My life story by Henry J Macey (books suggested by bill gates TXT) 📖

Malta, took a lot of stick from the men of her majesty’s royal navy. Quite unfairly I might add, late one night five very merry men arrived at the quayside. They instructed the disso oarsmen, to propel them to their ship. The oarsmen quite rightly informed them, that the disso could only legally carry five men one being himself. To keep within the law, the oarsman was tossed into the harbour and the five rowed themselves to their ship.

 

I will not go into any detail of the many accidents or mishaps that occurred on Eagle.  It has been over fifty years since I left her in dry dock at Plymouth so I will give you a shortlist of the things I have seen.  On one occasion we had a mass fly off of all the planes that were on deck.  The jets on the forward deck waiting to use the steam catapult.  The free take-off planes parked both sides of the flight deck waiting to taxi out to take off in turn.  There were three long-range radar fairy gannets parked on the stern.  One on either quarter with one in the middle, on the very end of the flight deck.  The jets took off and the propeller jobs started to pull out for their turn.

 

I can only surmise what really happened next but it seemed as if the pilot of the rear plane did not rev his engine enough when he releases the brakes.  All we saw was his plane disappear over the stern of the ship, as the wash from the other planes pushed him backwards.  I have seen many planes crash; a Sea Vixen came in too low and hit the end of the flight deck.  It somersaulted several times before it landed on its back in flames.  The pilot and navigator both lost their lives.  A Wyvern came in too fast.  It hit the deck very hard breaking its back.  It skidded into the island and burst into flames.  I was standing on the observation platform right above it.

 

‘Eagle’ used both destroyers and helicopters as guards for taking off and landings.  The helicopters were sea kings.  They could be used for sea rescue or with their sonar domes, could hunt for submarines.  One was flying parallel to the ship keeping pace with it, acting as a plane guard.  Something went wrong with its rear rotor.  It started to spin on its own axis and went down into the sea.  The destroyer stationed astern stopped to pick up its crew. Luckily all the crew were retrieved from the briny, but the chopper was lost to Davie Jones locker.

 

A flight deck handler walked into a spinning propeller.  It cut him to pieces; there was a rumour that he had just received a ‘Dear John’ from his girlfriend.  One of the tow truck drivers, not looking were he was going, drove onto the flight deck lift, except it wasn't there.  He dropped two decks to where it was positioned.  The plane he was towing followed him. There was an incident in the hanger when someone fired the guns on an aircraft by accident.

 

There is one incident I remember as if it happened yesterday.  I was working in the laundry at the time and was asked by one of the aircrew P O’s, to give his best uniform a special press.  He was going to receive an award or something.  I had just entered his mess and heard on the loudspeaker, a distress call from one of the pilots.

 

It seemed he was losing oil pressure and was returning to the ship.  We all went up on deck to see him return.  When we got to the observation platform we could see they had the crash barrier up, and the crash tender and crane ready.  I stood with the others looking astern; we never saw the plane just a bright orange flash as the plane blew up. A destroyer was dispatched to search for the pilot. I can not remember if they found him, but I can still remember his name, but I will not print it here.

 

We paid a visit to Barcelona and had several good runs ashore there, but we didn’t just drink all the time just most of it. Some of us went on bus trips, to see battle sites of the Napoleonic wars. We also went to a bullfight, where we got kicked out for shouting El Toro. It seemed they got as passionate about their bullfighting, as Liverpool fans do about football. I always shout for the underdog, that’s what makes me, ‘me’.

 

When we got to Gibraltar those of us that had gone on the battlefield tour, were detailed off again to volunteer to be bussed up to Cadis. Here the educating officer was defiantly in his element, as he gleefully gave us all a history lesson. About Nelson and how he trapped the Spanish and French fleets here, then, of course, the famous sea battle afterwards. I’m afraid I didn’t hear it all; one of my mates kicked me to wake me up. Just as the education officer, was finishing off his exhilarating talk.

 

Now don’t get me wrong, I was interested in all things navel. It was just that I had come off a watch in the engine room when I was collared to volunteer. I had just left the showers with just a towel around my waist when I literally run into my Divisional Officer. He was looking for someone to fill his quota when I saw the look on his face it was too late to turn and run. “Just the man, muster at the gangplank at 0-nine thirty number eights. You’re going on a nice day out.”

 

In 1959 Eagle went into dry dock at Plymouth, some of the Ships Company had drifts straight away. I said goodbye to my friends, as they left the ship for places far away. Jock was being sent to his homeland, with a berth at Rosyth not far from his home in Glasgow. Ock’ey from hull went to Singapore; Smed’s from South Shields went to Portsmouth and from there into Civvies Street. His seven years were up, and he was doing his five years reserve, from the comfort of a shore job. No amount of persuasion would entice him to stay in, as he had disliked being at sea. When we had found out, we had asked him why he had joined the navy if he hated the sea. He had given us the classic answer, “well I thought it was a good idea at the time.”

 

I was staying aboard for a short time until the dockyard took over completely. With the engines and boiler rooms shut down, donkey boilers were employed to supply steam to the ship. Now with dock worker clambering all over the ship, we who were left were moved into the Eagle suite at H, M, S, Drake hotel. With my going ashore oppo’s no longer with me, I became a lone ranger. And surprisingly, my intake of the amber nectar diminished. It was no longer as much fun being in a pub, with no one to joke with. Or having good shipmates, to take the preverbal extrusion of bodily fluids out off.

 

Most of the times I went ashore in Plymouth, was out of boredom with being in a mess deck in a stone frigate. You couldn’t wander out onto the weather deck, to watch the sunset into the sea. Or the seabirds skimming over the waves, and those loveable dolphins playing. Sometimes I would go ashore and go to the pictures, just to pass the boring time away. It was on one of these nights out; when I was stone-cold sober I got into my first fight. Well, it wasn’t a fight really; it was more a case of me staying out of harm's way.

 

I was returning to Drake and had just bought a special oggy, (Pasty) from a stall not far from the main gate. You were not allowed to carry food through the entrance to Drake, so you had to scoff it before you reached it. A few yards from the stall I came across a sailor with his girlfriend, they were having an argument. As I got close he slapped her, me being me I had to comment on his despicable behaviour. I found myself discarding my oggy to defend myself, not just from him she too swung her handbag at me. I dogged and weaved dancing on my toes, as I parried off their blows.

 

My footwork took me out into the road, in full view of the main gate. Over his shoulder, I could see the gate guard watching us, and wondered why they had not come to intervene. They let me dance for what seemed like ten minutes or so before two navy policemen came and dragged him into the guardhouse. As I entered the gatehouse, the regulating chef told me to step into his office. He closed the door and said to me. “Fighting in the street is a serious charge, what have you got to say.”

 

“You can’t really charge me with fighting chef, I was just protecting myself. Anyway, he didn’t land a punch, and I never throw one” I answered. “Yes,” he said, “I saw it all but I meant do you want to press charges.” The unwritten law in the Navy was, you never drop anyone in it so I said. “No I don’t want to take it further chef; I’ll leave it up to you if you want a word with him. As far as I’m concerned it never happened, now what were we talking about.” He smiled as he closed his report book, he hadn’t written a word down.

 

“That was some impressive footwork, some of the best I’ve seen. I haven’t had the pleaser of seeing you in the ring, how many fights have you had?” he asked. “I don’t box chef” I answered, “I’m a rock and roller. When I’m on leave my sister and I go out dancing, we jive and boggy together were pretty good at it.” “Hum,” he said rubbing his chin, “I run the boxing team here at Drake fancy joining it. You get special privileges if you’re on the team. With your footwork and me training you, we might have another champ in the making.”  “No thanks chef I’m a lover, not a fighter. The prospect of standing toe to toe with someone, and trying to punch them senseless doesn’t appeal to me at all. And I like the way my face looks” I answered.

 

“Fair enough son but if you change you're mined look me up, anybody will tell you where to find me. Oh by the way, do you know who your opponent was tonight?” he asked. I shook my head and said, “Haven’t the foggiest should I.” “Not if you’re not into boxing, he’s the lightweight champion of Devonport” he smilingly answered. As I left his office I thought to myself, Harry you're lucky to be standing and without a fat lip. I met the man himself a few days later, in the mess hall over lunch. He was standing with one of the regulating ratings, which had rescued me. I saw him say something to the boxer, and then nod his head in my direction.

 

The boxer came over and I wondered if I should put down my food tray, and get ready to dance again. He thrust out his hand and said his name, then apologized for his actions. Then he said, with a big smile. “The chef said you outclassed me in the street, why don’t you join the club I might be able to catch you in a ten by ten.” “No thanks buddy” I answered, “I’d sooner dance with ladies. If I’m going to lay down, I prefer a soft feather bed.” We left it at that, I never saw him fight and he never saw me dance.

 

When I finally