NAVAL “MARY ANNS”

Evening Star, Issue 19779, 1 February 1928, Page 5

NAVAL “MARY ANNS”

HARD WORK AND CONDITIONS THE YARMOUTH DRIITERS. During the war a touching friendship sprang up bet,ween the battleship and the Yarmouth drifter (writes H. V. Norton in an English exchange). Such ill-assorted friendships sometimes exist between Great Danes and fox terriers of doubtful parent-

The Yarmouth fishing smacks were invariably seen in those days nestling beneath the grey flanks of 25,000-lou battleships, engaged in light badinage or in transactions comicclcit with potatoes, or something of the kind. It is a true saying that you never know your friends until adversity reveals them to you; ami the fleet found its friends, suddenly and unexpectedly, in these wise little taxi cabs of the sea, always ready lo* wheel on a roaring, hissing swell, and to do something useful for the big grey ladies.

It scorns to mo a romance that the Leras of Admiralty, who are not as a rule toucued by sentiment or given greatly to generosity, should have decreed that the bat lieships and their friends in adversity shall not be sonarated in these times of temporary peace. So you will find that each battleship now has attached to her lor discipline, rations, and every kind if duty a Yarmouth driller, whose official cap.u'ty is that of a maid of all work. The driflcrs are the Mary Anus of the Navy.

Now that the drifter has entered the Navy she has been smartened according to regulations. Her sloping, villainous, pirati-cal-looking fo'o'slo no longer shines silver with fish scales, and she no longer lurches into harbor like a Christinas tree hung with mines and other flotsam of the deep. Her brass (though this will bo contradicted in high quarters) shines (what there is ot it), her woodwork is scrubbed white (or as white as possible), and the hold, once sacred to herring and now sacred to a young lieutenant or sub, is known with absolute solemnity as the ward room. When you see somolhing tossing violently on the bosom of the waters you can be sure that you have seen the drifter. You can see her most days reeling and bucketing through a head sea, with a pale green lieutenant on her bridge, a grimy stoker petty officer coming up for air, and if you could sea into the alleged wardroom you would observe an apple-green snolty rolling Irorn side to side in the lop bunk, wondering why he ever went lo sea, and how ever Britannia can be said to rule the waves.

The duty which endears the drifter to the Navy is that of postman. She brings the mails. It is perfectly amazing how she brings the mails; but, as a. matter of fact, her'life would not be worth living if she failed to bring them, for the mail is the most sacred thing in the Navy. When she comes alongside with the mails a fringe of varied heads appears high up on the battleship, and a. number of people look down to see a marine standing m Ihe reeling drifter besides two precious sacks. At this moment the drifter is, indeed, sacred. She is a link with wives and sweethearts. These bags contain the Idlers which in half an hour will spread a dead silence in the wardroom and gunroom, in every part of the shin. In (he drifter at that moment is news of homes and children, photographs —everything that, in fact, hurts so beautifully in the Navy, The wives of the Navy have, of course, never seen the drifter edge up with the mails. They have never seen the face of th* man who stretches out his hand for a letter which is not there. He makes a bad joke, whistles, and disappears for a bit until the other fellows have read (heir letters, and then lie wanders in and orders a pink gin. (Perhaps—to-morrow ?). The drifter can hurt like the devil. When the fleet makes a move the drillers attached to each ship form a little fleet of their own, and “proceed” coastwise in a manner known to them, avoiding rough weather if possible (which is not often), and following the battleships ns rapidly as they can. . ~ f , ■Sometimes, in recompense lor (Ji>comioiU endured, the crews of drifters draw what is termed “hard-lying money” (those who receive this are naturally known as “barn liars,” but what degree of misery qualifies a drifter's crew to this doubtful benefit is not, it seems, laid down in naval piocedurc). “ Please take over from mo—l in going to be sick!” which is a request sometimes hoard on the bridge, does not, as far a* f can see, establish hardship. You must, it appears, have an uncomfortable bed. On such occasions, as (he drifetrs set out on their adventures, the fleet of Mary Anus is commanded by the senior lieutenant, who, as soon as higher authority has steamed below the sky line, becomes known officially by the sclf-stvlod title of “A.C.D.,” or admiral commanding drifters. The “admiral” is generally a young man. who owns his first razor, and baa not broken himself of the midshipmans love of good cigarettes. It is sometimes his real iii-'t command. lie amuses liimbcU by sending out licet orders to all the oilier smoothfaced .young men on the bridges of his disreputable squadron; “Admiral wishes meeting coinmamang officers,” ho runs upon Ihe masthead. If the seas would make it impossible ior a seal to keep an appointment wilh an iceberg his trusly commanding officer may indulge in back chat, pointing out that, failing wings, (ho meeting is impossible, whereupon the “admiral” may hoist Iho signal; ~ , , • , “All right. Only wanted know whos got the beer.” , , , ... . . In the morning, when Ibe drillin' fleet sots out on ils journey, the “admiral, instead of ordering “single line ahead,” has been known to greet his squadron with: “Good morning, my children! hollow father I’’ This has exactly the same result. If by chance a drifter, owing to the hazards and perils of the sea, or to the misjudgment of the young man on the bridge, grazes the stern of the one ahead, the admrial ” becomes immediately curious. . , . ~ , . . “ Did you or did yon not kiss that gulf he signals. “I did,” conics the answer.^ “Are your intentions serious? ft.-Jcs tn<* “ admiral.” “They are not,” is iho reply. “Then kindly observe the proprieties, orders the “admiral.” The least ' pleasant task which falls to P drifter is to tow Iho target for gun practice. She goes off to the horizon towing at a respectful interval a large black canvas screen mounted on floats. Her friend the battleship on the other horizon then prepares to send over heavy stuff. ]fc must be unpleasant—but not bad enough for “hard-lying” money. When the drifter hauls down her (lag the big 13.5 guns in the battleship try to hit the target. Sometimes the drifter's flag is shot up wilh amazing alacrity, and the following dialogue takes place over the ocean; Battleship: Why did you clip your flag? Drifter (pathetically): Because you nearly hit me. If you have ever scon anything nearly hit, by a 13.5 shell you will realise that a drifter's life is not all jam!