Day In Big Battleship

Manawatu Times, Volume LIV, Issue 6900, 4 May 1929, Page 7

Day In Big Battleship

SAILORS’ ROUND OF DUTIES

How He Keeps Fit

A gleam of light from a shaded lamp just outside mj cabin scuttle enables me to read my watch. It is four a.m. Save for the throb of a duty dynamo and the cjank of a pump working in a distant flat, the huge battleship, with her population of nearly 1300, is eerily eilent, writes Hector C. Bywater on board HALS. Boyal Sovereign at Malta. On the mess decks, dimly illuminated by police lights hundreds of tired seamen are sleeping in their hammocks slung from the beams. At intervals the corporal of the watch makes his rounds, keeping a special lookout for signs of fire. On the quarter-deck a quarter-master is pacing up and down. Seatod in a deck chair just inside the screen the officer of the watch is regaling himself with a cup of hot cocoa. He, too, will soon be taking one of his periodical walks round the ship. Meanwhile, having finished his cocoa, he casts a professional eye at the weather and looks overside to see that the boats are not bumping. High on the bridge one secs the shadowy figure of a signalman, for signals arc apt to come in at any hours of the night or day,, and there must be no delay in receiving them. In the wireless cabin the operator is listeningin. Outside the captain's headquarters, a marine sentry paces softly to find fro. Another marine stands at hi? post on the half-deck. Twice each watch a party of leading seamen visit the magazines to take the temperature, which is kept at an even figure by an elaborate cooling system. As these compartments contain hundreds of tons of explosives the most meticulous precautions are taken against overheating. Other wakeful people are the night boat’s crew, whose boat is kept ready for lowering at a moment’s notice.

ty officers, and the duly sub-division of the watch are called, and 15 minutes later they turn out all hands. Bosun’s pipes whistle shrilly, bugles blare, and in an instant the mess decks present a scene of animation. The day’s work has begun. So swiftly do the men dress and stow away their hammocks that they are ready and waiting when the mess cooks arrive with cocoa at 5.30. There is just time for a smoke, and pipes and cigarettes arc hurriedly lighted before the duty part of the watch is called away to sweep down the upper de-ck. “Out pipes,’’ sounds at 5.55. Ten minutes earlier certain of the officers have been called by their servants, and the midshipman of the watch, trim and fresh in spite of the hour, salutes as he steps on to the quarter-deck. At six o’clock all hands—seamen and marines—fall in and proceod to scrub the decks, while duty boats are lowered and cleaned by their crews. At G. 15 the guard and steerage are called, these people being granted an extra hour's sleep owing to their having been on duty after ten p.m. By seven o’clock the decks have been well scrubbed and dried, the awnings spread, and the men arc polishing up the .guns and metal fittings. Then is heard the cheerful sound of “cooks’’ being called away to prepare breakfast and lay thjr mess tables. At 7.30 the - hands disperse for breakfast, and then change into the “dress of the day.’’ The general idea of routine here described is that before eight o’clock the outside of the ship shall bo made clean and smart.

At 7.50 the guard and band parade on the quarterdeck, while duty boys and boats’ crows are fallen in and inspect" ed to sec that they arc clean. At eight o’clock follows the always impressive ceremony of hoisting the colours. Bugles blow, the White Ensign flutters up the staff, the band plays the opening bars of “God savo the King,’’ and every officer and man on deck stands at attention, facing aft. By now the men below have finished their breakfast and are enjoying a smoke, when, at 8.30, the bosuns’ whistles summon them to their various tasks. Both watches are fallen in,

The Ship Awakes. It is now 4.45 a.m., and a pearly dawn is breaking over the Mediterranean. Muffled sounds come from the mess decks, where the ship’s boys and men under punishment arc being quietly called. They turn out of their hammocks, which arc quickly lashed up and stowed. At five o’clock the bosun’s mates, buglers, divisional pot-

while the mess decks are cleaned up by the cooks and certain other men detailed for the job. Others are told off to polish up the brightwork. At nine o’clock the, bugles sound “Divisions,’’ i.e., the inspection of all seamen and marines, each officer jcing responsible for the appearance and turnout of his own division. This inspection is followed by prayers, which arc read by the “padre” or by the captain if no chaplain is in the ship. Physical drill is the nekt item in the day’s programme. In some ships it takes the form of a sxjrint round the docks, with the band playing lively tunes in an ever-increasing tempo; in others, a more conventional stylo of “jerks” is preferred. But the exercises are always strenuous and well adapted to their purpose, which is to expel the “tinned air” from "the men’s lit tigs and refresh brain and body for the labours of the day.

Every Man His TaskThe commander now goes round the ship to assign the morning's work. The marines carry on under the supervision of their own officers; the gunnery officer and the torpedo officer set their respective parties to the particular job in hand, and work goes on steadily throughout the ship until 10.20, when “stand easy” for a ten minutes’ rest and smoko is sounded. At 11.30 the afternoon watch goes to dinner. Deck parties sweep down the decks, and cooks are piped away. Punctually at noon the men’s dinner is served, and at the same time they are told what ar-

rangements for leave have been made. Men under punishment arc allowed only half an hour for dinner, but the other hands arc free until 1.10, when cooks and sweepers again get busy clearing up the mess decks. From 1.15 drills and training classes continue until 3.30, when the first dog watch and the liberty men go to tea. Evening quarters are held at four, divisions are reported correct, and the commander makes a tour of inspection on the upper decks. Following this the hands are piped to tea and to shift into night clothing—which, however, docs not mean sleeping attire. An

hour later the stokers, most of whom have spent the day in overalls, also change into a more presentable rig. At 6.30 preparations begin for the night. Guns are covered, awnings “sloped” (that is, eased off to prevent undue stretch by rain or dew), and small boats, cutters and whalers are hoisted into the davits. Supper is served at 7.15, and by eight o’clock hammocks are being Jung, the cooks and sweepers give the mess decks a final tidy-ing-up. A Ceaseless Watch. The duty part of each watch, representing one-quarter of the starboard

and port watches, are now mustered, together with the crew of the night boat and the firo party. Watertight doors in the lower compartments are closed, and other precautions taken to ensure the safety of the ship during the night hours. At 8.45 all the boys are turned in, and, being heathily tired, they can reckon on eight hours of sound sleep. The commander then walks through the mess decks and makes his report to the-captain. At ten the men are piped down. In a few minutes the ship has relapsed into that comparative silence which, -will endure till shortly before dawn.-

Such is a typical day’s routine in a big warship while lying in harbour. At sea, of course, the programme is modified, as also in port on Saturday and Sunday. Saturday is ‘make and mend’ day, when there is practically no work in the afternoon, and no drills, except cleaning ship. On Sunday work ceases at 9 a.m., and Divine service is held at 10.30, “church” being rigged on the quarter-deck or the stokers’ mess deck. When in port shore leave is given as freely as the exigencies of the service permit, and in a ship undergoing dockyard refit three-quarters of the crew are allowed to go ashore every day.