'Shipmate' 2014 Autumn
July 1943
Our Havant correspondent and his class
1
Our Havant correspondent and his class
1

Cover picture is of Gerald Lillicrap and his class. This was the class that Gerald wrote about in the last edition. After the Bombing incident. Anyone who can point him out gets a prize(?) Clue ;- he was at the AGM in Sittingborne.
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Crossed the Bar “ Lest we forget”
May 2014 Aged 90
Ron Davis P/JX330706
Ron was a founder member and original treasurer of the association and wished to be buried in his Collingwood blazer and flannels with representation and the standard.
Ken Waugh and ‘Buck’ Buckley attended. Ron’s nephew, Terry, has thanked us on behalf of the family. He also sent a couple of photo’s which are in the Gallery on the website.
Sunday 26th October
Doug Newell C/JX8038
Doug was the associations original Standard Bearer and carried out his duties at both reunions and 'passing's' until retiring due to ill health. Ken and Buck attended to represent the association.
There is a note about Doug later in the Shipmate.
November 2014
John Proudlove P/JX536669
John was in Collingwood in 1945. He was one of the 'founder' members of the association. He lived in Darwen in Lancashire until moving to be near his son, Peter, in Leistershire for the last 9 months.
Please note, the association will attempt to attend all funerals given enough warning. Contact Ken on his e-mail or phone.
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Association Officers
Chairman Mike Crowe 01983 404727
Vice Chairman Don Edwards
Treasurer Dennis Patterson 01912 584694
Membership
Secretary Peter Lacey 01363 884230
Welfare Secretary Ken Waugh 01788 811966
& Archivist
Merchandise Peter Edmondson 01772 746443
Website & Editor Roger Birkett 01772 490681
Standard Bearer ‘Buck’ Buckley 01442 215667
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Crossed the Bar “ Lest we forget”
May 2014 Aged 90
Ron Davis P/JX330706
Ron was a founder member and original treasurer of the association and wished to be buried in his Collingwood blazer and flannels with representation and the standard.
Ken Waugh and ‘Buck’ Buckley attended. Ron’s nephew, Terry, has thanked us on behalf of the family. He also sent a couple of photo’s which are in the Gallery on the website.
Sunday 26th October
Doug Newell C/JX8038
Doug was the associations original Standard Bearer and carried out his duties at both reunions and 'passing's' until retiring due to ill health. Ken and Buck attended to represent the association.
There is a note about Doug later in the Shipmate.
November 2014
John Proudlove P/JX536669
John was in Collingwood in 1945. He was one of the 'founder' members of the association. He lived in Darwen in Lancashire until moving to be near his son, Peter, in Leistershire for the last 9 months.
Please note, the association will attempt to attend all funerals given enough warning. Contact Ken on his e-mail or phone.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Association Officers
Chairman Mike Crowe 01983 404727
Vice Chairman Don Edwards
Treasurer Dennis Patterson 01912 584694
Membership
Secretary Peter Lacey 01363 884230
Welfare Secretary Ken Waugh 01788 811966
& Archivist
Merchandise Peter Edmondson 01772 746443
Website & Editor Roger Birkett 01772 490681
Standard Bearer ‘Buck’ Buckley 01442 215667
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The Veteran
He was getting old and paunchy And his hair was falling fast, And he sat around the Legion, Telling stories of the past. Of a war that he once fought in And the deeds that he had done, In his exploits with his buddies; They were heroes, every one. And 'tho sometimes to his neighbours His tales became a joke, All his buddies listened quietly For they knew where of he spoke. Then there is the Vet Who did not have to fight Because there was no war When he began his flight But rest assured he too Would have given up his life If he had been called to battle In the violence and the strife. But we'll hear his tales no longer, For ol' Joe has passed away, And the world's a little poorer For a Veteran died today. He won't be mourned by many, Just his children and his wife. For he lived an ordinary, Very quiet sort of life. He held a job and raised a family, Going quietly on his way; And the world won't note his passing, 'Tho a Veteran died today. |
When politicians leave this earth,
Their bodies lie in state, While thousands note their passing, And proclaim that they were great. Papers tell of their life stories From the time that they were young, But the passing of a Veteran Goes unnoticed, and unsung. Is the greatest contribution To the welfare of our land, Some jerk who breaks his promise And cons his fellow man? Or the ordinary fellow Who in times of war and strife, Goes off to serve his country And offers up his life? The politician's stipend And the style in which he lives, Are often disproportionate, To the service that he gives. While the ordinary Veteran, Who offered up his all, Is paid off with a medal And perhaps a pension, small. It is not the politicians With their compromise and ploys, Who won for us the freedom That our country now enjoys. Should you find yourself in danger, With your enemies at hand, Would you really want some cop-out, With his ever-waffling stand? Or would you want a Veteran His home, his country, his kin, Just a common Veteran, Who would fight until the end. He was just a common Veteran, And his ranks are growing thin, But his presence should remind us We may need his likes again. For when countries are in conflict, We find the Veteran's part, Is to clean up all the troubles That the politicians start. If we cannot do him honor While he's here to hear the praise, Then at least let's give him homage At the ending of his days. Perhaps just a simple headline In the paper that might say: "OUR COUNTRY IS IN MOURNING, A VETERAN DIED TODAY. |
- Dates For Your Diary
Jack Dusty
- EDITORS MUSINGS
- Well, here we go again! I am trying to complete this edition before going on a previously postponed holiday.
The last AGM was successful and I got to meet Gerald Lillicrap (our Havant correspondent) and have got some photos from
him and will be putting in about his Indian tour at the end of WW2 in the next edition.
I also want to include, in the following editions, reports from the various committee members.
During the last AGM we gained a Standard Bearer in the guise of ‘Buck’ Buckley –more of him when I find out myself!!
He has already been called on for duty at Ron Davis’ funeral.
Mike Crowe had to cancel the ‘Parade picnic’ due to numbers and so we have missed a chance to ‘liaise???’ with the parade staff.
Speaking of which, Peter Edmondson and myself (+ Mrs.B) attended the 400year Mayoral Service and Dedication at Stafford. It was also attended by the Collingwood Guard and also present were the pongo’s and crabs. We attended the church service and the march past—oh yes—and then the reception at the council offices. I think we did the Association well and talked to the Naval GI’s and the Exec Officer who we’d met on last years visit.
I would like to thank the people who have sent photo’s and ‘ditties’ to be included in the magazine. Please send more, as any articles on—”What I Did after training”—can be of interest to all in the association.
I am including a outline from Bev Spencer and hope to get him to ‘flesh-out’ places like HMS Afrikander.
I am also putting in, under Chairman’s Report, the info Mike provided about his time in the RN.
Sorry, I’ve been on holiday so now ‘racing ‘ to catch up! The next edition will be after Christmas so please send your comments, ditties, stories and photos by email or snail mail.
Yours Aye
Roger.
Graduation Day
THEY WILL LOOK BACK IN YEARS TO COME AND THINK HOW THEIR FRIENDS HAVE CHANGED !!
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A COUPLE OF THINGS TO PONDER ON
What if there were no hypothetical questions?
&
How do they get deer to cross the road at those yellow signs?
&
If a turtle doesn't have a shell, is it homeless or naked?
&
What was the best thing before sliced bread?
&
How is it possible to have a Civil war?
&
Do infants enjoy infancy as much as adults enjoy adultery?
And remember
Don’t sweat the petty things and don’t pet the sweaty things !
&
Atheism is a non-prophet organisation.
==============================================================================================
&
How do they get deer to cross the road at those yellow signs?
&
If a turtle doesn't have a shell, is it homeless or naked?
&
What was the best thing before sliced bread?
&
How is it possible to have a Civil war?
&
Do infants enjoy infancy as much as adults enjoy adultery?
And remember
Don’t sweat the petty things and don’t pet the sweaty things !
&
Atheism is a non-prophet organisation.
==============================================================================================
HMS COLLINGWOOD
1939—1945
Revd CA Grant MA RN Rtd.
Continued from Spring Edition
THE BUILDING OF THE ESTABLISHMENT. THE EARLY DAYS
Spring and early summer 1940 were exciting weeks of endless sunshine. There was an air of eager expectancy, as day after day wooden structures were going up and day by day batches of recruits were arriving. Our Church hut, set back from the main road and propped on stilts, on a large area of concrete, gave a grandstand view of the vast expanse of the largest parade ground in Europe; classes everywhere, marching and drilling. Instructors using its speciousness to give splendid isolation since Gunnery and Seamanship do not mix. Around the deck, classes were grouped beside the long boats on their davots, around the capstans with chain lockers at the Foretop Mast, or heaving the line from Chain platforms, - ‘Swinging the Lead’ – a hive of activity Every day the marching was smarter and the young bodies fitter. It was a great sight, a contrast from the new arrivals meandering up the main road, suitcase laden, to be marched back later for the kitting up, with a semblance of order, under their appointed ‘Father Figure.’ These old CPO’s back from retirement, wielded a mellow but firm discipline. They had deferent respect for the cross section of young men drawn from all classes, trades and professions, primarily volunteers and willing conscripts, placed under their charge.
There was also the constant flow of traffic, builders’ lorries with materials for the metamorphosis, the rapidly changing pattern of wooden structures growing like mushroom clusters which rose out of the mud day after day.
Opposite and behind the Training Office, the small NAAFI canteen became a commodious building with anti-rooms, kitchens etc. Two thousand men and more accommodated in the main restaurant, all but dwarfing our small hut.
At the far side of the parade ground, the gun battery was completed in red brick and the Fxle Division was almost complete when the conveyor belt of wooden structures came to a halt. Wood was scarce. The lorries, however, kept up the stream of materials, bricks and cement, metal windows frames and roof trestles. The gun battery site completed, the bricklayers were ready to take over and the building continued of the Foretop Division. All was completed by mid-June.
One familiar figure passing up and down, was the young Scots architect in charge. He had invariably a rolled plan under his arm and swinging a yard stick, like the Commander’s cane. He was a frequent visitor at the Church hut at Stand-easy. One day he stood in the inner doorway, unfurled a plan and said ‘My firm have decided to make you a gift. We suggest that we build as an addition to the wooden structured Chapel an Altar area of hand made red brick, used for ecclesiastical interiors.’ We were justly proud of it. For some time I continued to use the Chapel for Communion and class lectures while the Cof E met in the large NAAFI anti-rooms over the way.
Over the years I saw senior Church of England chaplains come and go. Twice I resisted attempts of the far left theological opinion, with little aesthetic taste, to whitewash the back wall. Years afterwards I returned to find it a fait accomplish and was saddened to see the problem of discolourment subsequent chaplains had inherited. The mystics had had their way. It was austere, but a very beautiful background for the richly ornate Alter Cloth, which had been part of the Coronation Alter Furnishings procured by the Rev Hyde Gosling, who followed Padre Ryan.
Father Gosling, as his two junior chaplains called him, was an Anglo-Catholic of the extreme Cowley Order. He practised what he preached, a man of rare charm, and deeply spiritual. He used to make almost weekly trips to London gathering items of religious significance to adorn the Chapel. He invariably brought back some small gift of unobtainable sweet for my little daughter and call at our home for afternoon tea. He was very genuine although a little ingenious in this ritual but we loved him for it and respected his gentleness. It was so obvious that he needed these things to make the Sanctuary a place where he felt at home with his God. When he appeared with a large box of chocolates ‘For Madam’ our Wren found that Stations of the Cross around the walls. It was too good an opportunity to miss; I stood in the doorway, liked what I saw. It was so much in keeping with the season of Lent, unlike the gift for Madam, that I said in a voice that could be heard, ‘So this is where we have arrived we shall have to do something about this.’ Behind me came a tearful voice of a junior chaplain, destined one day to be a Bishop, ‘Father was afraid you would be angry and complain to the Commodore.’ Finding it difficult to keep a straight face I said ‘I would have to go higher than that, it is an Admiralty matter.’ Naturally I forgot all about it but after two days I realised that they were keeping out of my way, and went in to the office in the old cheerful way, to be met with the anxious question, ‘Have you heard from Admiralty yet?’ There was great relief when they found that it was a leg-pull, and a greater surprise to find that their subterfuge was not only noted but also quite unnecessary. In such a time of war it was our Christian duty to show an ecumenical front. I doubted whether they appreciated the meaning of the word.
I feel however that the gift of the building contractor to HMS Collingwood should be recorded and the aesthetic intention of the architect noticed. It was in keeping with ecclesiastical tradition and it was the Ship’s Chapel for all Denominations at the time.
June saw the completion of the originally planned Establishment. It was also a month of unseen events. New additions were made to the main purpose for which it had been built. The fall of France and the first strafing of enemy aircraft meant the end of our relaxed peaceful existence. The necessity to move all training from close proximity to the Dockyard and Harbour area, made the use of the vast area of unused ground within the perimeter a Must. Before Lt Cmdr Wright could complete his complement of trainees in the Foretop he had two calls upon his accommodation. He had to provide quarters for the Signals Section from RNB Portsmouth. The other was for a briefer period when it was used for an overflow of French personnel from the over crowded French ships that had fled French ports and were anchored on the harbour trot.
As Command UB Chaplain I was host to the protestant French Chaplain. On the Saturday of that week of upheaval and uncertainty I had accompanied him to a crowded Foretop gymnasium, of all the ships’ companies of the French ships. It was standing room only. I listened to speeches made by high ranking French Officers. The men were given three choices; Repatriation to France; Remaining for reforming as the Free French Navy; Join the Royal Navy to serve, if they wished, under an assumed English name. The officer who had given the rousing speech with gallic fervour, calling for a free French Navy to fight on, was asked what he intended to do. He replied lamely that he was going home. Amid angry clamour and shouting my friend turned away in disgust and said ‘That is why we lose the War, we have rottenness in high places.’ He joined the Royal Navy as Lieutenant Martin RN and became an undercover agent on routine visits to France, dropped and picked up by rendezvous by sea. Until his tragic death in 1942, he made regular visits to the home of Rev Owen Roebuck our Methodist Chaplain
The following week many who elected to go home were back as survivors of the SS Maknes, the rapatriation ship sunk off Le Havre by a German torpedo. Among them were the ship’s Captain, his wife and little girl, the French Diplomat Civil Servant and his wife. The men were easily kitted up, the women and child I took home to have the run of my wife’s wardrobe. They spent two days in our flat enjoying the seascape of Solent waters, but dreading the ordeal before them, to get home to what? I have often wondered. They were all repatriated the following day.
At the same time in the area east of the main gates a complete new section was rising with the same mushroom growth. To the starboard side a small self-contained unit was built with a parade ground, Mast and Quarter Deck, an essential for the first Company of Upper Yardmen, Regulars undergoing the gruelling Course for Officer Selection. Their CO was a ‘One off’, Commander ‘Tally Ho’ Nicolson RN, as he was affectionately called throughout the Service. As it suggests he ‘fronted’ as a crazy extravert, but behind it was a shrewd balanced mind. When his young Divisional Officer made an adverse report on a shy young 18 year old Scot, son of a hotelier in the Trossachs, who had joined HMS Caledonia because he was obsessed with the one ambition to be a sailor. It was his quiet voice and manner and his highland lilt that was mentioned adversely. To which ‘Tally Ho’ succinctly and prophetically replied ‘I disagree, that young fellow is going places.’ I was brought into the picture when I was asked to let him read lessons in Church. It was the assurance he needed, to stand before two thousand five hundred of his fellows every Sunday.
When the first course finished the Senior Division Officer Lt Comdr Blackley was given Command of HMS Brocklesby, with the young Scot, Sub Lt Gilchrist as his Navigating Officer and their first engagement was the Dieppe Road. To cover the recovery of the troops, the ship was held on the rising tide, against the steep shingle beach directly in front of the Casino, a strong German Artillery post. Sub Lt Gilchrist was on duty throughout the engagement on the top Bridge. The ship limped home, its upper casing riddled with light shellfire; there were several casualties. I went on board when they arrived. Blackley was deeply impressed by the bearing of young Gilchrist in the ordeal; not only his courage but also his accurate navigation assessment of the beach and tide. We talked it over and he decided that accelerated promotion was of greater importance so early in his career than any recommendation for bravery. It was his first rung of the ladder. Within a few years he was Captain D of a flotilla on the China Station and in my retirement he lived near me in Edinburgh, when he was Chief of Staff to Flag Officer Scotland. He died a year after retirement of a sudden heart attack, moving his garden. It was a strange coincidence that I should be nearby his wife and young family at the end of his Naval service and of a life that adorned his profession. To be continued in next edition.
==========================================================================================================
Spring and early summer 1940 were exciting weeks of endless sunshine. There was an air of eager expectancy, as day after day wooden structures were going up and day by day batches of recruits were arriving. Our Church hut, set back from the main road and propped on stilts, on a large area of concrete, gave a grandstand view of the vast expanse of the largest parade ground in Europe; classes everywhere, marching and drilling. Instructors using its speciousness to give splendid isolation since Gunnery and Seamanship do not mix. Around the deck, classes were grouped beside the long boats on their davots, around the capstans with chain lockers at the Foretop Mast, or heaving the line from Chain platforms, - ‘Swinging the Lead’ – a hive of activity Every day the marching was smarter and the young bodies fitter. It was a great sight, a contrast from the new arrivals meandering up the main road, suitcase laden, to be marched back later for the kitting up, with a semblance of order, under their appointed ‘Father Figure.’ These old CPO’s back from retirement, wielded a mellow but firm discipline. They had deferent respect for the cross section of young men drawn from all classes, trades and professions, primarily volunteers and willing conscripts, placed under their charge.
There was also the constant flow of traffic, builders’ lorries with materials for the metamorphosis, the rapidly changing pattern of wooden structures growing like mushroom clusters which rose out of the mud day after day.
Opposite and behind the Training Office, the small NAAFI canteen became a commodious building with anti-rooms, kitchens etc. Two thousand men and more accommodated in the main restaurant, all but dwarfing our small hut.
At the far side of the parade ground, the gun battery was completed in red brick and the Fxle Division was almost complete when the conveyor belt of wooden structures came to a halt. Wood was scarce. The lorries, however, kept up the stream of materials, bricks and cement, metal windows frames and roof trestles. The gun battery site completed, the bricklayers were ready to take over and the building continued of the Foretop Division. All was completed by mid-June.
One familiar figure passing up and down, was the young Scots architect in charge. He had invariably a rolled plan under his arm and swinging a yard stick, like the Commander’s cane. He was a frequent visitor at the Church hut at Stand-easy. One day he stood in the inner doorway, unfurled a plan and said ‘My firm have decided to make you a gift. We suggest that we build as an addition to the wooden structured Chapel an Altar area of hand made red brick, used for ecclesiastical interiors.’ We were justly proud of it. For some time I continued to use the Chapel for Communion and class lectures while the Cof E met in the large NAAFI anti-rooms over the way.
Over the years I saw senior Church of England chaplains come and go. Twice I resisted attempts of the far left theological opinion, with little aesthetic taste, to whitewash the back wall. Years afterwards I returned to find it a fait accomplish and was saddened to see the problem of discolourment subsequent chaplains had inherited. The mystics had had their way. It was austere, but a very beautiful background for the richly ornate Alter Cloth, which had been part of the Coronation Alter Furnishings procured by the Rev Hyde Gosling, who followed Padre Ryan.
Father Gosling, as his two junior chaplains called him, was an Anglo-Catholic of the extreme Cowley Order. He practised what he preached, a man of rare charm, and deeply spiritual. He used to make almost weekly trips to London gathering items of religious significance to adorn the Chapel. He invariably brought back some small gift of unobtainable sweet for my little daughter and call at our home for afternoon tea. He was very genuine although a little ingenious in this ritual but we loved him for it and respected his gentleness. It was so obvious that he needed these things to make the Sanctuary a place where he felt at home with his God. When he appeared with a large box of chocolates ‘For Madam’ our Wren found that Stations of the Cross around the walls. It was too good an opportunity to miss; I stood in the doorway, liked what I saw. It was so much in keeping with the season of Lent, unlike the gift for Madam, that I said in a voice that could be heard, ‘So this is where we have arrived we shall have to do something about this.’ Behind me came a tearful voice of a junior chaplain, destined one day to be a Bishop, ‘Father was afraid you would be angry and complain to the Commodore.’ Finding it difficult to keep a straight face I said ‘I would have to go higher than that, it is an Admiralty matter.’ Naturally I forgot all about it but after two days I realised that they were keeping out of my way, and went in to the office in the old cheerful way, to be met with the anxious question, ‘Have you heard from Admiralty yet?’ There was great relief when they found that it was a leg-pull, and a greater surprise to find that their subterfuge was not only noted but also quite unnecessary. In such a time of war it was our Christian duty to show an ecumenical front. I doubted whether they appreciated the meaning of the word.
I feel however that the gift of the building contractor to HMS Collingwood should be recorded and the aesthetic intention of the architect noticed. It was in keeping with ecclesiastical tradition and it was the Ship’s Chapel for all Denominations at the time.
June saw the completion of the originally planned Establishment. It was also a month of unseen events. New additions were made to the main purpose for which it had been built. The fall of France and the first strafing of enemy aircraft meant the end of our relaxed peaceful existence. The necessity to move all training from close proximity to the Dockyard and Harbour area, made the use of the vast area of unused ground within the perimeter a Must. Before Lt Cmdr Wright could complete his complement of trainees in the Foretop he had two calls upon his accommodation. He had to provide quarters for the Signals Section from RNB Portsmouth. The other was for a briefer period when it was used for an overflow of French personnel from the over crowded French ships that had fled French ports and were anchored on the harbour trot.
As Command UB Chaplain I was host to the protestant French Chaplain. On the Saturday of that week of upheaval and uncertainty I had accompanied him to a crowded Foretop gymnasium, of all the ships’ companies of the French ships. It was standing room only. I listened to speeches made by high ranking French Officers. The men were given three choices; Repatriation to France; Remaining for reforming as the Free French Navy; Join the Royal Navy to serve, if they wished, under an assumed English name. The officer who had given the rousing speech with gallic fervour, calling for a free French Navy to fight on, was asked what he intended to do. He replied lamely that he was going home. Amid angry clamour and shouting my friend turned away in disgust and said ‘That is why we lose the War, we have rottenness in high places.’ He joined the Royal Navy as Lieutenant Martin RN and became an undercover agent on routine visits to France, dropped and picked up by rendezvous by sea. Until his tragic death in 1942, he made regular visits to the home of Rev Owen Roebuck our Methodist Chaplain
The following week many who elected to go home were back as survivors of the SS Maknes, the rapatriation ship sunk off Le Havre by a German torpedo. Among them were the ship’s Captain, his wife and little girl, the French Diplomat Civil Servant and his wife. The men were easily kitted up, the women and child I took home to have the run of my wife’s wardrobe. They spent two days in our flat enjoying the seascape of Solent waters, but dreading the ordeal before them, to get home to what? I have often wondered. They were all repatriated the following day.
At the same time in the area east of the main gates a complete new section was rising with the same mushroom growth. To the starboard side a small self-contained unit was built with a parade ground, Mast and Quarter Deck, an essential for the first Company of Upper Yardmen, Regulars undergoing the gruelling Course for Officer Selection. Their CO was a ‘One off’, Commander ‘Tally Ho’ Nicolson RN, as he was affectionately called throughout the Service. As it suggests he ‘fronted’ as a crazy extravert, but behind it was a shrewd balanced mind. When his young Divisional Officer made an adverse report on a shy young 18 year old Scot, son of a hotelier in the Trossachs, who had joined HMS Caledonia because he was obsessed with the one ambition to be a sailor. It was his quiet voice and manner and his highland lilt that was mentioned adversely. To which ‘Tally Ho’ succinctly and prophetically replied ‘I disagree, that young fellow is going places.’ I was brought into the picture when I was asked to let him read lessons in Church. It was the assurance he needed, to stand before two thousand five hundred of his fellows every Sunday.
When the first course finished the Senior Division Officer Lt Comdr Blackley was given Command of HMS Brocklesby, with the young Scot, Sub Lt Gilchrist as his Navigating Officer and their first engagement was the Dieppe Road. To cover the recovery of the troops, the ship was held on the rising tide, against the steep shingle beach directly in front of the Casino, a strong German Artillery post. Sub Lt Gilchrist was on duty throughout the engagement on the top Bridge. The ship limped home, its upper casing riddled with light shellfire; there were several casualties. I went on board when they arrived. Blackley was deeply impressed by the bearing of young Gilchrist in the ordeal; not only his courage but also his accurate navigation assessment of the beach and tide. We talked it over and he decided that accelerated promotion was of greater importance so early in his career than any recommendation for bravery. It was his first rung of the ladder. Within a few years he was Captain D of a flotilla on the China Station and in my retirement he lived near me in Edinburgh, when he was Chief of Staff to Flag Officer Scotland. He died a year after retirement of a sudden heart attack, moving his garden. It was a strange coincidence that I should be nearby his wife and young family at the end of his Naval service and of a life that adorned his profession. To be continued in next edition.
==========================================================================================================
=========================================================================
Our Chairman's Report
JUST A WHITSUN WEEKEND LEAVE
I would imagine that the reader will say “Oh Yes?” when I explain, that an ordinary Whitsun Weekend leave from my ship H.M.S.Gambia in Rosyth, to my home in Leicester, brings in a fast army lorry ride, being given wrong train times by British Rail, a fog bound train, the filming of the film “Sink the Bismark” and much much more. Don’t believe me?
Well, sit back, pour yourself a Tot and read a story which I can hardly believe happened, but it did.
I had been deferred until I was twenty one to serve my two years National Service as I was completing a five year apprenticeship as a Marine Electrical Engineer. Come the age of twenty one and a bit, I was called up to do my stint in the Royal Navy. Almost all of the first year was served at H.M.S.Collingwood, the Royal Navy’s Radio, Radar and Electrical School at Fareham between Gosport and Fareham in Hampshire. Now a National Serviceman’s pay was not all that good so many of my off duty weekends were spent in Leicester thanks to ‘my Thumb’;
I hitch hiked. This was easy as the ‘Sailor Suit’ helped, ‘Hop in Jack. Where’re you going?’
I very soon developed the art of hitch hiking. For example, knowing where to stand so the drivers could see me and have time to pull in. Fortunately the roads were nowhere near as busy as they are now and also, no Motorways, so no restrictions on where I could stand and for the motorist to stop without having a dozen vehicles pile into the back of him.
So, Whitsun Weekend 1959, non duty watch had from 1600 on Friday to 0800 on the Tuesday. I was non duty. Did I want to spend three days on board in Rosyth Dockyard? No. Now as a National Serviceman I could not afford the fare from Rosyth to Leicester return. Couldn’t really afford it single, but using my experience in hitch hiking, I would look into hitching down on the Friday, but get the train back. Hitch hike from Rosyth to Leicester? Yes, well think about it! A very handy book to the hitch hiker was the A5 size book of maps supplied to members of the AA, and I had one! Work out the route. Calculate the mileage. Calculate the time it would take going on the average I had been making in the past of H.M.S.Collingwood to Leicester and return. Yes I used to hitch both ways. Average over many journeys = 25 MPH. Leave Rosyth at 16.00. MFV to Queensferry which is south of the Forth and make for the road. I calculated I would reach home in a little over 12 hours at 04.30 on Saturday morning.
When I started to get serious about this with the AA book of maps, pen and paper and calculations and I told my messmates, they thought I was mad. “You’ll get there in time to turn round and come back” was the most common.
Well I was going to have a go. And have a go I did, not knowing just what an adventure it was going to be.
As planned I left the ship with the first Liberty Men, got the MFV from Rosyth Dockyards across to Queensferry, I believe it was a Minesweeping Base if I remember correctly, and headed for a road south. The first lift came along quite quickly which took me into and out of Edinburgh and the A1. Now I don’t know where it was, somewhere up near Berwick upon Tweed and not very far into the journey, that I was standing, ‘thumb poised’ when an Army lorry came into view.
Army Lorries are not exactly “E-Type” Jags, so, sorry Pongoes, I turned my back and started to stroll along. Heart sank, it pulled up alongside me “Where you going Jack?” Now I knew the journey and I always asked for the next town. “Oh well it will help get me South” I thought. “OK Jack, hop up in the back, there’s some more in there”. Canvas backed lorry. Hardly Limmo!!
“Come on Jack let’s have your case” Smally Brown case and me were hoisted into the back.
Where are you going?” I was asked, again, told them the next town. I hardly had time to get comfortable on ‘something’ when we were off. You know how a Greyhound comes out of a trap? We beat all the rest of the traps. We were moving. ‘Bat out of Hell’ We were on a mission.
We are on weekend Leave and heading for Nottingham. How far are you going?” All of a sudden this was ideal. I was heading into and out of Nottingham on my way to Leicester, so when the Driver stopped at wherever it was I told him, I explained where I was going and settled down.
Nottingham arrived, or we arrived in Nottingham, not sure which because I settled down and the journey seemed very quick. Out onto the Leicester road and I soon picked up a lift, going right into Leicester. A Market man if I remember correctly. Superb. I lived on the outskirts of Leicester, on the City boundary on the road out to Lincolnshire. From the centre of Leicester to within 200 yards of home, another Market man and I was there. My calculations as to what time I would get home were not too bad. I put the key in the front door at 4.28 am. Yes, Saturday!
TWO MINUTES OUT!!!
Now we must get the journey home organised and I wasn’t trusting to my thumb. Let the train take the strain.
Later on during that Saturday my wife and I went to Leicester London Road Railway Station and asked for “Train times to get me to Inverkeithing Station before 08.00 on Tuesday” I must be on board by 08.00 because the ship was under sailing orders. The Clerk duly thumbed through all the timetable books and eventually presented me with a piece of paper with my connections. 19.53 from Leicester’s other Station, ‘Central’, change at Nottingham for the fast train to Edinburgh, then local train to Inverkeithing. All nice and easy. Relax and spend the rest of Saturday and then Sunday and Whit Monday at home.Come Monday Evening and we make our way to the Central Station. Plenty of time for the 19.53 when we arrived at about 19.35. “Single to Inverkeithing please’. Booking Clerk looks at me and asks, ‘Which way are you going?’ Pass the piece of paper with the train times across to him. He studies it, looks up and announces, ‘These are the Sunday times. Weekdays the train goes at 19.25. It’s gone’. “As I was here on time and the fact that these are British Rail times, can you sign my chit please? The Navy won’t believe me otherwise” and this was the first of many signatures and notes on this chit!!
So what now? I knew from experience that there was a later train to Edinburgh via Nottingham from London Road Station, but it left later and arrived later. I would be about half an hour adrift.
Train times confirmed and we made our way to London Road Station. I cannot remember the exact times, but it would leave somewhere around 22.00, maybe before, not worth going home so my wife went back home and I waited at the Station. Train came. Got on and we departed Leicester. This train met with the fast train from Kings Cross at Nottingham, leaving there at about 22.50, but not long into the journey we slowed down, stopped, started, slowed down, stopped etc much to the bewilderment of the passengers who must all be regulars because it didn’t normally do this. Someone found the answer ........ Fog. And so we arrived at Nottingham, late, and I missed the fast train to Edinburgh.
What time is the next one? 08.00 tomorrow.
Another signature on my little bit of paper!
So what now? About midnight and in Nottingham. Need to get to Edinburgh. Next train 8 hours away. Travelling time on the train and it would get me there by about 16.00 Tuesday afternoon!!
So I polished my thumb and hit the road again!! I don’t really remember much about the journey North except that once again I had some superb luck and lifts. A bit I do remember was one of the lifts. A serving RAF Officer who picked me up in his sports car! He too was willing to sign my chitty of paper to say I was at least trying!! Another part of the journey was being droppedoff in Gateshead. Now the problem was that I wanted the road north of Newcastle, I was way down south of this and whilst there was traffic about, it was local. Only one option, walk across that huge iron bridge and make for Newcastle. I do remember looking at my watch as I walked across that bridge 04.00. Never been across it since!! I had done more than half the journey in about 4 hours! A few more un-remembered lifts until the last one. A lorry. We were close enough to Edinburgh to explain I wanted Waverley Station. “Where are you heading?” ‘Rosyth Dockyard’, “Settle down, I will drop you at the gates, I will be going by them.”
I am afraid that this is where things didn’t quite work out due to my lack of knowledge and it was more ironic when I tell you we were in the vicinity of Edinburgh’s Waverley Station at about 08.00, good time or what? Of course in 1959 the Forth Road Bridge hadn’t been built so the lorry driver took me the long way round, up to the Kincardine Bridge and back to Dunfirmline and Rosyth. Duly dropping me off at the Dockyard Gates as promised at 12.30.
The Dockyard Police informed me that H.M.S.Gambia had sailed. “Where to and is she coming back here?”
‘Don’t know and don’t know. You had better join your mates in there’ and directed me to an inner room whereupon I met 4 more off H.M.S.Gambia who had missed the boat!!
Their story was simple. They had been ashore for a good night out in Edinburgh, stayed overnight in a Navy Club and when they were given a shake this morning, turned over and went back to sleep!! One of them was a Leading Hand so was put in charge of us. My worries or concerns were over. Let the Navy worry now.
To be continued !
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I would imagine that the reader will say “Oh Yes?” when I explain, that an ordinary Whitsun Weekend leave from my ship H.M.S.Gambia in Rosyth, to my home in Leicester, brings in a fast army lorry ride, being given wrong train times by British Rail, a fog bound train, the filming of the film “Sink the Bismark” and much much more. Don’t believe me?
Well, sit back, pour yourself a Tot and read a story which I can hardly believe happened, but it did.
I had been deferred until I was twenty one to serve my two years National Service as I was completing a five year apprenticeship as a Marine Electrical Engineer. Come the age of twenty one and a bit, I was called up to do my stint in the Royal Navy. Almost all of the first year was served at H.M.S.Collingwood, the Royal Navy’s Radio, Radar and Electrical School at Fareham between Gosport and Fareham in Hampshire. Now a National Serviceman’s pay was not all that good so many of my off duty weekends were spent in Leicester thanks to ‘my Thumb’;
I hitch hiked. This was easy as the ‘Sailor Suit’ helped, ‘Hop in Jack. Where’re you going?’
I very soon developed the art of hitch hiking. For example, knowing where to stand so the drivers could see me and have time to pull in. Fortunately the roads were nowhere near as busy as they are now and also, no Motorways, so no restrictions on where I could stand and for the motorist to stop without having a dozen vehicles pile into the back of him.
So, Whitsun Weekend 1959, non duty watch had from 1600 on Friday to 0800 on the Tuesday. I was non duty. Did I want to spend three days on board in Rosyth Dockyard? No. Now as a National Serviceman I could not afford the fare from Rosyth to Leicester return. Couldn’t really afford it single, but using my experience in hitch hiking, I would look into hitching down on the Friday, but get the train back. Hitch hike from Rosyth to Leicester? Yes, well think about it! A very handy book to the hitch hiker was the A5 size book of maps supplied to members of the AA, and I had one! Work out the route. Calculate the mileage. Calculate the time it would take going on the average I had been making in the past of H.M.S.Collingwood to Leicester and return. Yes I used to hitch both ways. Average over many journeys = 25 MPH. Leave Rosyth at 16.00. MFV to Queensferry which is south of the Forth and make for the road. I calculated I would reach home in a little over 12 hours at 04.30 on Saturday morning.
When I started to get serious about this with the AA book of maps, pen and paper and calculations and I told my messmates, they thought I was mad. “You’ll get there in time to turn round and come back” was the most common.
Well I was going to have a go. And have a go I did, not knowing just what an adventure it was going to be.
As planned I left the ship with the first Liberty Men, got the MFV from Rosyth Dockyards across to Queensferry, I believe it was a Minesweeping Base if I remember correctly, and headed for a road south. The first lift came along quite quickly which took me into and out of Edinburgh and the A1. Now I don’t know where it was, somewhere up near Berwick upon Tweed and not very far into the journey, that I was standing, ‘thumb poised’ when an Army lorry came into view.
Army Lorries are not exactly “E-Type” Jags, so, sorry Pongoes, I turned my back and started to stroll along. Heart sank, it pulled up alongside me “Where you going Jack?” Now I knew the journey and I always asked for the next town. “Oh well it will help get me South” I thought. “OK Jack, hop up in the back, there’s some more in there”. Canvas backed lorry. Hardly Limmo!!
“Come on Jack let’s have your case” Smally Brown case and me were hoisted into the back.
Where are you going?” I was asked, again, told them the next town. I hardly had time to get comfortable on ‘something’ when we were off. You know how a Greyhound comes out of a trap? We beat all the rest of the traps. We were moving. ‘Bat out of Hell’ We were on a mission.
We are on weekend Leave and heading for Nottingham. How far are you going?” All of a sudden this was ideal. I was heading into and out of Nottingham on my way to Leicester, so when the Driver stopped at wherever it was I told him, I explained where I was going and settled down.
Nottingham arrived, or we arrived in Nottingham, not sure which because I settled down and the journey seemed very quick. Out onto the Leicester road and I soon picked up a lift, going right into Leicester. A Market man if I remember correctly. Superb. I lived on the outskirts of Leicester, on the City boundary on the road out to Lincolnshire. From the centre of Leicester to within 200 yards of home, another Market man and I was there. My calculations as to what time I would get home were not too bad. I put the key in the front door at 4.28 am. Yes, Saturday!
TWO MINUTES OUT!!!
Now we must get the journey home organised and I wasn’t trusting to my thumb. Let the train take the strain.
Later on during that Saturday my wife and I went to Leicester London Road Railway Station and asked for “Train times to get me to Inverkeithing Station before 08.00 on Tuesday” I must be on board by 08.00 because the ship was under sailing orders. The Clerk duly thumbed through all the timetable books and eventually presented me with a piece of paper with my connections. 19.53 from Leicester’s other Station, ‘Central’, change at Nottingham for the fast train to Edinburgh, then local train to Inverkeithing. All nice and easy. Relax and spend the rest of Saturday and then Sunday and Whit Monday at home.Come Monday Evening and we make our way to the Central Station. Plenty of time for the 19.53 when we arrived at about 19.35. “Single to Inverkeithing please’. Booking Clerk looks at me and asks, ‘Which way are you going?’ Pass the piece of paper with the train times across to him. He studies it, looks up and announces, ‘These are the Sunday times. Weekdays the train goes at 19.25. It’s gone’. “As I was here on time and the fact that these are British Rail times, can you sign my chit please? The Navy won’t believe me otherwise” and this was the first of many signatures and notes on this chit!!
So what now? I knew from experience that there was a later train to Edinburgh via Nottingham from London Road Station, but it left later and arrived later. I would be about half an hour adrift.
Train times confirmed and we made our way to London Road Station. I cannot remember the exact times, but it would leave somewhere around 22.00, maybe before, not worth going home so my wife went back home and I waited at the Station. Train came. Got on and we departed Leicester. This train met with the fast train from Kings Cross at Nottingham, leaving there at about 22.50, but not long into the journey we slowed down, stopped, started, slowed down, stopped etc much to the bewilderment of the passengers who must all be regulars because it didn’t normally do this. Someone found the answer ........ Fog. And so we arrived at Nottingham, late, and I missed the fast train to Edinburgh.
What time is the next one? 08.00 tomorrow.
Another signature on my little bit of paper!
So what now? About midnight and in Nottingham. Need to get to Edinburgh. Next train 8 hours away. Travelling time on the train and it would get me there by about 16.00 Tuesday afternoon!!
So I polished my thumb and hit the road again!! I don’t really remember much about the journey North except that once again I had some superb luck and lifts. A bit I do remember was one of the lifts. A serving RAF Officer who picked me up in his sports car! He too was willing to sign my chitty of paper to say I was at least trying!! Another part of the journey was being droppedoff in Gateshead. Now the problem was that I wanted the road north of Newcastle, I was way down south of this and whilst there was traffic about, it was local. Only one option, walk across that huge iron bridge and make for Newcastle. I do remember looking at my watch as I walked across that bridge 04.00. Never been across it since!! I had done more than half the journey in about 4 hours! A few more un-remembered lifts until the last one. A lorry. We were close enough to Edinburgh to explain I wanted Waverley Station. “Where are you heading?” ‘Rosyth Dockyard’, “Settle down, I will drop you at the gates, I will be going by them.”
I am afraid that this is where things didn’t quite work out due to my lack of knowledge and it was more ironic when I tell you we were in the vicinity of Edinburgh’s Waverley Station at about 08.00, good time or what? Of course in 1959 the Forth Road Bridge hadn’t been built so the lorry driver took me the long way round, up to the Kincardine Bridge and back to Dunfirmline and Rosyth. Duly dropping me off at the Dockyard Gates as promised at 12.30.
The Dockyard Police informed me that H.M.S.Gambia had sailed. “Where to and is she coming back here?”
‘Don’t know and don’t know. You had better join your mates in there’ and directed me to an inner room whereupon I met 4 more off H.M.S.Gambia who had missed the boat!!
Their story was simple. They had been ashore for a good night out in Edinburgh, stayed overnight in a Navy Club and when they were given a shake this morning, turned over and went back to sleep!! One of them was a Leading Hand so was put in charge of us. My worries or concerns were over. Let the Navy worry now.
To be continued !
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SAFE AT HOME AT LAST
I've torn out my alarm system & de-registered from the Neighbourhood Watch.
I've got two Pakistani flags raised in my front garden, one at each corner
and the black flag of ISIS in the centre.
The local police, ASIO, ASIS and the other intelligence services are all watching my house 24/7.
I've never felt safer.
May your troubles be less, may your blessings be more, and
may happiness come through your door.
=====================================================================================
Bev Spencer - Pleased make your aquaintence
to spend Christmas in Singapore, New Year in Hong Kong. A visit toFreemantle then back to
Singapore to start the homeward journey via Beira, the Cape and Gibraltar, June 25th Chatham.
January 1970 HMS Collingwood teaching electronics and the use of close range sonar to electricians
from the RN and NATO Navies (German, Belgian, and French.)
August 1971 Assisting the Libyan navy with their new fast patrol ship LNS Dat Assawari. Eventually
arriving at Portland for full RN war conditions - everyone onboard, strange food Arab style.
Summer 1972 HMS London - Portsmouth refit.
Summer 1973 HMS Forrest Moor in charge of a watch at the communication centre.
September 17th 1975 HMS Nelson for discharge.
Start of teacher training course, my final day in the Royal Navy was spent as a student teaching mathematics at a comprehensive school in Kingston-upon-Hull.
=========================================================================================================
Singapore to start the homeward journey via Beira, the Cape and Gibraltar, June 25th Chatham.
January 1970 HMS Collingwood teaching electronics and the use of close range sonar to electricians
from the RN and NATO Navies (German, Belgian, and French.)
August 1971 Assisting the Libyan navy with their new fast patrol ship LNS Dat Assawari. Eventually
arriving at Portland for full RN war conditions - everyone onboard, strange food Arab style.
Summer 1972 HMS London - Portsmouth refit.
Summer 1973 HMS Forrest Moor in charge of a watch at the communication centre.
September 17th 1975 HMS Nelson for discharge.
Start of teacher training course, my final day in the Royal Navy was spent as a student teaching mathematics at a comprehensive school in Kingston-upon-Hull.
=========================================================================================================

Memories of Doug Newell - A Friend - by Mike Crowe
It is with great sorrow that I received the news that Dougie Newell had crossed the bar. Yes we have all go to go at some time or other, but Dougie will live on for Joan and me in a manner some may feel strange.
Yes of course I remember Dougie, as one of the originals in the H.M.S.Collingwood Association. I remember his correspondence; he had been the Standard Bearer somewhere else and would be proud to be our Standard Bearer.
And he was. The H.M.S.Collingwood Standard was blessed, (or should that be consecrated?) at no less a place than H.M.S.Collingwood itself. I can see him now coming down the main walkway in the Theatre to hand it over to the Chaplain for the Service.
But on a personal basis, apart from Dougie being a good friend and shipmate, unbeknown to him, he set my Grandson onto a chosen career. No he didn’t give him a pep talk, he didn’t tell him what a good life it was in the Andrew, in fact they never met and I doubt if Dougie knew about Lewis, but Dougie gave me some videos he had collected at some time or other, ‘just out of interest’.
Now at that time, Lewis was about 8 or 9 and we would play these videos to ‘Amuse him? Occupy his time?’ But by the time he was 9 he knew what he wanted to do. The videos were about the various parts/sections/branches of the Royal Marines. At 9 he knew he wanted to go into the Royal Marine Band Service as a Bugler and the Corps of Drums. He joined the School band as a Bugler. He joined Medina Marching Band, first as a Cornet player then Bugle and Corps of Drums. Then he applied to join the Royal Marine Band Service. He had to wait for selection which included a period when they would see if he was fit enough to be in the Royal Marine Band Service. He had to attend an interview during which it was explained to him that he would ‘have to march whilst playing the drums or blowing his Bugle’. He explained that as a member of Medina Marching Band, ‘he had done the Lord Mayor’s Show in London’.
Lewis is now 19 and has completed 2 years at the Royal Marine’s School of Music at Portsmouth. During those two years he has been to Downing Street to play with the Band and other venues. He has been to the Falkland Isles with one of the sections of the Band and the Corps of Drums ………… Dougie, if only you knew.
The picture? Lewis being presented with the ‘Premier Award for the best Military Side Drum performer’ at the Royal Marine’s School of Music in June this year!
Thank you Dougie from Joan and myself.
Best wishes
Mike
=======================================================================================================
It is with great sorrow that I received the news that Dougie Newell had crossed the bar. Yes we have all go to go at some time or other, but Dougie will live on for Joan and me in a manner some may feel strange.
Yes of course I remember Dougie, as one of the originals in the H.M.S.Collingwood Association. I remember his correspondence; he had been the Standard Bearer somewhere else and would be proud to be our Standard Bearer.
And he was. The H.M.S.Collingwood Standard was blessed, (or should that be consecrated?) at no less a place than H.M.S.Collingwood itself. I can see him now coming down the main walkway in the Theatre to hand it over to the Chaplain for the Service.
But on a personal basis, apart from Dougie being a good friend and shipmate, unbeknown to him, he set my Grandson onto a chosen career. No he didn’t give him a pep talk, he didn’t tell him what a good life it was in the Andrew, in fact they never met and I doubt if Dougie knew about Lewis, but Dougie gave me some videos he had collected at some time or other, ‘just out of interest’.
Now at that time, Lewis was about 8 or 9 and we would play these videos to ‘Amuse him? Occupy his time?’ But by the time he was 9 he knew what he wanted to do. The videos were about the various parts/sections/branches of the Royal Marines. At 9 he knew he wanted to go into the Royal Marine Band Service as a Bugler and the Corps of Drums. He joined the School band as a Bugler. He joined Medina Marching Band, first as a Cornet player then Bugle and Corps of Drums. Then he applied to join the Royal Marine Band Service. He had to wait for selection which included a period when they would see if he was fit enough to be in the Royal Marine Band Service. He had to attend an interview during which it was explained to him that he would ‘have to march whilst playing the drums or blowing his Bugle’. He explained that as a member of Medina Marching Band, ‘he had done the Lord Mayor’s Show in London’.
Lewis is now 19 and has completed 2 years at the Royal Marine’s School of Music at Portsmouth. During those two years he has been to Downing Street to play with the Band and other venues. He has been to the Falkland Isles with one of the sections of the Band and the Corps of Drums ………… Dougie, if only you knew.
The picture? Lewis being presented with the ‘Premier Award for the best Military Side Drum performer’ at the Royal Marine’s School of Music in June this year!
Thank you Dougie from Joan and myself.
Best wishes
Mike
=======================================================================================================
IMPORTANT NOTICE TO READERS IN THE UNITED KINGDOM
Do you purchase your copy of After the Battle from W H Smith?
From our next issue (No. 166), the newsagents W. H. Smith have stated that they will no longer be stocking After the Battle. From past experience, enquirers may well receive responses like: ‘Gone out of business’ or ‘magazine no longer published’ — none of which is the case.
After the Battle is being ‘de-listed’ by Smiths because we are not prepared to pay them the huge up-front annual payment that they are now demanding to access their shelves. This so-called ‘promotional fee’ would be on top of their normal trade discount. If we agreed, it would only increase the cost of the magazine while giving Smiths more profit, and also be grossly unfair to the independent newsagents who have supported us for many years and who will still continue to sell After the Battle.
If you currently purchase After the Battle from Smiths the answer is simple
Continue to receive After the Battle, and enjoy our adventures visiting battlefields around the world, by taking out a subscription which costs no more than purchasing the magazine in the shops. You can purchase an annual POST-FREE subscription for four issues in the UK for just £20 by telephoning us on 01279 41 8833, by post to After the Battle, The Mews, Hobbs Cross House, Hobbs Cross, Old Harlow, Essex CM17 0NN, or via this website.
And there is also now the option to purchase a digital copy by downloading for Android or Apple. See below for more details.
Just looked at the web site. These books look interesting and may suit our members. Roger
==========================================================================================================
Do you purchase your copy of After the Battle from W H Smith?
From our next issue (No. 166), the newsagents W. H. Smith have stated that they will no longer be stocking After the Battle. From past experience, enquirers may well receive responses like: ‘Gone out of business’ or ‘magazine no longer published’ — none of which is the case.
After the Battle is being ‘de-listed’ by Smiths because we are not prepared to pay them the huge up-front annual payment that they are now demanding to access their shelves. This so-called ‘promotional fee’ would be on top of their normal trade discount. If we agreed, it would only increase the cost of the magazine while giving Smiths more profit, and also be grossly unfair to the independent newsagents who have supported us for many years and who will still continue to sell After the Battle.
If you currently purchase After the Battle from Smiths the answer is simple
Continue to receive After the Battle, and enjoy our adventures visiting battlefields around the world, by taking out a subscription which costs no more than purchasing the magazine in the shops. You can purchase an annual POST-FREE subscription for four issues in the UK for just £20 by telephoning us on 01279 41 8833, by post to After the Battle, The Mews, Hobbs Cross House, Hobbs Cross, Old Harlow, Essex CM17 0NN, or via this website.
And there is also now the option to purchase a digital copy by downloading for Android or Apple. See below for more details.
Just looked at the web site. These books look interesting and may suit our members. Roger
==========================================================================================================
Life just gets better as you get older, doesn’t it?
I was in a coffee shop recently when my stomach started rumbling and I realised that I desperately needed to fart.
The place was packed but the music was really loud so, to get relief and reduce embarrassment, I timed my farts to the beat of the music.
After a couple of songs I started to feel much better.
I finished my coffee and noticed that everyone was staring at me.
Then I suddenly remembered that I was listening to my IPod.
This is what happens when senior citizens use technology
==========================================================================================================
I was in a coffee shop recently when my stomach started rumbling and I realised that I desperately needed to fart.
The place was packed but the music was really loud so, to get relief and reduce embarrassment, I timed my farts to the beat of the music.
After a couple of songs I started to feel much better.
I finished my coffee and noticed that everyone was staring at me.
Then I suddenly remembered that I was listening to my IPod.
This is what happens when senior citizens use technology
==========================================================================================================

It had been a terrible year for Santa.
The gnomes had been on strike for 6 months demanding higher wages, and Santa had to manufacture most of the toys on his own.
His secretary had run off with Jack Frost and so he also had to deal with all the Christmas letters from children.
Mrs. Claus was divorcing him on the grounds of never seeing him.
Rudolph’s nose had gone out and the other reindeer had foot and mouth.
This caused him to come down with stress and the knock at the door was the final straw.
When he opened it there was a fairy who said “Hi Santa, where do you want me to put the tree?”
And that shipmates, is why we have a fairy on top of the tree.!!!
==========================================================================================================
The gnomes had been on strike for 6 months demanding higher wages, and Santa had to manufacture most of the toys on his own.
His secretary had run off with Jack Frost and so he also had to deal with all the Christmas letters from children.
Mrs. Claus was divorcing him on the grounds of never seeing him.
Rudolph’s nose had gone out and the other reindeer had foot and mouth.
This caused him to come down with stress and the knock at the door was the final straw.
When he opened it there was a fairy who said “Hi Santa, where do you want me to put the tree?”
And that shipmates, is why we have a fairy on top of the tree.!!!
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A VERY MERRY CRIMBO AND A HAPPY AND HEALTHY NEW YEAR TO YOU AND YOURS !
WE WILL HAVE ANOTHER EDITION IN THE NEW YEAR - SEND INPUT FOR IT !!!
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WE WILL HAVE ANOTHER EDITION IN THE NEW YEAR - SEND INPUT FOR IT !!!
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