Page 116 - Michael Frost-Voyages to Maturity-23531.indd

But life went on, as it had to. The next day, a Saturday, was the MAR
dance. Jacqueline came (as so often with ‘family friends’ we enjoyed a platonic
friendship, having known each other since we had been seven or eight, she and
David being two years older and younger than me respectively) and we dallied
in Southampton because Oriana was in port and we had the opportunity to go
aboard this splendid ship; it was quite a lot larger than any of those ships which
I knew, but had all sorts of novel facets, not the least of which was its elegant
appearance; I rather hoped that one day I might serve for a good while on such
a vessel. The dance was a considerable success, but, as it had to be, very chaste,
and I drove Jacqueline home in what had now been christened The Tank. I stayed
the night, the next day being the occasion for a visit David’s new workplace, only
a short distance away. We met three of the Danes; David’s permanent half-smile
was instantly explained.

I quickly returned to business at Warsash, or, more accurately, Whale Island,
Portsmouth. This site, more particularly known as HMS Excellent, is the Navy’s
gunnery school, and it was for that purpose that we were there for a few days (it
was but a short distance from Warsash). We were soon told that we would be
under the command of one Lieutenant Tricky; when met, it was evident that he
would be a hard task-master, for he was an officer who had risen from the ranks
into the officer class.
It is worth explaining the perception that the RN had of itself. It had always
been the Senior Service, and many more sovereigns and dukes had served in its
ranks than in the Army, let alone in the Air Force. It was difficult to be accepted
into the Naval College (Dartmouth), and there was a decided preference for
those with the right accent and bearing. The perception that had been inculcated
into me was that in order of precedence, there was the RN, then P&O (four of
us cadets on the course were from that company) and lastly, the riff-raff of the
Merchant Navy. The Wavy Navy (RNR, so named because their stripes, while of
the same ranks as the other ‘navies’, were differentiated by having wavy rather
than straight stripes) didn’t really rank, members being too few in number. The
RN, being very conscious of its majesty, kept out lesser beings, the exception
to this rule being those exceptional sailors from the ranks who exhibited ‘the
right stuff’. And Lieutenant Tricky had the right stuff in abundance (smart, a
good instructor, technically more knowledgeable than those who had never
maintained, cleaned or had to take apart a Bofors Gun, and with an officer-like
bearing) but he was plainly an outsider – his accent immediately relegated him
to the ranks of a social interloper. We were invited into the Mess (the communal
dining room, where treasures of war – some going back to the Armada – sporting
trophies, there being a very important annual Navy/Army rugby match, and
alcohol were kept for both display and consumption), but it was apparent that
he was not one of the gang of lascivious young men who constituted the bulk
of the officer corps; he moved in a much smaller and less noisome group than

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