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In July of forty five I was sent to a Naval Station up
country, it was a massive camp with lots of officers, the
officers quarters were about half a mile from the ratings
camp which was made up of bamboo huts. There was a very
big officers restaurant and kitchen complex and the catering
staff had a hut next to the kitchen. I was amazed to find
that my function was that of a supervisor and on the night
shift was in charge of about thirty Ceylonese staff and
they had to call me Hall Master, lucky for me they were
all very able and the work ran like clockwork, my job turned
out to be issuing stores, locking and unlocking of stockroom
doors and signing day passes so that the night staff would
be able to leave the camp in the morning, spelling their
names was a nightmare, it took me all my time to spell English
names. One day the Petty Officer in charge, who had taken
a fancy to me by the way took me in a truck to the local
market. Shopping was great, about fifty young kids followed
us round with baskets on their head, as we bought after
a bit of haggling on the price say a hundred of this and
a few hundred of that, the kids would scoop them up into
their baskets and take them to the truck. When the job was
completed the kids were milling around holding up their
hands for payment and shouting Master, Master, the only
way to pay them was to throw hands full of money into the
air and stand back out of way as quick as possible.
The attention from the Petty Officer was a bit of a pest,
he was for ever trying to grope me and get his hand up my
shorts, telling me how well built he was and what a lovely
little bum I had, he was a big bloke about ten years older
than me and I tried to keep out of his way as much as possible,
I was lucky in the end to leave Ceylon without being deflowered,
I have tried to analyse since why I never reported him and
with the passing of time I just don't know.
Regretfully can't say it ruined my future life or gave
me nightmares so I don't suppose I can ask the Navy for
compensation and I don't want the police going round arresting
the guy.
There was an officers barbers shop and as we were a long
way from the main camp the catering staff were allowed to
use it if there was no officers waiting. Well one day I
went to the barbers and he had just nicely got started when
a group of young officers arrived and they had to sit waiting
about ten minutes for him to finish with me. When he took
off the sheet and they saw that I was not an officer they
were not very happy, one of them gave me a dressing down,
told me to stand to attention before an officer and said
in a very obnoxious voice that the next time I was in the
chair and an officer came in I must jump up and make way
for him, leave the room until it was clear before going
back in. I had to stand there and take it, it made me for
the first time in my life feel inferior and ashamed of myself
for not standing up to him whatever the cost. I think on
that day a socialist was born.
We celebrated VJ day in the normal way, all the catering
staff got drunk on arrack the local spirit, the whole camp
seemed to get blind drunk. The next day we were lined up
before the Commanding Officer and given a bit of light hearted
dressing down with the hope that we would all soon be returning
to the UK.
On leaving the station I was sent to join the crew of HMS
Colossus a fleet carrier in Colombo harbour. We sailed to
Trincomalee one of the worlds great natural harbours and
we anchored well out from the shore. One day the pipes sounded
and a voice said 'will Officers Cook Peter Hall report to
the starboard gangway', what on earth could it be, well
it was my best friend from Birkenshaw able seaman Herbert
Firth, he had heard that I was on the Colossus and had come
out to see me on a small tug boat. What with the pipes,
the saluting, and the planes lined up on the flight deck
it was unreal.
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