The order "Diving stations" was given and, hastily scuttling down the
conning-tower, the crew rapidly had the boat submerging, to leave only
the periscope visible.
The commander kept the boat slowly cruising with his periscope trained
on the approaching smoke, ready for anything. Judge of his amazement
when his view was obscured by the face of "Nobby" Clark (our Cockney
A.B.) at the other end of the periscope. Realising at once that "Nobby"
had been locked out (actually he had fallen asleep and had been rudely
awakened by his cold plunge), we, of course, "broke surface" to collect
frightened, half-drowned "Nobby," whose only ejaculation was: "Crikey!
I ain't half glad I caught the ole bus."--_J. Brodie, 177 Manor Road,
Mitcham, Surrey._
Dinner before Mines!
"Somewhere in the North Sea" in 1917, when I was a stoker on H.M.S.
_Champion_, there were plenty of floating mines about.
One day, several of us were waiting outside the galley (cook house) for
our dinners, and the cook, a man from Walworth, was shouting out the
number of messes marked on the meat dishes which were ready for the men
to take away.
He had one dish in his hand with no number marked on it, when a stoker
rushed up and shouted: "We nearly struck a mine--missed it by inches,
Cookey." But Cookey only shouted back: "Never mind about blinkin' mines
nah; is this _your_ perishin' dish with no tally on it?"--_W. Downs
(late stoker, R.N.), 20 Tracey Street, Kennington Road, S.E._