Scousesubs

Submariners Times
May/June 2008




Merseyside Branch


President: Commander Ian Fraser, VC, DSC

Secretary's Locker

Hello Sailor,

Like the new avatar then? Okay so it's not me but a very close recruiting poster likeness of yours truly when I too was once a clean cut, tiddly suited matelot with a bow wave in my cap. Does anyone still remember the blue gansey being worn? The more discerning eagle -eyed readers amongst you will note the Australian White Ensign being flown in the background which fits in nicely with my time out there in Tabard 1964 three years before they changed their ensign to include the Southern Cross constellation. Hard to accept that it was 44 years ago and Prince Eddie had just been launched into the world which merited us getting a 'splice the mainbrace' plus a 'make and mend' from the Queen. We all got to wet the royal babies head with the toast and wave to the very sexy blonde photographer from the 'Sydney Morning Herald'; now here I am today taking a totally different kind of medication and waving ta-ra to the remaining hair on my own head. Such is life and Old Father Time is that thief we all know so well. But we'd do it all again wouldn't we?

As always I hope you are keeping fit and happy and to those of you who are feeling a bit under the weather we trust that you all start getting better soon. Things have been moving apace with the branch over recent months and the attendances at meetings are much improved and this is most encouraging. Thanks to 'Slinger' Woods our website is now back on line and up and running at this link: http://www.scousesubs.com/ so you surfers get yourselves over there and log in. If you have any contributions for the website then do please send them to your hard-working webmaster 'Slinger' at scousesubsweb@aol.com where they will be most welcomed. Our grateful thanks to all those who sent donations to the branch over the past two month period. Your kindness and generosity is very much appreciated.

It is with deep regret that I have to report the passing of Dave Palmer's wife, Pam, on the 17th May after a long illness. Our deep condolences go out to Dave and his family on their loss of a lovely lady who was such a good friend to members of this branch and she will be sadly missed by us all. You are all in our thoughts and prayers at this sad time. Resurgam.

Don't forget the Annual Remembrance Service on June 21st in St.Nicks at the Pier Head. Local dignatories attending will be The Lord Mayor and Lady Mayoress of Liverpool, Colonel Graeme Bryson OBE, QCB, TD, RL, President of the NW British Legion and Lieutenant Commander Paul Bowness RN, Executive Officer of HMS Eaglet. In this Liverpool's year as European City of Culture 2008 let us make this special event of commemorating our lost boats and shipmates even more memorable with a turnout to match this august occasion.

Well that's all for now sailor - no new traffic - going deep.

Yours Aye

'Pedro'

Front Cover: A trot of diesel boats alongside Blockhouse in the mid-sixties. You can all now amuse yourselves and have fun by playing 'Spot your Boat'. Another competition 'Spot Your Drunken Oppo' is on page 7 in the report on the Crewe run.
"Submarine life most of the time is hours and hours of boredom with intermittent terror thrown in to keep you on your toes!"

Saved From the Scrap Heap

In our last issue we showed the sad photo of HM/SM Otus and HM/SM Opportune in the breakers yard awaiting disposal. Opportune was sold to a Turkish company for scrap and she sank whilst under tow to Turkey which was a far nobler end than becoming razor blades. A German businessman purchased Otus and had her towed to the resort of Sassnitz on the island of Rügen in Germany to be used as a floating museum. Here she is in all her former glory after being lovingly renovated by people who obviously care about their latest acquisition. Below are shots of her gleaming fore-ends and engine room. Bravo Zulu to the German's for the brilliant restoration job they have accomplished. British ship preservation societies and entrepreneurs kindly take note: Vorsprung Durch Technik

Diesel Dinosaurs Corner

The Ping Bosun's Log by Mick Jones

Hello Sailors,

Here we are again with another load of blasts from the past and nonsense. I trust you are all keeping well, as I write this we seem to be over that spell of freezing weather and the sun is poking its head out. I for one am glad to see it and I will endeavour to catch a few rays.

I applied to the Royal British Legion (on the advice of my occupational therapist) for an electrically powered scooter to help me get around. I receive this vehicle tomorrow Wednesday, the 30th April. This is to let you know that if you are around the Bootle area and some idjit on a mobile invalid scooter passes you at breakneck speed it is only the little leprechaun out on his appointed rounds. Seriously, I am not that bad at Formula 1 racing and the streets of Bootle are truly safe for all.

I'm sorry I was unable to get to the Shep Woolley concert at Crewe, by all reports it was a roaring success with the 'Old Gunlayer' in fine voice and at his funniest. Pedro informs me that the Brush excelled himself as mine host and a good time was had by all. Well done Shep and the Brush.

Now why was it that Sir Anthony Miers VC was called 'Gamp' by the lower deck and 'Crap' by his friends and contemporaries in the wardroom? I've heard various explanations about Gamp, one being that he was as wet as an umbrella, this surely could not have been the case as such a brilliant commander as he could never be that wet - so any explanations out there? Perhaps Lady Pat could kindly help me out with this conundrum and oblige? My own CO was known as Pansy but the reason was plain to see, he was never less than immaculate in his dress, even after a long patrol when the rest of us looked like scranbags. Lt. Alistair Mars was always in pristine order, clean shaven and not a hair out of place. Our Jimmy was known as 'Diprod' because he was over six feet tall and thin with it. Commander Bone of Trident rejoiced in the nickname of Gnawsa (Gnawsa, as in dog gnaws a bone) - get it?

If smoking is bad for you how come it cures kippers? I read in one of the dailies that the best selling commodity in a Cardiff sex shop was a blow-up sheep. So that old yarn about 'inflate your mate week' must have been true after all then?

With the Annual Reunion now being held all over the place and in non-Naval establishments it got me thinking about our old 'Almer Mater', HMS Dolphin, or as we usually referred to it - Blockhouse. Blockhouse holds such happy memories for most of us (pre-nukes I mean). Pactolus Block the old cattle sheds which housed the seamen and Alecto Colonnade the hub of all activity, which at one time always had a Royal Marine bugler on duty there blowing out his calls from Reveille to Sunset. A small Marine band was barracked in Vulcan Block (the Grand Hotel) on the top floor and played for Divisions and other occasions. On weekends at lunchtime they would also play as a jazz band in the Rosario canteen, and who could forget the trek ashore into town via Pneumonia Bridge and Squeezegut Alley? Ah! Happy days indeed.
What useless pieces of information stick in our memories? When I was qualifying as an SD we had a schoolteacher to teach us the theory of sound and it has always stuck in my mind that sound travels at 1120 feet per second through air but at 4960 feet per second through water. The reason given for this was that "the resistance of water to compression is four and a half times greater than that of air". Now why this should stick in the grey sludge I call a brain is beyond me. That old 'schoolie' has a lot to answer for.

Bill King the skipper of Snapper and later of Trusty states in his book 'Silent Service' that compared to American submarines our boats were slums. He says and I quote:

We went on patrol in the Malacca Straits under conditions that frankly would not support human life. We had many who were sick and it was all down to lack of air conditioning. It is at times like this that a submarine is at its worst as you were living in the most dreadful stench, a mixture of human smells, excrement, cooking, battery gas, diesel fuel, washing, everything an unbelievable cocktail. Fortunately nature is merciful, if you are locked into a bad smell your olfactory nerves become fatigued and you don't smell it anymore. When you come to the surface and get fresh air past you and then get the smell of the situation down below, you realise what you have been living in. Smokers say you have to have at least three cigarettes before you can enjoy a smoke because your whole system was saturated by this nastiness. Smells were an unbelievable discomfort, not least when we went to the toilet we had to store it in buckets and at the end of the day when we were able to surface and we'd throw it over the side using these buckets. You can imagine the scene, climbing up through the conning tower in an 80 mile an hour gale (because of the engine downdraft) carrying these buckets covered only by a sack and then throwing them overboard to leeward.

Did you notice that St. Patrick's Day was wiped off the calendar this year? The reason was that Easter was so early (23rd March) and Holy Week began on 17th March (St. Patrick's Day). A Papal edict rules that all worship and prayers during this week must be exclusively to Jesus Christ and all other saints are to be disregarded. His Holiness, the Pope, decreed that St. Patrick's Day should be celebrated on Saturday March 15th, but it was kept pretty quiet and not everyone was aware of this ruling. Consequently, all over the world hundreds of thousands of Irishmen spent Monday (March 17th) stoned out of their minds praising blessed St. Patrick, dear saint of our emerald isle, taking Kathleen home again and getting maudlin about crossing the sea once again to Ireland, not knowing that St. Patrick's day had been celebrated two days before. For the dear love of God leave Paddy's Day alone will ya?

Signing off now. Finished with main motors and steering. Best of luck to you all and God bless.

Mick.

Whale of a Tale Compartment

The Rowing Machine

The nuclear deterrent boats didn't get many runs ashore anyway due to their clandestine purpose which was to remain at sea hidden from detection and ready to deliver the ultimate sanction should the need arise. This time we got a break and were to visit New York enroute to some missile exercises in the Caribbean. The crew had decided to do a sponsored non-stop row on a rowing machine all the way from Scotland to New York to raise money for a kid's hospice in Loch Lomond.

The rowing machine was in the forward torpedo room and it worked out at 32 r.p.m. we could each row for 30 minutes a day to complete it. This would keep us all fit and healthy and would greatly assist some deserving youngsters into the bargain. As we were at sea on patrol it would also help to pass the time. About this time the sound room picked up tonal threat that seemed to be a Soviet Victor 3 in the vicinity. Not too worried the crew carried on with the rowing around the clock. The Skipper showed a little interest in the contact which fitted in with an intelligence report so wasn't too unduly worried either. Then we later lost the contact in some thermal layers.

The rowing was doing really well and we all got into the routine. During the morning watch Mr Victor 3 showed up again on the sonar and the Skipper was called. We cleared stern arcs a few times and he was still there. The Sound Room were totally confused as they could not get a bearing on the Victor 3 no matter what they tried. The Skipper called the boat to Action Stations and the contact disappeared. We stood down after a few hours and got back into normal routine and sure enough the Victor 3 turned up again. Nobody had a clue what was going on as it defied all nautical logic.

All was quiet in the control room when a young sailor who was a tactical sonar rating piped up to break the silence by saying, "I know what it is." You guessed it. A Victor 3 had the same tonal signature as a standard rowing machine. The reason we lost it at first and carried on rowing was the sound of the machine was blanked out by thermal layers, and 'shore noise' or so our sound room said. So on a multi-billion pound weapon like a Polaris submarine even the simplest thing like a sponsored row can cause havoc.

Needless to say, we estimated the time lost rowing due to action stations and silent routines looking for the 'elusive' and non-existent Victor 3, and completed additional rowing later in the patrol to qualify for the sponsorship money and the kid's hospice received a cool £7,200 from our efforts which would buy an awful lot of Dolly Mixtures, Jelly Babies and Mars Bars I can tell you. They were however spared the embarrassing detail of how we struggled to raise it under the auspices of the Official Secrets Act.


Submitted by a Bomber Queen who wishes to remain anonymous- thanks for that one wings.

Cool Run in Crewe

The locals in the town of Crewe must have wondered what had happened to their normal Saturday night at their neighbourhood watering hole, the Royal Hotel, when they were suddenly inundated by an invasion of 'socially confused' submariners on April 12th. "Here we are miles away from the sea in the middle of rural Cheshire so what have we done to deserve this?" they must have been asking themselves. The answer was really quite simple. Members of Merseyside, Barrow, Manchester, Sheffield and Gosport branches had converged to see and hear Shep Woolley, the singing gunlayer, work his magic on this elite gathering of the silent service. We were not to be disappointed as the maestro regaled us with his funny dits and sang all our favourite songs to much vocal audience participation and applause. Mine hosts, Ray Bruchez and his wife, Margaret, did us proud with a great buffet and in looking after us all on the night. It was great to see some old mates who had travelled long distances to catch the show and the ambient atmosphere. Our sincere heartfelt thanks go to Shep for his big generous gesture to the branch and to the Brush and Margaret for their excellent hospitality on the night.

The Ditty Box

HMS Bulwark paid a courtesy visit to Liverpool on the weekend of 10th May. It was the ultra-modern assault ships second visit to the Capital of Culture in just three months. Commanding officer Captain Jeremy Blunt said, "Liverpool is an extremely popular port visit for the Royal Navy because of the hospitality of the people and the vibrancy of the city." The Band of Her Majesty's Royal Marines staged a concert on her vehicle deck in aid of the Royal Marines Charity on the Saturday night for 600 guests. Their repertoire included everything from traditional marches to music from the musicals and movie themes and the audience showed their flag waving appreciation of a great show with enthusiastic participation in the Prom's style grand finale. Thanks to the bootnecks band and her ship's company for a terrific night. The warship was open to the general public from 1230-1700 hrs on the following Sunday.

Submariners Cruise 2008

Rick Rothwell reports that the cruise from Hull to Zeebrugge was a runaway success with all hands having a great time both on the ship and on the day trip ashore to Bruges. A few couples had to cancel at the last moment due to unforeseen circumstances and unfortunately missed a memorable weekend of entertainment. I believe even the weather in Belgium was kind with temperatures of 75-80 degrees F which provided a wonderful excuse for cold liquid refreshments to sooth the fevered brows of the revellers in between taking in the sights of the Venice of the North. Everyone duly took the golden opportunity to load up with copious amounts of duty free goodies. Plans are already afoot to organise the same trip for spring 2009 and you will be kept informed of any confirmed arrangements. Ed: Should Shirley have any more mishaps we definitely go next year even if it means giving her a piggyback!

"Like the destroyer, the submarine has created its own type of officer and man with language and traditions apart from the rest of the service, and yet at the heart unchangingly of the Service"
Rudyard Kipling