| It was Friday morning, early November 1959. I was 16, and working as an apprentice tailor. The factory manager was a tyrant who always seemed to pick me out for public humiliation in front of dozens of women. I suppose it made him feel good, as at 5'3", I was the only one shorter than him!
He told me that my father had phoned to say I had to go home at dinner-time. Fearing the worst, I cycled the 5 miles home. On arrival, my father handed me a letter, my very first one! In it were papers to say that I had been accepted for service in the Royal Navy, and to report to Liverpool recruiting office on Monday. Overjoyed, I leapt back onto my bike and back to work.
Everyone was most concerned, as telephone messages to the factory usually spelled out trouble. I proudly flourished my letter, and told the boss that I was leaving that very day. Everyone made a fuss of me and I cannot recall if I did any more work that day.
Sunday dinner-time, my father took me to his local pub, The Cumberland, as I recall, and said to the landlord "Jack, I know my boy is only 16, but he joins the Navy tomorrow. Can I buy him a pint?" The reply was "If he's old enough to serve his country, he's old enough to have a drink, and the first one is on me" I felt 10' tall! I even had a tot of rum bought from an ex-mate. "Get used to it lad, you'll soon be drawing your tot"
The rest of that day is a blur, but next morning I set off with a pathetic bag of clothes, (first up was best dressed in our house!) and began a twenty-four years stint under the white ensign. It was a day that changed my life and made a man of me.
User: rumrat
Location: Crewe
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