One Man's Mistake
About a week after arriving at the Annexe, the recruits discovered that nights could be as unpredictable as days.
Sometime around two o'clock in the morning, a noise disturbed the mess. It was nothing particularly dramatic, but it was enough to attract the attention of the Junior Leader on duty.
Within seconds the lights came on.
The order followed immediately.
"Empty your lockers. Get it into your kitbags. Outside. Move!"
Nobody argued.
By then, they knew better.
Bunks were abandoned, lockers emptied and clothing, boots and equipment hurriedly stuffed into heavy kitbags. There was no time to think about why it was happening. The only concern was to move quickly enough not to attract attention for the wrong reason.
Outside, it was raining heavily.
Kitbags were heaved onto shoulders and the mess formed up in threes.
Then they doubled whilst five other messes slept soundly.
Round and round the parade ground they went while the Junior Leader, sensibly dressed in foul-weather clothing, watched from the side. Memory suggests there were eight circuits, although after so many years the exact number is less important than the impression it left. There were enough for every shoulder to feel the weight of a fully packed kitbag and for every recruit to become thoroughly soaked.
Finally the order came to halt.
There was no lecture.
No explanation.
The recruits were simply told to return to the mess, unpack every kitbag, restore every locker exactly as it had been, mop the water from the polished deck and get back into bed.
Reveille arrived, as always, at half past five.
The lights came on.
The routine continued.
No allowance was made for the shortened night's sleep and, as far as anyone in the Administration Block appeared concerned, nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
No one in the mess ever discovered what had caused the punishment.
Perhaps someone knew. If they did, they kept it to themselves. For everyone else, the reason remained one more unanswered question from those first weeks at the Annexe.
What everyone did understand was that they had all shared it.
Looking back many years later, one memory remained clearer than any attempt to work out who had been responsible.
Everyone had paid for one person's mistake.
At the time, that seemed right, just and entirely expected.
The Navy of those days could be hard but, when it was, it was hard on everyone in equal measure.
No Longer Civilians part 4 - Life in Leander Mess
Annexe 119 - Primary source: RN-011
RN-E-148
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