not back on board by 1330 hours the coach would be leaving sharpish. He had people to book into hotels in Gosport and Portsmouth and time would be of an essence upon arrival.

Everyone duly got off the bus and retired to the nearby Pen and Parchment pub for lunch. As Fred got off the bus someone stuck a notice on the back of his blazer that read: "I am a lost submariner - if found please return to Pen & Parchment car park." Fred staggered off up the road singing his head off. At 1330 hours with everyone watered and fed and back on the bus on time there was no Fred to be seen. An agitated Ray contacted the local police telling them they couldn't miss fiery Fred and described him in detail to the two police constables who attended in a panda car. They took a quick spin around the precinct and reported they couldn't find hair or hide of Fred but would keep looking for him. More time was wasted whilst all this went on and finally Ray gave the driver instructions to get underway. This prompted a crying match from Noreen who was obviously worried about Fred and she continued to be inconsolable all the way to Portsmouth despite everyone's commiserations.

Later that night at around 2200 hours we were all enjoying a sing song and knees up in the Eldon Arms pub which we had virtually taken over for the evening. Our guests were a large party of young US Marines from the assault ship USS Guam under the watchful eye of their minder, a Surgeon Commander, and everyone was having a fine old time. The weather outside was wild with a high wind and it was raining cats and dogs. Noreen was having the occasional little tearful sniffle into her glass of sherry, but by and large Fred had been forgotten by all hands for the moment. All of a sudden the bar door burst open and there stood fiery Fred drunk as a lord and soaked to the skin. He staggered, weaving his way across the saloon bar ably assisted by a young Indian guy in the general direction of an astonished Noreen. Whilst Noreen remonstrated with him as to what he thought he was playing at, Fred kept demanding a £20 note from her. At this Noreen became quite irate and animated wanting to know why he needed the money. Fred said he was a few quid light for the fast black fare down from Stratford. The young Asian lad was the taxi driver and after we got him a cup of coffee and some scran he told us the story. The curator of William Shakespeare's house had discovered Fred fast asleep in the famous bard's four-poster bed and had called the police. They managed to wake Fred up and finally get some sense out of him. He had been horrified to find he had been left behind and had promptly ordered a taxi to drive him the 135 miles down to Portsmouth.

Fred's wet weekend continued the next day as he took the liberty boat back from Fort Blockhouse to the Gun Wharf in Portsmouth. The Leading Wren Coxswain on the liberty boat looked just like Raquel Welsh, so much impressed Fred spent the trip across the harbour chatting to her. Disembarking at Gun Wharf, Fred, still trying to impress the lovely Leading Wren, leapt with alacrity from the liberty boat and completely missed the step falling into the harbour. He then suffered the indignity of being fished out of the oggin by the beautiful Wren Amazon with a boathook. Once again soaking wet Fred returned to his lodgings with seaweed and kelp hanging around his neck. As he stood sopping wet in a rapidly growing puddle in the reception area, the landlady looked up from her paperwork and casually remarked, "Oh! I didn't realise it was raining outside my love." Fiery Fred's colourful retort to her is considered totally unfit for publication in this newsletter. BTW it was Fred's 57th birthday that weekend.

The Ditty Box

At our last meeting it was proposed and agreed that as a trial period for the remainder of this year we would alternate our monthly get togethers between meetings and social evenings. Naturally any urgent branch business would be discussed or relayed as and when required prior to any social evening commencing. Our wonderful ladies have fully supported this decision and agreed to help out with the supply of groceries on social nights. Jim McGuiness, our resident DJ and arranger has kindly offered to supply the music for these free and easy nights. So the 31st July, 25th September, and the 27th November will be social nights and the remainder will be meetings. The Christmas Banyan Bash date will be advised later in the year. So get there, swing the lamp, and boogie on down okay?

Found the above on a military blog site on the internet.
Nice one - if we could just get one with a boat on it I thought it would make a great windscreen sticker.

Moored in the Firth of Clyde, out of sight of the little port town of Largs on the west coast of Scotland is a sinister and strange looking ship. Its sheer grey sides are topped with numerous whirling radars and bristling antennae. Rising high above the deck is an 80 ton steel obelisk on top of which is a spinning ball with spikes sticking out. The ball looks a little like Sputnik, the first artificial satellite launched by the Soviet Union in the 1950s. Only this ball is a thousand times more sophisticated than that bleeping radio transmitter. It is the most advanced radar in the world, which can monitor everything in the air for a 200 mile radius, and is the centre piece of this £800m T45 destroyer which will be delivered to the Royal Navy in December. BAe Systems, which built HMS Daring in the nearby Scotstoun shipyard in Glasgow, was showing off its new piece of kit this week. Daring, it says, is the most advanced warship in the world and five years ahead of anything anywhere else. Not a lot of people know that!

"There's the touch of the Pirate
about any man who wears the Dolphins badge"
- Commander Jeff Tall