H.M.S. Ramillies Reunion
By the Late Geordie Gavin.
They came to Blackpool
From the North, South, East and West.
Each with Campaign Ribbons pinned to his chest
Alas, they were but few of the Mighty Ramillies fighting crew.
Fifty years had passed and gone
And with all their combat duties done,
The Crew dispersed, each going their several ways
To live in Peace for the rest of their days.
Nothing could possibly erase
Memories of those Wartime days.
Those glorious boozy runs ashore
Fun and frolics with maidens galore.
There was of course the serious side
With Shell, Torpedo, Mine and Bomb
From which at sea, no man could hide
This was endured with great aplomb.
All knew the famous Maori Skirt
Would shield them from all harm.
So long as the Skipper was with it girt
It really was their Lucky Charm.
Though the Ship did not escape attack
In Madagascar Jap Torpedoes scored a hit
Her shell plates received a mighty smack
And more than one was buckled and split.
But the Magic of the Skirt prevailed
Tho' in it's case it did remain.
To sink her those Tin Fish failed
And Ramillies lived to fight again.
Off the Dockyard the Old Girl went
To bung up the holes and Iron out the dent
For the Crew some leave was granted
Just what Jolly Jack Tar wanted.
All too soon with repairs completed
Back to sea Ramillies had to go
Where she remained till the Hun was defeated,
Before that, many a Tide was to ebb and flow.
Aboard, hearts were broken, Ashore, maidens did grieve
When Durban's White Lady her Goodbye she sang.
Sadly the Ship's Props a wide wake did leave
Eight was the tjime the Ship's Bell rang.
Then to Mombassa She made her stately way
To take on more crew and a few weeks to stay.
With other Warships at anchor She lay
But all too soon came sailing day.
Into the Indian Ocean She glided
With her Bows pointing North
Her destination yet undecided
While on the Messdeck, Buzz gave forth.
With Paravanes streaming a Zig Zag course was set
No Bombs, or Subs, or Mines were met.
Silently She sailed on over the Lines
No Neptune's Court was held this time.
Our next Port of call was Aden
Ashore we went, the sights for to see.
We could have saved ourselves the trouble
A shambles this trip turned out to be.
Through the Red Sea we then progressed
To the Port of Tewfick's N.A.A.F.I. Canteen
Where we hoped to buy some beer
With the little cash we then possessed.
Alas, there was no beer to be seen
But, after waiting round with hope in our hearts
On the off chance we might get a dring
Eventually some fluid appeared on the scene.
As the night was hot, with sand in profusion
The liquid was welcomed with a loud shout.
But, after on sip, we came to the conclusion
That N.A.A.F.I. beer was only just better than nowt
To Port Said through the Suez we hurried,
We made way as fast as we could
But our screws were almost buried
In the sand and the silt and the mud.
In Port Said more shore leave was granted
Ashore the Lads they did go
To buy souvenirs that they wanted
Though most of them had no dough.
A Shoe Store was raided by this impecunious few
But, the Gyppo Traders were very very cute.
Not that any of those Matelots knew,
A surprise they had when they opened their loot.
The Shoe Boxes looked nice and neat
Such as you might buy anywhere.
But the Shoes inside were for all Left Feet
And two Left Feet won't make a pair.
Then into the Med. in haste we sailed
Making for Gib. with all speed
Where everyone bought stacks of bananas
To give the Kids at home a feed.
Inside the Turrets it was like Covent Garden
Green bananas were hung everywhere
G.I.'s and Turret Sweepers-I beg your pardon
Were just about going spare.
Our destination now was Scapa Flow.
In Winter it's cold up there
As Brass Monkeys surely know,
To men just from the Equator it wasn't very fair.
Many of the Ship's Company
Wore their Long John's and Woolly Vests
But in spite of taking precautions
Came down with colds on their chests.
In Scapa the King came to look us over
No. 1's was the Rig of the day
And when the Inspection was over
"Splice the Mainbrace" the Bosun's call did play.
Which meant a Tot that was double
Small compensation for all that Bull.
Philosophically we accepted the Trouble
And enjoyed the Rum's warm glow to the full.
We swung round the buoy in Scapa awhile
Drinking pints in the Flotta Canteen.
When orders came to sail again
We did, with a great big smile.
We then sailed South until Ailsa Craig
On our Starboard Bow was seen,
Into the Clyde and on to the Gare Loch
Where the trees were a welcome green.
WORK then began in earnest
Gun's Crews were drilled very hard.
Then out to Lamlash to Test Shoots
With more hard work for reward.
To the Gare Loch we then returned
With shore leave to each watch in turn,
Helensburgh and Glasgow were visited
By those who had money to burn.
Sailing orders came once again,
This time we headed South
Till we came to Pompey Harbour
And the taste of Brickwoods in the mouth.
We tied up in Pompey Harbour
Soon it was seen for that reason
We saw the Drafting Crusher working over
With a result that was almost treason.
Our numbers were to be reduced
Ours not to reason why
A sad way to see the enemy defeated
Old Shipmates being parted could only sigh.
Years of togetherness were to be broken,
When shall we all meet again?
None of us had the answer
None with the heart to complain.
A Tender drew up alongside
To take off departing mates
Where would they all be tomorrow?
Only their Lords had control of their fate.
The Band was playing a mournful tune
Till the Jimmy came up on deck.
He gave the Bandmaster a bottle
And that brightened the scene by heck.
But many had lumps in their throats
As "Now is the Hour" was played
It was an emotional moment
As each Goodbye was waved.
We did not wait long for the answer
Rumours were heard by the score.
But, the Truth was a very close secret
CARELESS TALK need one say more.
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THEN
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On a stormy Sunday morning
We cast off and put out to sea
Some wished they had never been born
Could not keep down a cup of tea.
We had not been under way for long
When a familiar voice on the Tannoy rang
This time not to give us a song
But, to announce the start of the Big Bang.
The weather was really abhorrent
As to the Second Front we sped
The rain came down in a torrent
We would be much better home in bed.
On this day the Second Front was not to be
Neptune wanted time for a peaceful tea.
So back we went broken hearted
To wait about for a calmer sea.
Monday, Old Nep. proved more tolerant
So off we went with glee,
The Skipper squinted thr'o his Sextant
And set course for France you see.
It would seem we were not welcome
German E.Boats blocked our path
With Tinfish in abundance
The really stirred up our wrath.
Sadly our Escort was blasted
With one of those Gerry Tinfish.
The Horror of War was tasted
Not a pleasant dish.
However the call of duty was relentless
And on we had to go
Then on us Gerry turned his Shore Guns
And not just to make a show.
They banged away at us
With intent to do us harm
We reversed out of range a bit smartish
The Grass Skirt again working it's Charm.
We laid off shore at anchor
In order to stabilise our shot.
Old Gerry felt nothing but rancour
When he tumbled our little plot.
We fired at selected targets
Often at Rommel's Tanks
For which our Army had no regrets
They even gave us their thanks.
All too soon our Shell Bins were empty,
Our Big Guns worn in the Bore,
For us the second Front was over
We withdrew, we could do no more.
This is not the end of the Story
Once again to the Dockyard we went
This time to repair the damage
Our own Big Guns had rent.
We changed those Big Gun's Barrels
That were seriously worn in the Bore
They had fired more than a Thousand rounds
Without stopping to record the score.
We were now in business once again
And off to sea to the Med.
Not for a pleasure cruise to Italy or France,
But to help with the Allied Advance.
We called in to aid Yankee Cruisers
With some recalcitrant intruders
That were delaying the end of the fighting
Holed out in a Monastery perchance.
Loaded up the fifteen inch guns
Lobbing over the odd choice shot.
This was enough for the Italians
Who surrendered on the spot.
The Yanks brought over the Prisoners
Who were interrogated by our Top Brass
They gave them to the Americans
Apparently they were not in our class.
This incident marked the end
Of our fighting in the Med.
So we sailed around to Corsica
And went for a swim instead.
Then we set sail for Algiers
Where they paid us out in France,
We found Urchins on the Quayside
With more money than the Yanks.
These Urchins were in business
Buying anything that goes
From Pusser's Hard to shaving sticks
With an emphasis on old clothes.
The Lads soon took advantage
Of this illicit trade,
They even raided the Scran Bag
There was profit to be made.
The Paybob was really quite puzzled
When he came the Francs to change,
He found he had thousands more
Than he originally from the bank did draw.
He searched hard to find the reason
For this uncommon surge of wealth
The Casino supplied an answer
That kept his Books in health.
To Algiers we said goodbye
Then proceeded to the Rock
Some souvenirs we could afford to buy
With the profit, after taking stock.
We did not stay long with the Barbary Apes
That were resident on the Rock
Once more we were on our way
Through the troubled water of Biscay.
Our passage from there was without event
With no Subs or raiders in the air
Perhaps Allied forces keeping them busy
Which to us was only fair.
We made our way to Scotland
Once more to rest in the Gare
The rest did not last very long
And to Pompy on our way we were.
There we were informed we were in clover
The Ship would battle no more
Still a few Buzz Bombs passed us over
On their way to targets on shore.
The others became acting Caretakers
Putting some of the Guns to sleep
A few remained in Service
For Training purposes to keep.
In the meantime V.E. Day came along
With the Small Ships in the Harbour
Sounding off their hooters in full song
But Ramillies stayed quite silent.
Her Hooter was blanked off you see
By some unknown Chief E.R.A.
The Skipper was very angry
And on the Quarter Deck did rave.
Up to the Funnel E.R.A.'s clambered
Their Chief's honour to save,
The looked down on the fuming Captain
And felt far from being brave.
At last the offending blank was removed
A signal to the Bridge was made with a shout
But all that came from the Hooter
Was a huge great water spout.
The Little Ships watch with interest
This hilarious display
With binoculars focused upon us
Much to the Captain's dismay.
It would surely be Jankers for someone
When defaulters paraded next day
At last the Farce was ended
And a deep silence held sway.
From the Hooter of the Rammy
Came forth a mighty Blast
The Old Girl was really determined
To sound off a Victory Hoot at last.
For those who were left
With still some time to serve
They found plenty of work to do
Officially The Ship was in Reserve.
For them this life style carried on
As one by one when their time came up
They said goodbye and then were gone
Leaving a few Originals to carry on.
So this is where the story
Comes gradually to an end
With RAMILLIES in all it's glory
Only now a memory, Friend.
All that is left of that Famous Ship
Is the Bell in the Marines Museum
Sadly the Grass Skirt, despite a search
Is nowhere to be found.
Bill Broomfield, Bob Waters and Ernie Penny
Are but three of the stalwarts around
Who have left no stone unturned
And no doubt will continue until the skirt is found.
Three Re-Unions have been held.
In Blackpool and in Pompey Shipmates met and parted
But now merge again together in a happy meld.
This time it sees the Golden Aniversary
Of the landing on D Day
And now from Far New Zealand
Another visit Jim Pollok will us pay.
Bringing with him a replacement Skirt
Ceremoniously by the Chieftain's Blessed
Who graciously gave the Original
That saved us when distressed.
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