The undermentioned is an article about an incident that occurred on board the aircraft carrier HMS Warrior, on which I had hitched a lift home to England after taking part in the Christmas Island nuclear test programme of 1957. 

Good evening ladies and gentlemen.

First of all, thank you for inviting me to your annual HMS Warrior gathering at Llandudno. My name is Terry and I have been asked to say a few words as to how I came to be at this meeting, and to explain my connection to HMS Warrior. 

On the 12^th June last year, I was attending the Weymouth Military and Veterans’ Festival. After the parade, I was talking to some of the BNTVA members, of whom were Derek Redfern and Terry Washington, and Terry happened to mention that he was stationed at Christmas Island in 1957 during ‘Operation Grapple’ at the same time as me. I was an RAF Supplier in the aircraft technical stores. 

I thought you may be interested to hear how I came to join the HMS Warrior, and about some of my experiences on board. 

Towards the end of my stay on Christmas Island in August 1957, there appeared on our SRO, a notice asking for volunteers from the Army and RAF personnel to join HMS Warrior on her return passage home to Portsmouth via South America. I returned to my tent later that evening, chewing over in my mind whether or not to apply for this trip home with the Royal Navy. Remembering that old military saying, ‘never volunteer for anything in the forces’, but purely with a selfish motive, I decided in this instance, that there were more gains than losses to be had, with one of the advantages being that I would leave Christmas Island two months earlier than my repatriation, and, secondly, I would have a trip around South America, the Falkland Islands, Gibraltar, and I finally arrive in Portsmouth on 11 October 1957. I realised that this was a once in a lifetime chance of me being offered a trip like this. 

I was not fully aware of how I would cope serving in the Senior Service, and was more than a little apprehensive about how I would fit into the Navy life and come up to their expectations. I had no idea about what duties I would be expected to carry out on board Her Majesty’s ship. However, the next morning, I reported to our orderly room and put in my application, hoping I would be lucky enough to be picked for this trip home. 

It was late August or early September 1957, that I arrived to join HMS Warrior. I reported to the MT section and had transport to Port London area, and about 100 of us boarded an LCM which took us out to HMS Warrior. My first impression in seeing this great, grey hulk sitting there in the blue sea, was, what an ugly monster. I suppose I was looking for a ‘welcome aboard’ sign, but what really upset me was that I realised that I had forgotten to bring my ‘Brylcreem’ with me (ha ha!). 

I soon cheered up because I realised that any accommodation on board would be better than the bell-tent I had lived in for 10 months. Once on board, there was a welcoming committee to show us the ropes, and to allocate us our respective messes. Once again, I was lucky because I was billeted in the Royal Marines Band mess, and was handed over to the leading Killick of the mess, who explained the Navy procedures and regulations that I was expected to obey and carry out. I realised that life in the Navy was a lot different to the RAF, with more discipline involved. 

My first problem to overcome was putting up and sleeping in a hammock. This apparatus took us new boys some time to master, but we did manage to give the matelots something to laugh about. Once we had mastered the trick of putting the thing up properly, and inserting the sticks either end, the problem was solved, and I found it to be one of the most comfortable forms of sleep. After a few days, we picked up the gist of life at sea and the routine. I just listened and did what I was told. I tried to carry out my duties to the best of my ability, because I didn’t want to be put on a charge and punished with loss of shore leave. I had to remember the reason behind volunteering for this trip, which was to see the world, so had to try and keep a clean sheet. It didn’t always work. 

I can clearly remember on one occasion when the ship was berthed at Montevideo, and I crossed swords with the Master of Arms – a person not to upset on any account. 

One evening, I was detailed to report for duty as an extra Navy police patrol. I was put on security duties. Late into the night, I was put on the returning gangplank duties, which was to check the returning crew to make sure they didn’t bring drink aboard, and that they were sober enough to climb the ladder unaided without causing any trouble. They also had to pick up their correct boarding cards.  Two Stoker Ratings started to cause a disturbance at the top of the gangplank; I went towards them to try and sort out the problem, and another one went behind me and grabbed a handful of identity cards, and scarpered with them. This meant we didn’t know who was ashore and who was on board without a full roll call. On the appearance at the scene of the Master of Arms, the finger of suspicion was pointed at me, and not long after the security incident, I was relieved of my police duties. Sometime later, the Master of Arms sent for me. He said that he had found the culprits responsible, and wanted me to go down to an identification parade and pick them out. 

I walked up and down the line, but could not be 100% sure, as the lights on the gangway were very dull. I told the Master of Arms, and he told me to have another go, and if I didn’t pick them out, I would be up in front of the Captain the next day. 

So, that is how I found myself in the Captain’s cabin, listening to charges being read out against Corporal Brown RAF. One of the charges I seemed to remember was for dereliction of duty... The Captain then asked me what I had to say in my defence. I told him that, in my opinion, I could not be expected to carry out the duties I had been given that night - I had been given no instruction of Navy procedures at sea, not even fire drill or life stations. No instruction on the four cards watch system that was used on Her Majesty’s ships, no details on Navy rank or uniforms. In fact, I was a complete novice, and, in no way, without training, could I have been expected to carry out the duties I had been given. The Captain agreed with this, and dismissed all charges against me. 

The Master of Arms was not happy about this result. He said to me, after being marched out of the Captain’s cabin, “Brown, I will be keeping a beady eye on you for the rest of the trip, and if you step out of line, I will come down on you hard”. The stokers were cleared of any charges, as far as I can remember. 

Another incident that comes to mind, is of an airman called Sam Musgrove, who, when the ship was docked at Montevideo, jumped from the bows of the carrier and swam to some steps leading to the dockside, and into the arms of some Argentinian girlfriend that he knew previously from the last stop in Buenos Aires. However, their encounter was short-lived, because soon arriving on the loving scene were two Navy police personnel who kindly escorted him back to the ship, where he was confined for the rest of the cruise. 

On many occasions, the RAF lads gave the sailors a reason to have a laugh at our behaviour and lack of seamanship. I recall one such occasion when we docked at Port Stanley in the Falkland Islands. We asked the Lieutenant Commander to be issued with protective clothing against the cold weather, and also some leather gloves to protect our hands when handling the hawser on the mooring. Needless to say, he gave us a short and sharp reply. Sometimes we did find it difficult to understand some of the Navy’s terminology. 

When I look back over 49 years ago now, and on my journey home from Christmas Island with the Royal Navy, it brings back very happy memories of life on board one of Her Majesty’s ships. I like to think that, in the small way we did contribute to help make the journey successful, as our government did manage to sell the Warrior to the Argentinian government. So, all my painting to cover up the rust seems to have done the trick. 

Some of my proudest memories were when we lined the decks on entering foreign ports; it always brought a lump to my throat, and I felt proud to be British. I also had the same feeling when joining the ship’s company in marching through various cities, during our South American tour. We marched through their cities with the marine band playing to their Cenotaph to lay a wreath on the unnamed fallen comrades, and then on to the Saluting Dais with all the local dignitaries. 

I was very lucky because last March I re-visited Rio de Janeiro and stayed a couple of days, then caught the cruise liner back to Blighty, covering some of the same seaways that we crossed 49 years before. Needless to say, a lot of old memories came flooding back of my first cruise on the HMS Warrior. 

I must thank the Royal Navy for giving me sea legs, and my first taste and love of the sea, which, to this day I have not lost. This has been responsible for so many other sea adventures I have had since. 

Terry Seymour Brown

Ex RAF Sergeant Brown, ex HMS Warrior, ex BNTVA.