From Snotty to Sub

by Wolston B. C. W. Forester

We could not forgo this much-prized opportunity for exercise and recreation, but once it was over we settled down in grim earnest to "swot" at the subjects referred to, and thenceforward our highly technical conversation and absorption in abstruse problems became a source of unmitigated boredom to those of our messmates whose horizon, by reason of their shorter service, was as yet unclouded by the prospect of such an ordeal as loomed upon ours.

Now, in peace-time, in order to "ship one's stripe" it is only necessary to pass an oral examination in navigation, and an oral and written examination in seamanship. This accomplished, the newly fledged Acting Sub. automatically retires to the "beach," where he passes through gunnery, navigation, and torpedo schools undistracted by any of the executive duties of shipboard life, and able to concentrate his whole attention on each subject in turn. How beautifully simple! But in time of war it is a very different proposition. A Midshipman having served his full term in that rank must pass both oral and written exams. in all five subjects, and his hours of study may by no means be allowed to interfere with executive routine. In other words, he must snatch them how and where he can.

Naturally this involves a considerable strain, and much burning of midnight oil.

It may also be noted that to a Snotty the luxury of solitude and silence is unknown, for he sleeps in a hammock in an echoing steel-walled flat, has no cabin to retire to, and his only study is the gunroom, which he shares with some fifteen or twenty boisterous "young gentlemen."... The gramophone may be in full blast—stewards bustle about with materials for meals—messengers hurry back and forth—and in this uneasy atmosphere he must learn to concentrate on the highly difficult tasks before him. Well, it must require, as our American Allies would say, some concentration!

About the middle of June our Admiral and his staff were transferred to other scenes of activity, and to our great regret the Admiral took in his train, as Flag Lieutenant, L. F., best of Subs., who had been our gunroom leader for two years.

On the day following this exodus—in a dismal drizzle of rain—we were all lined up on the quarter-deck awaiting the arrival of our new Chief. Presently the barge was seen approaching, and we congratulated ourselves on the fact that the reception ceremony would soon be over and we would be able to return to the shelter of the gunroom. But as the barge drew nearer we saw that she was flying the "negative," which indicates that the Admiral is not on board. This was unexpected, but the comment passed round that in all probability the crew of the boat had forgotten to ship the "affirmative." Perhaps we should here mention that the "negative" is—in fact—a flag used in the naval signal code, but in the case of an Admiral's barge it consists of a round painted disc having on one side the same markings as the "affirmative," and on the other those of the "negative" flag. This disc is shipped in a small bracket on the foremost side of the funnel, with the object of indicating to officers of the watches, etc., that the Admiral is on board, so that they may be prepared to pay the proper marks of respect as he passes the ships.

However, there was in this case no forgetfulness on the part of the crew, for as the barge drew alongside it proved to be conveying only Admiral ——'s steward, in charge of his luggage and furniture. These safely deposited on board, the barge shoved off again and departed ... presumably to fetch the Admiral.

Still we waited. Still the rain drifted down from leaden unsummer-like sky to leaden unsummery sea.... Then a dingy picket-boat was seen to be coming alongside. More furniture? More luggage? we queried wearily.... But, no! To our infinite astonishment, out stepped the Admiral himself, unattended by Flag Lieutenant or Secretary, and shaking hands with the Captain he went forward to his quarters.

The Commander passed the word for all officers to proceed to the Admiral's lobby, and there we waited until one by one, in order of seniority, we were called into his cabin and presented. We juniors of course came last, and on our return to the gunroom there was much speculation as to what the Admiral would do for a Secretary and Flag Lieutenant. Presently the Captain sent for C——, one of our mess, and to our amazement he returned shortly afterwards with the announcement that until the Flag Lieutenant arrived he had been ordered to perform the customary duties of that officer! Realizing that he was somewhat deficient in knowledge of the necessary routine, C—— promptly sent for the Yeoman of Signals and demanded instruction. Thereafter, and during his tenure of office, the gunroom was fairly littered with signal-pads, signals, and confidential books; and he was excused all other duties by the Snotties' Nurse (i.e. the officer—usually the Navigator—told off for the general supervision of Midshipmen).

When on the following Sunday the Admiral, on a tour of inspection, arrived aboard the other ships, accompanied by a Snotty, duly equipped with telescope and signal pad, to act as Flag Lieutenant, the surprise of the Captains and officers of the division may be better imagined than described!