Who called the cook a C**t? Who called the C**t a cook???

And so the day after my passing out parade at Raleigh I was shipped onto a bus bound for Chatham on the Medway estuary in Kent to commence my 9 weeks of cookery training. OK let's get all the old ones out of the way now!! "It must be the hardest course in the Navy cos no body has ever passed !!!" "Who called the cook a cunt? Who called the cunt a cook?" Yes yes heard em a million times before!!

Anyway whist we were crossing the counties of the south west we pulled into RNAS Yeovilton for our lunch. Having only seen the delights in Traf Galley at Raleigh up to this point it was a refreshing change and I was assured that there was no Bromide in the tea here.

Back on the open road the world was our oyster and we duly arrived at the Main Gate of HMS Pembroke and the infamous Terrace Road. We had been forewarned about the training accommodation at East Camp within the establishment however 20 or so of us did not bank on being the overflow party and having to live in the dilapidated older Junior Rates accommodation in Mountbatten Block with its hot and cold running water (Mainly down the walls) and broken windows and bunk beds straight out of Colditz. To cap it all when we mustered to be classed up we were told that there were too many trainees, not enough instructors and kitchen classrooms and that we would be 'Work Ship' Party for the next 3 weeks until the next class completed Part 3 (Cookery) training. Work Ship involved lots of gutter clearing, leaf sweeping, gash ditching and the like and was absolutely not why I was there. Anyway eventually the 3 weeks passed and I started week one of the course under the watchful and experienced (and scary) Dave Avery; an old and bold CPO Cook with many years service under his belt. Not even 3 days in and I was struck down with tonsillitis, had to report to the Sick Bay (Have you seen One Flew over the Cuckoos Nest??) and was back classed a week in to POCK Trevor 'Paul' Newman's class.

My Part 3 Training had now commenced for real and we were quickly into preparing salads, stocks, soups and sauces, vegetable and potato dishes, meat, fish and veg delicacies, pastry and bakery items. Then one day we were sat down and told to make notes on the Gaco Mini Dairy - a space age mechanism that was used for making perfect milk from Milk Powder.

Funny how the thing I remember most is an the method we were taught for remembering Ice Cream Machine sterilising agent called BHC 318 - Big Hairy Cunt 318 - it still makes me laugh now!!!

We undertook weekly phase tests both practical and theory and all of a sudden the 9 weeks was up we had passed our final tests (bar a few re scrubs) and we were given our Part 4 Drafts - mine was HMS Caledonia in Rosyth Scotland and to say I was a little nervous was understatement of the century. But....before we were to join our establishments for Part 4 training we had an extended weekend and 2 weeks on HMS Kent in Portsmouth (A Harbour Training Ship) to look forward to....this was the end of Feb 1981...

6 Weeks Basic

Week one in the New Entry block and we were issued our kit and an official service number which I will always have emblazoned on my memory - D187666C, told to shave whether we needed to or not, taught to 'bull' (spit and polish to a high sheen) our boots after being told by the New Entry Chief Petty Officer 'I wanna be able to see my face in those!' and iron kit and then fold it into the size of our Seamanship Hand Book (smaller than A4 Paper). This was our new life and our home for the first week. Here I was also exposed to the fine cigarettes available at Duty Free prices only to Royal Naval personnel - they were called Blue Liners and sadly they did not last as long as I did in the Senior Service.

Once the initial shock of getting up in the middle of the night (05:30) and having people shout at us and make us run up and down in step etc etc had sunk in we were then introduced to the delights of 'Clean Ship' - basically cleaning everything that did not move for inspection during evening rounds. This was all to prepare us for the next 5 weeks in Part 2 Training where we would 'Clean Ship', square bash, assault course, fire real live big dangerous rifles, be gassed in a chamber, partake in the RN swimming test and circuit training, climb ropes, run about, wash, iron and fold kit, 'Bull' our parade boots and shoes and polish beret badges and generally be introduced to the pomp and ceremony of Naval life while earning a meagre 40 GBP per fortnight.

To collect our pay we had to go on pay parade, where a select few (usually me) would be picked up by the 'Joss' (Jack Speak - Master at Arms; Regulating Branch equivalent to Chief Petty Officer rate) for poor kit upkeep and long hair and 'Chop one off' (Jack Speak - salute) to the pay officer whilst shouting the last 3 digits and the letter at the end of our official service numbers - commonly known as our Ship's book number.

So the subsequent 5 weeks flew with all the above being undertaken, passed, achieved and boys becoming men, and all that George, culminating in a passing out parade in late October 1980 with 9 weeks cookery training looming over the horizon at the Royal Navy Cookery School, HMS Pembroke in Chatham, Kent. The Passing Out was the first time I had seen my family for the 6 weeks since I left home on 22 Sep and it had seemed like an eternity - nothing though compared to the 8-9 month seagoing deployments I had to look forward to but knew nothing about at that infantile stage of my career. Also little did I know that, less than 2 years after completing 6 weeks Basic Training, Britain would be involved in the biggest conflict involving the Royal Navy since the end of World War 2...