The Junior Mess Leader
Arriving at Leander Mess introduced us to a new kind of authority.
Until that point, the people giving instructions had been clearly part of the establishment. They wore the uniform, carried themselves differently and appeared to belong to the world we had just entered.
The Junior Mess Leader was different.
He was a sailor, but not in the way we expected a sailor to look. He was not an instructor with years of experience behind him. He was a retained recruit who had previously passed through the same system we were now entering.
To us, that made him both familiar and confusing.
He was one of us, but he was also the person telling us what to do.
Each mess in the New Entry Division had its own Junior Mess Leader. They were selected from previous intakes and retained while their original recruitment moved on to begin specialist training elsewhere. Their role was to help new entries learn the basics of naval life: drill, organisation, routines and the standards expected within the mess.
It was an effective arrangement. Someone who had recently learned the system could explain it to those who had not yet begun to understand it.
For the new entry, however, the experience could be rather different.
The Junior Mess Leader in Leander Mess appeared to take his responsibilities very seriously. He paced around the mess, speaking loudly and making sure we understood that we had arrived somewhere with rules, expectations and consequences.
At the time, I did not like him at all.
He seemed like a bully. I had met bullies before, and he appeared to fit the description. The difference was that this particular individual had the authority of the Navy behind him.
Our immediate task, he explained repeatedly, was to get organised.
The kit we had brought with us, along with our civilian possessions, had to be packed, labelled and prepared for sending home. Jewellery and personal belongings were to be dealt with. The Navy was already making clear that the recruit's old life had to be put in order before the new one could properly begin.
To a fifteen-year-old arriving with everything he owned, this was another reminder that the rules had changed.
The mess had its own hierarchy, and the Junior Mess Leader stood at the first level we encountered. He was close enough to us to understand the transition we were experiencing, but distant enough to represent the system we were now expected to follow.
Among new entries, a story quickly developed about the purpose of Junior Leaders. The belief was that Pusser had created the position as a way of giving recruits someone to direct their frustration towards.
Whether that was true or not was another matter. It was certainly how some new entries understood the arrangement.
What is clear is that the Junior Mess Leader occupied an unusual position. He was neither an ordinary recruit nor a permanent instructor. He stood between the two worlds, expected to enforce standards that he had only recently learned himself.
That position could not have been easy.
From the recruit's viewpoint, however, the message was simple. The Navy was already teaching us that there was always someone responsible for maintaining standards, and that responsibility could come from unexpected directions.
We had arrived expecting the Navy to consist of officers, Petty Officers and sailors.
Within hours, we discovered that it also contained people like the Junior Mess Leader: sailors who had learned the system and were now responsible for teaching it to those coming behind them.
Entering Leander Mess Part 3 - The First Meal
Annexe 114 - Primary source: RN-010
RN-E-145-02
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