From Snotty to Sub

by Wolston B. C. W. Forester

About an hour later the dawn broke grey and dismal, and I could just distinguish the faint line of the French coast.... Our mission accomplished, we set our helm hard aport and proceeded to batter our way back to Portsmouth with wind and sea full in our faces.

At 8.30 A.M. the Gunner again relieved us, and we went down to the wardroom in search of breakfast. Here, amid a mad medley of cutlery, crockery, and cruets, we found a nasty-looking piece of cold bacon skidding giddily over the table in company with a loathly-looking loaf of bread. Presently the steward appeared juggling with two brimming cups of tea, and strenuously endeavouring to keep his balance on the swaying deck. With pardonable triumph at having brought them from the pantry without upsetting them, he placed the cups on the table, where they added to the general confusion by promptly slopping their contents over everything.

In order to avoid being shot off our chairs we had to hang on with one hand while we tried to feed ourselves with the other. I had quite an exciting time trying to spear pieces of bacon with a fork, my plate always sliding away to the other side of the table at the crucial moment! In the end I became quite an expert at the job, and managed to consume really a considerable amount. (N.B. Try our new parlour-game: "Pig-Sticking" on a destroyer in mid-Channel!) Fortunately for me, I am what is known as a "good sailor," and have never yet experienced the miseries of seasickness. What service in small craft must mean for those with less tractable tummies I shudder to think.

We sighted the Isle of Wight about 3 P.M. and were congratulating ourselves on the fact that within an hour and a half we should be safely berthed in Portsmouth, and with any luck would get a night in, as the ship had been running exceptionally hard for a week past.... But our congratulations were premature, for when we drew near our objective we received a signal ordering us to anchor as convenient and await the arrival of another "P." boat which was bringing us our sailing orders. This meant that yet another night's work was before us. So, having anchored in accordance with instructions, we promptly turned in to try and get some sleep before we had to again proceed to sea.

Our sailing orders arrived about two hours later, and their purport proved particularly annoying for both M—— and me, for it meant that he would be detained on the ship for another thirty-six hours or so, and for the like period I should still be without my clothes, etc. It will be remembered that I had had to come away without my gear, which was still at Portsmouth. However, we had to make the best of it.

We got under way at about 8 P.M., did our job, and after an uneventful trip returned to our base, and finally secured alongside Boat House Jetty at 10 A.M. on a Sunday morning.

The other Sub. went off immediately to take up his new appointment, and I very thankfully collected my belongings.

It was about 3.30 on that afternoon when we learned that we were required to take the place of a T.B. which had unexpectedly been forced to dock, and in company with another patrol-boat execute certain orders. The T.B. we were replacing was down to remain at the destination whither we were bound over Monday, but as we were due to commence our periodical boiler-cleaning that morning, our Captain made a signal to Captain "D." asking if we were to remain at the place in question in accordance with these sailing orders, or to return to Portsmouth as per schedule. His reply was that we were to return.

We left harbour at 4 P.M., and in a howling gale dropped anchor at the spot indicated in our instructions. Very soon we found that one anchor would not hold—we had already dragged about half a mile—and I had to go up on to the fo'c'sle and superintend the letting go of another....