IV.
Christmas came and went; but, though the ship's company made a point of keeping up the time-honoured traditions and customs, things were hardly the same as usual. They did not suffer from lack of seasonable fare, for volleys of plum-puddings and other comestibles from home had temporarily superseded the deluge of mufflers, mittens, and cigarettes; while the canteen did a roaring trade in turkeys, geese, boiled hams, fruit, holly, and chains of coloured paper for decorations.
On the morning of the 25th itself the squadron happened to be in harbour, and at daylight the Belligerent and every other ship appeared with the customary branches of fir and evergreen lashed to the mastheads and the yardarms.
At eight o'clock came a signal from the vice-admiral wishing all the officers and men under his command 'A Happy Christmas;' and at divisions at nine-thirty the officers took the opportunity of saying the same.
Then came church and the issue of Princess Mary's gifts; and if the donors to the fund could have seen the way these gilt boxes, with their cards, pipes, packets of tobacco, and cigarettes, were appreciated by their recipients they would have felt that their generosity had been repaid. A gift was always a gift and something to be appreciated, but a gift from a Royal Princess was to be treasured as an heirloom. As a consequence, the greater number of the men sent their boxes home by registered post without smoking the contents. They were far too valuable to be kept on board when there was a chance of the ship being torpedoed by a hostile submarine or sunk by a mine.
Shortly before noon the band assembled outside the captain's cabin, and as eight bells struck, Captain Spencer, preceded by the musicians playing 'The Roast Beef of Old England' and the 'funny party' with blackened faces and attired in a variety of strange costumes, and followed by a procession of all the officers, made the usual tour of the mess-deck. Some of the messes were embellished with festoons of paper chains, sprigs and bunches of holly and mistletoe, and home-made mottoes. Others were hardly decorated at all, but all the tables were well laden with food. At the foot of each mess stood a man with a plate of cake, pastry, or pudding, which he offered to all the officers in turn as they passed by. Every one of them took a small piece, wished the occupants of the mess 'A Happy Christmas,' nibbled the cake or whatever it was, and then hastily secreted the remains in his pocket. There were several dozen messes to be visited, and a few ounces of stodgy cake from each of them would provide more than enough for a schoolboy.
Opposite one of the chief petty officers' messes the procession came to a halt close to a blackboard on which was chalked in large letters:
'The Ship's Company of H.M.S. Belligerent wish Captain Spencer and the officers a very happy Christmas and a bright and joyful New Year. They deeply regret that up to the present Captain Spencer has not had the opportunity of taking them into action, but are anxiously awaiting the time when he will.'
The captain smiled, took the proffered chalk, and made his reply.
'The same to you,' he wrote. 'Captain Spencer will be only too pleased to take the ship into action whenever the enemy give him the chance. When the time comes he and the officers know that they may rely on the "Belligerents" to give a good account of themselves. Let 'em all come!'
Loud and prolonged cheering before the procession moved on.
It took fully half-an-hour to do the whole round of the messes; but at last the officers disappeared to their own lunch, and left the men to go on with their meal. They acquitted themselves nobly.
Soon after lunch, when Tickle had retired to his cabin and was composing himself for his usual afternoon slumber, there came a knock at his door. 'Well, what is it?' he inquired lazily.
'It's me, sir,' said Petty Officer Casey, insinuating his head through the curtain. 'The foc's'lemen sends their compliments, sir, an' would yer be so kind as to visit 'em in their messes for a few minutes?'
Tickle yawned, hoisted himself out of his bunk, and stepped outside. Here he was promptly seized by four stalwart A.B.'s, hoisted shoulder-high, and, with a man in front playing triumphantly upon a mouth-organ, was carried off. Down ladders and up ladders they went, through cheering crowds on the mess-deck, until they finally allowed him to slide gracefully to earth among the men of his own forecastle division.
They proceeded to drink his health in navy rum, a compliment which he was bound to return; but even then the ordeal was not over.
'They'd like yer to say a few words, sir,' Petty Officer Casey prompted him hoarsely.
Tickle cleared his throat nervously. 'I'm not much of a hand at making a speech,' he began; 'but I'm very glad to come here and wish you all a happy Christmas again. From what I can see'—he looked round the tables—'you all seem to have been enjoying yourselves. My only regret—our only regret, I should say—is that we haven't had a chance of meeting the enemy yet; but that's a pleasure we all look forward to'——
Here he was interrupted by loud cheers and bangings on the tables.
'It's quite unnecessary for me to tell you that I know the Belligerent will do jolly well when the time comes, and that the men of the forecastle division will do better than any one else'——
Loud cries of ''Ear, 'ear!' and more shouting.
'I've clean forgotten what I was going to say,' he went on, laughing. 'Oh yes. I'm sure the forecastlemen will do better than any one else when it comes to a scrap; but don't get down-hearted if we have to wait for some time before we get it. Other ships have had a run for their money, and we haven't; but we're all doing our bit for the country, and it's up to us to do our duty wherever the Admiralty choose to send us. At the same time, I hope the war will not be over before we have our look in. Well,' he concluded, 'I don't think there is anything else I can say, except to wish you all the best of luck.' He lifted the fanny[ [30] to his lips and sipped its contents.
'An' th' same to you, sir!' came a roar. 'Three cheers for Lootenant Tickle!'
'One more, boys!' somebody yelled excitedly. 'Hip, hip, hip, hurrah!'
Tickle, feeling very awkward and red in the face, bowed his acknowledgments. 'Thank you very much indeed,' he said quietly. He could not express his feelings in mere words.
The Belligerent was a happy ship, and the officers were popular with their men, and many of them, including the commander, the engineer-commander, all the officers of divisions, captain of marines, and most of the midshipmen and warrant-officers, were ruthlessly dragged from their afternoon slumber and carried forward to the mess-decks to make speeches. Christmas, the time of good-fellowship and goodwill, only came once a year, but it was one of the rare occasions when the men were able to show their officers what they really thought of them.
So, taking it all round, they managed to enjoy themselves, for bluejackets always succeed in being cheerful under any circumstances; but nobody could help having a feeling at the back of his mind that this particular Christmas was not quite the same as others, as indeed it was not. They were thinking of their homes and of what was happening there, and many of them, officers as well as men, had not set foot on shore for weeks—months, in some cases.
Boxing Day found the squadron at sea.