BOYS, R.N.
" T CALLS it child-stealing, that's what I calls it," said the 1 Quartermaster to the Corporal of the gangway as the draft came over the side. Certainly they did look a bit juvenile, and the bags that came with them were in some cases about as tall as their owners. They'd had a forty-hour journey, but when they lined up on deck they looked as cheerful as a lot of cock-sparrows. They were good to look at in these days. These were no turned-down applicants from the Exemption Tribunals, for they need not have troubled the Tribunals for two years or more. The Officer of the Watch looks them over before sending them for'ard to their Mess. " Here, my boy," pointing to a Signal Boy standing fourth in the row, " what have you got on your sleeve ? " " Please, Sir, a wound- stripe." The Quartermaster gave a strangled cough and enhanoed his reputation as a scholar by breathing into the Corporal's ear : " Hout of the mouths of babes and sucklin's." It was a fact, all right.
Some of the draft were proper old salts who had sniffed the air of the Mediterranean from the deck of a monitor, or that of the North Sea from a destroyer. They catch 'em young in this Service— make men of them quick. These are our Active Service Boys, des- tined to become the long-service seamen, signalmen, and wireless operators. The big training establishments are their nurseries, and there they get a thorough good grounding in their job, which when completed is rounded off by their being drafted to sea-going ships. Once on board a big ship they are very carefully looked after, and form the pupils of a kind of rough preparatory school, being put in messes to themselves. In many cases these messes are entirely separated from the rest of the ship's company. In charge of them is an officer specially detailed for the job, who is responsible to the Commander for their general welfare, and under him is a trusted P.O., generally of the Physical Training Staff, who lives with them in the Mess, and acts the part of Father, Instructor, and Friend.
When you realize that sometimes we have a. hundred boys in the complement, it is easy to see that we have no light job, for the training and welfare of these boys is one of the most important and responsible duties in the Service. We pay so much attention to them because they are our future Navy. Many of the men of to- day one looks at in a kind of non-committal and almost unin- terested way, because one knows that they are only birds of passage, Their chief subject of conversation is how long demobilization will take, and the chance of success of a fried-fish shop in Bethnal Green. With the boys, it is their future in the Service. One looks over thq crowd and realizes that it is from this material that the Mates of the next decade will be made, and that muoh of the future of our great Service Iles in the way we handle them now. Keep them happy, fit, and contented now, and we shall see the fruits of it in after years. Yet the golden mean has to be carefully kept. There is no room for softness ; discipline and reetraint have to be rigidly enforced ; but that is not incompatible with a very cheery boys' Mess. Why, in one ship, where we had a crowd of boys, the Captain used to rule them with a rod, not of iron certainly, but of a .much more flexible material, and they loved him and had the happiest Mess I ever struck. The proof of the soundness of that Captain's treatment lies in the fact that I am continually knocking up against those one-time boys, and they all have a rate of Leading Hand, or higher. I tell you, if you once get into working amongst these youngsters, you never want to shift, especially when your work lies, as mine does, in their free hours and amusement times.
There are many pitfalls nowadays, however, so it behoves 0118 to be careful. The boys, after a few months' experience, beoome imbued with the idea that there is but one kind of boy in the Service, and that is the Active Service Boy. They get on toppingly with the R.N.R. Trawler boys and others who are in the Service temporarily, but the fact remains to them that they themselves are R.N., and compared with that every one else is an "Also ran." Don't sneer, ye shorefolk, it's a fine trait, really. There's not an ounce of snobbishness in it ; it's simply Pride of Trade. I nearly ligot into trouble about this the other night. I took thirty of these budding salts out to a kind of concert-conversazione, where our
.hosts were the lads of a local parish club. Just before the end of the entertainment, one of my sportsmen comes alongside where I was sitting and says cheerfully : " Are yer going to sling a speech at 'em, Sir, thanking 'em and all that sort of guff ? " I shifted nervously in my seat, and intimated that I had thought of it, if he didn't mind. I wondered whether he was going to give me a tip or two. He was. " Well, Sir, take care to say Active Service Boys, R.N., or they'll think we're ' durations' " I These youngsters are very quick in learning the valuable lesson of handiness in an emergency. The whole of their training and the tradition behind them are responsible for it, and I was very glad of this adaptability one evening at a certain seaport where the ship was refitting. I had to provide some amusement for the boys in the evenings, as, unless they have a responsible chaperon, they have to be on board by seven. On one evening I received an invitation from the Missions to Seamen Chaplain of the Port to bring the boys to a concert at the Institute. It was a pouring wet night, but we got there all right, and found the Chaplain of the Institute tearing his hair because his concert party couldn't come.
The only artist was a lady who had fought her way through the deluge. What were we to do ? " Hi, 'Erbie, got yer mouth- organ with you 1" 'Erbie, proud man, stepped forward, and thence- forward for two solid hours, with the help of our lady friend, that party kept the concert going with a kick. What a sportswoman that lady was I Her accompaniments to the mouth-organ and other original items were masterpieces, her interest unabated, her sym- pathy real. I don't know her name—we sailed forty-eight hours after—but if this ever catches her eye, then just " Thank you."
It is not only in moments like these, though, that the youngsters show their worth. Time after time, I come across cases of how the boys have borne themselves in moments of stress and danger, which show that they back up their pride in the Service by actions worthy of it. No one hears anything about these things outside.
They are too common to make a song about. Sometimes a story like that of Boy Cornwell catches the public eye, but for that one which is chronicled there are a hundred unsung.
We were sitting on the grass waiting to take our turns at the wicket one day when Boy S—, a survivor from a torpedoed merchant cruiser, said to me : " I 'ad a letter from the Captain this morning," and the precious document was pushed across to me. The simplicity and kindness of the letter were apparent in every line. It just said that the writer was glad the boy had re- covered from his shaking, and that because he had done so well the Admiralty would allow hint to be rated Ordinary Seaman six months ahead of his time, and that though this rating would not come for some time, the boy must work hard to take full advantage of it. That was the letter. I waited for a boyish recital, perhaps a little exaggerated, of what he had done, but it was not forthcoming, and an hour or two later I had to pump it out of him. " I was on the Bridge when the ' mouldy' hit us just abaft of it," he told me.
" We soon had a proper list on us. The Chief Yeoman had a lot of important papers in his cabin, and he asked me to try and get them for him. It was a bit of sport wading about in the Chief's cabin.with the water up to my knees. When I got back the Captain sent me along to the Sick Bay to see if they were all out of there. Still, that was nothing compared to my last message for the Captain, as I had to find the Chief Engineer in the engine-room. That was almost a swimming job. Hello ! it's my turn in ; give us a bat, Nobby."
Not much varnish there, a very ordinary yarn, and he hardly thought it would interest me much, but I was able to put the missing details in. I could see that Boy stumbling along with his messages and the ship with a heavy list. That's the type of the Boy, R.N., and there are hundreds like him, God bless 'em.
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