Screwjack

Arrival in Hong Kong

In late 1965 the Royal Navy in Singapore invited REME and RAF engineers in Malaya to send a few men on leave to join HMS Triumph for a trip to Hong Kong and back. The ship was originally an aircraft carrier but had been converted into a heavy repair ship. I and three members of 34 company Workshop were accepted for it. I took the necessary uniforms and a suit and we joined the ship. I had a small bunk space and shared the attendance of an oriental steward.

The ship was powered by steam turbines with four boilers but I was told that one was not working. Nevertheless, in early December we set sail into the South China Sea. A few hours out from Singapore we heard the sound of Triumph’s pom-poms (anti-aircraft guns). I went on the deck and saw they were firing at a drogue towed by a Blackburn Buccaneer for target practice. I decided to explore the ship and had a look at the engine room, but all I could see was the shafts driving the propellers. I went to the quarter deck low at the stern to see the impressive wake above the propellers a few feet away. I often did this during the trip.

In the wardroom bar there was a no-treating rule. Everyone had a bar number and we signed chits for drinks. If you invited someone to have a drink with you, you wrote their bar number for their drink and your number for your own. The only but frequent exception was during the game of liar- dice where each loser had to buy a round. The only libation during liar dice was a “horse’s neck” ie brandy and ginger. Each loser in a five player game would call “Steward!”, the bar steward would come over with a chit and pencil, and the loser would write “5 HN” and sign his name and bar number.

On arrival at early morning in Hong Kong, Triumph was moored at a quay called HMS Tamar. On the other side of the quay was HMS Manxman, a ship designed to be a minelayer. Manxman was reputed to be the fastest warship in the world, capable of 40 knots. I soon discovered that Royal Navy folklore abounded with tales of Manxman’s exploits, usually to the slight detriment of the US Navy.

After breakfast I went ashore on a family mission. My father’s older brother Charles had a master’s ticket in the merchant navy but had decided to take holy orders and he became a priest. He had been the chaplain at the Missions to Seamen in Hong Kong when the Japanese invaded in 1940. Uncle Charles was taken prisoner and spent the rest of the war in Shamshuipo POW camp further inland. Conditions there were appalling, but he never spoke to me about it. My grandmother said that he had been the camp chaplain but, true to his origins in a Somerset farming family, he had also organised the growing of tomatoes for food on the camp excrement. He received an MBE after the war.

I took the Star ferry to the mainland and hired a rickshaw to visit the Missions to Seamen. For fun I got the driver to sit in the rickshaw to guide me while I jogged between the shafts. At the Mission, incredibly, I met a ships engineer who had been taken POW with my uncle. He said that by misfortune he was wearing brown overalls that day. The Japanese insisted that he was therefore military and he was ill- treated accordingly. He said that after his release he would only ever wear blue. He said that Uncle Charles had worn a small handmade wooden cross in Shamshuipo camp and had given it to St John’s cathedral in Hong Kong after the war. I just had to see it, so I went to St John’s. I saw the cross, it was about six inches high. With it was a typed label with my uncle’s name and a few words about its origin.

That evening the wardroom had a cocktail party and each officer was asked to host a guest or couple. I was honoured to be asked to look after the Italian consul’s secretary, a mature lady called Gabriella. Guests began to arrive at 7pm and one man was asked “Is Gabriella coming?” The man, presumably the consul, said “No, I gotta new secretary, she is Elena;” A few moments later the room fell silent as a vision from Vogue with an aura of Chanel walked in. I approached her, and she confirmed she was Elena. As the steward offered a tray of drinks, I told her I was in the Army and she asked what was my job on board. I said I played liar dice and I explained the game to her. I said we had played every day since leaving Singapore and all the ships officers were disgraceful liars. I said that as a keen player I had graded the ability of each one on a scale of one to ten. Elena was bright as well as beautiful and probably guessed where this was leading. I said “Would you like me to introduce you to each one of them? I will tell you his liar grade first.” Elena stifled her laughter and agreed. Before each introduction I whispered the number in her ear, right by the Chanel. This went well, Elena could hardly go wrong. After about two hours the party began to break up and I suggested going ashore. She agreed and I remember the Master at Arms’ odd look as we crossed the ship’s rail. I left it to Elena to choose where to go, I only knew the Cathedral and the Missions to Seamen. She chose the Dragon Boat bar in the Mandarin Hotel. Then followed an extraordinary evening of drinking endless cups of lemon tea, laughter and chat about our respective countries, idiosyncrasies and languages. Then I walked with her to her flat and said goodnight at the door. And no, I am not lying now.

Screwjack

WHERE ARE THEY NOW?

Are you ex-serving REME? Did you have a partner or family who were in REME? Where Are They Now? is a new feature, giving you the chance to share your stories with the wider REME Family. If you have a story to share, email it to craftsmaneditor@reme-rhq.org.uk