​      MARKS             DIVision

HMAS LEEUWIN

MARKS DIVISION (Intake No 13)

OCTOBER 1965 TO OCTOBER 1966

By Bruce Hathaway - R95116

 

 

DAY 1

 

My earliest recollection of my first year in “Pussers” was standing on Melbourne’s Spencer’s Street Station Platform 1 with my family. It was night or nearly night. My family with other families of those of the Victorian contingent were there to see us off. We were about to leave for Perth W.A. to HMAS Leeuwin for twelve months schooling as a Junior Recruit (JR).

 

I forget how many boys there were but I remember we were shunted into a waiting room where we stood around waiting for something to happen. I think an officer came in and made us repeat the oath for joining the Navy. Right arms raised we repeated the oath and at the end we had started our twelve years in “Pussers”.

 

So onto the train we went, heading west to what was to be a great adventure. Onboard the train were lads from NSW and Queensland but they were only faces on the train at that time.

 

We stopped in Adelaide and I suppose we picked up the boys from S.A. So off we went across the Nullabor to stop at Kalgoorlie where we changed trains for a very old red rattler for an overnight trip Perth. I had a top bunk on this rattler and I did not get much sleep as I think as did the rest of the lads on that train.

 

We arrived in Perth and I think one less than when we started out with in Melbourne as I am sure with my recollection one prospective JR “pissed off” in Adelaide. We were bussed into Leeuwin, one hundred or so fifteen and sixteen year old boys. Here we would stay for twelve months of school and naval indoctrination.

 

 

MARKS DIVISION

 

We came from all over Australia and made up the 13th intake and we were called MARKS DIVISION (who was he anyway I’ve forgotten, some past commandant or such).  Anyway here we were shoved together stumbling around trying to understand what had hit us and trying to make the best of a bad joke. As I remember it 103 lads went through the main gates that first day (it should have been 104) and at the end of our year there were 87 of us left. I wonder whatever happened to those we lost in that first year.

 

Some of the 87 we have lost along the way but we still remember them.

 

We were placed in groups named Marks 1, 2, 3 & 4. I myself ended up in Marks 2. The smart ones were in Marks 1 and those that required help the most were in Marks 4.

 The hierarchy went this way:-

 

Officer in Charge Marks Division              Lieutenant  Burns

Chief Petty Officer                                       Lofty Thurlow

Petty Officer                                                  PO Head

Other Ranks                                                 Leading Seaman, Able Seaman (don’t remember their names)

 

So we settled down and tried to become sailors. We were paid the princely sum of six dollars a fortnight. We had to donate fifty cents to the barber for shearing us every fortnight and the rest was ours to do with as we pleased. The rest of our pay was banked and we got it when we left Leeuwin. Now we had to pay for toiletries, washing stuff etc. So you can see six dollars a fortnight didn’t go too far. As we progressed up the JR tree our allowance increased to as much a ten or twelve dollars a fortnight. At the end of our year I head the huge sum of around eight hundred dollars I was almost a millionaire!

 

Money was always tight especially if you went ashore. So there was always a black market in money lending. Some of the more affluent (or maybe effluent) always had money sent from home and a few of them would lend you money at the small interest rate of one hundred per cent (yes I mean 100%) which you were required to pay next pay day.

 

Look out if you didn’t pay up for the muscle boys would then move in.

 

That first day as I remember it we all trooped into the drill hall where we received our kit. The kit was made up of strange clothing that were numbered like:-

Number ones – the full dark sailors suit with gold flashes (pants with the seven creases),

Number twos - the full dark sailors uniform with red flashes,

Number two A’s – sailors pants with white front’

Number six – the white sailors suit,

Number eights  – the long working trouser,

Number tens - shorts worn with long socks etc, etc.

 

That was the last we saw of our civvies for a long time!

 

We must have done other things that day but I forget, I do remember in the following days we had hair cuts, we were also I think inoculated and that left us with sore arms for the next few days.

 

We were shown to our barracks (didn’t we call them dongas) which was situated up the hill past the galley and mess hall. It was a wooden edifice that I think was a left over from World War 2. Down the middle were cupboards for all our gear, it had I think either a pull down or insert where we could sit to write or do our study. On both sides under the windows were a long line of wire beds which we had to make up Navy fashion. It was the first time I became familiar with the term hospital or should I say Navy corners, with our Navy issued counterpanes all nice and taught. This was to be our home for the next six months. There were other more modern dormitories called A, B and C blocks but they were for the seniors JR’s (more of these cretins later) those that had been there the longest.

 

As I remember it the shower and toilets were separate from our dormitory.

 

From the back of the dormitory we could see the high wire fence with barb wire on top. That fence we had been assured was not to keep us in but to keep others out. But those of us who where there knew the truth of it. It did not stop many trips going over the top in the next twelve months, but again more of that later.

 

 

PT (OR THE VARIOUS METHODS OF HOW TO MISS IT)

 

An early shock to the system was getting up at the unholy hour of 6:30 AM (or was that 6:00) seven days a week, although we may have slept in to around seven on Sunday but my memory is a bit faulty after forty years. You had enough time to get into your Physical Training (PT) gear and assemble on the Parade Ground in front of the drill hall. Here the entire “Leeuwin crew of JR’s” except those on duty or those doing number 9’s sleepily gathered.

 

PT consisted of doing physical exercise for half to forty minutes. All manner of exercises were perpetrated on we JR’s, rain or shine. I remember on the playing field side of the parade ground there was an open 4 inch turret (gun) whose purpose for existing I never found out. Anyway as we would have to run circuits every pass one or two JR’s would peel off and hide in the turret. I did this trick a couple of times but as there was limited space only a few could hide and I’m afraid those hiding there were often found out.

 

Quite a few JR’s would try and miss PT resorting to ingenious tricks not to do it. Like hiding in your lockers, the showers or heads (toilets). But those responsible to ferret out these malingerers were up to the challenge and knew all the tricks to avoid this physical torture. But the most ingenious trick I knew of was to hide under the fold made by the thrown back counterpane and blankets. Truly inspiring!

 

I don’t know if it ever worked though.

 

Once PT was over it was a scramble to get back, shower, dress and get to breakfast. Breakfast to me was the best meal of the day. I mean only a fool could stuff up cooking an egg. Some mornings we would have fried eggs, other times scrambled eggs and usually with bacon. The fried eggs were cooked in a tray that would hold thirty eggs. The tray was completely covered in fat and the eggs cooked in the fat. Cereal was available with two or three different varieties. Tea was always available. Then it was back to the dormitory to gather your things before it was time to parade for colours at 0800 hours. Then it was off to studies or whatever the groups schedule was.

 

 

BASTARDISATION (OR THOSE SENIOR JR PRICKS)

 

My most standout memory of those first weeks was the night we had a visit from a group of senior JR’s. It was like we were hit by a cyclone. They came in one end and created mayhem the whole length of the dormitory. The “visit” took about a minute or two, it may have been longer but it seemed like a minute or two. Any way by the time they left the whole dormitory was in an uproar. Every bed was upended, mattresses were thrown out the windows, not a few beds ended up in the rafters. All the cupboards had been emptied all over the place. There was nothing we could do as these senior JR’s were a law unto themselves and of course we were warned not to squeal. All we could do was put back things as they were.

 

This was I think our introduction to what many called “Bastardisation”. The senior JR’s lived in new accommodation blocks segregated from us lower forms of life. There was definitely a pecking order and these so called king pins could almost do as they wanted. Although I never personally experienced any “Bastardisation”, I know many others in Marks Division did. Quite often they were snatched and taken back to the senior dorms and made to clean/scrub these dorms out. Some were made to run the gauntlet which entailed running down the centre corridor past the inhabitants of each alcove. The only way to do this was to cover your head and run like hell. Because they would hit you with things like cricket bats and pillow slips with boots in them. If you were lucky all you got was a bruise or two.

 

For the first six weeks there was no shore leave for us new JR’s, so if you were not on duty on the weekend the time was your own. Now I remember the galley and the dining rooms were about half way up the hill. On Sundays we were giving a treat for afternoon tea. Usually great slabs of fruit cake perhaps three by two feet, cut into slices. The mess room duty crew had the responsibility to take these slabs from the galley across the road to the mess rooms. If memory serves there were about four or five slabs to take across. Those hungry for something different to eat would wait eagerly in the mess room licking their lips. All they duty crew had to do was walk across the road from galley to mess room.

 

Alas if even one slab reached its destination we were lucky. Usually those senior pricks I mean JR’s would waylay the unfortunate duty crew and divert the fruit cake to their dormitories. So if you were partial to fruit cake you had to be there early and hope the fruit cake arrives.

 

Of course as our station in life became better, that is we moved up the JR social ladder we also perpetrated our own form of “bastardisation” on our lesser mortal brethren at Leeuwin. But by then you see we had been indoctrinated into the way you do things at Leeuwin. I think the creed was:-

 

‘Do unto others as you have had done to you”.

 

We were simply following a tradition and we thought nothing of it.

 

Of course “bastardisation” wasn’t only limited to the JR community. The other inhabitants that made up HMAS Leeuwin, the officers and other ranks also had their own playful antics as well. But more of that later!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

SCHOOL DAYS (LAZY DAYS OF TRYING TO STAY AWAKE)

 

The average day for a JR after partaking in early morning PT and after colours started with school work. We would gather our books and depart for the various parts of the base. Now the school blocks were behind the new dormitories down by the boat sheds on the swan river. So here was where we learnt subjects like mathematics, physics, social studies and English. Damn me I could have stayed in school at home and studied these things. But not to worry for we also studied naval subjects like navigation, seamanship and ABCD.

 

Do you remember what ABCD meant, was it something like Atomic Bombardment & Contamination Detection. Actually I am only guessing as I have said the old grey matter isn’t what it use to be.

 

I can remember on a warm day trying to stay awake listening to the instructor droning on and on and on. I vaguely remember the boat shed and the wooden whalers we had to row up and down the river.

 

For five days a week we would do school work, the only relief we had from that was playing sport or being on duty. We played all kinds of sport from aussie rules, soccer, hockey, cricket and of course for those born north of the border rugby. If I remember correctly it was actually rugby union was it not because the Navy thought rugby union was a game for gentlemen.

 

Now I wasn’t that good a sportsman but I enjoyed playing footy or any other game of sport.

 

An extra diversion was being taken to the rifle range to practice with rifles. In 1965/66 we were still using the old 303 rifle and not the new SLR rifle the fleet had. I can still remember lying on the ground taking aim and firing my first shot and received a sore shoulder because I did not hold the rifle tight enough to the right shoulder. Still it was an exciting time because for many of us it was the first time we came up against the possibility in the future that we might have to use these weapons of war in anger.

 

So for the first six weeks we were penned up in our wire cage. Remember the cage was there to keep others out not us in.

 

 

SHORE LEAVE

 

Then after six weeks internment we were let loose on the unsuspecting W.A civvies on the weekends. Of course we could only wear our uniforms ashore and I expect it didn’t worry us as we were brand new sailors after all.

 

I remember going off to Fremantle and the pubs, although I really wasn’t a drinker I am the original two pot screamer, three pots and I am anybody’s. But we toured the flesh pots of Fremantle and as time went on branched out to all parts of Perth. But if you weren’t staying with a sponsor family you had to be back by 23:59 hrs Saturday or Sunday night. That’s one minute to midnight for the uninitiated.

 

I remember going to Cottesloe and swimming amongst the white pointers. Well not really but I did swim n the Indian Ocean.

 

Some of us partook in the “Sponsor Family” scheme mentioned above. I was one of these people. On the weekend you could stay with your family the whole weekend and did not have to be home by midnight. I can’t remember where my family lived now but I remember the parents had two boys and a girl all older than me I think at least the boys were. The daughter was a bit of a spunk too! So for a few weekends while I was at Leeuwin I stayed with my other family. I did keep in touch with them after I went east but like a lot of things I gradually lost contact with them over the years.

 

I remember a group of us went on a tour of Perth and for some reason ended up at Kings Park. There was a memorial to the war dead there and someone mentioned that servicemen in uniform had to salute all memorials so like dick heads we did. But I can guarantee you that was the one and only time I did (bit embarrassing don’t you think), luckily there was no one around.

 

I was reminded by one of our erstwhile Marks blokes to mention “six or maybe two bobber” who hung about in Fremantle who only had two teeth in her head and they weren’t side by side. I would have a guess mind that she wasn’t the full quid. I never met her but I am sure a few who read this will remember her.

 

 

TRIPS TO GARDEN ISLAND

 

Remember the trips to Garden Island where HMAS Stirling now resides. Today you can get there by a causeway. But in 1966 you had to travel by work boat down the Swan river. out past Fremantle and onto the island. As I also remember it didn’t some of the more venturesome sail over in whalers. There must have been a pier at the island but I have forgotten. What I do remember is the smell of the engine, the up and down motion of the boat because it was rough and feeling very seedy. It was my first introduction to sea sickness. I think it was Gods revenge to those who wanted to play on the high seas.

 

Whether we camped in tents or in huts I am not sure, but the times we had on the island were fun. At that time there were still quokkas on the island, and the fishing was great especially around the back of the island off the rocks. Those that came sailing over must have had a good time too, because they didn’t tether the boats to anything and the following morning the boats were scattered over the Indian Ocean. I think one was found on the mainland near Rockingham.

 

All up it was a good experience, nothing flashy but we were young and foolish and it was like being Robinson Crusoe. It was also a break from the monotony back home at Leeuwin.

 

 

 

 

 

 

PUNISHMENT (CHOOKS)

 

Now Marks Division from the start was always in the shit. I think that there wouldn’t have been a week once we settled in that some one from Marks Division wasn’t up before the XO (Executive Officer) or the Captain. You name it and Marks Division had done it, was doing it or it was being thought of.

 

Some of the misdemeanors were things like:-

• Thumping some other JR,

• Trying to thump or threatening an officer or other rank,

• Telling an officer or some other rank to get stuffed,

• Not doing as you were told,

• Flogging things,

• Going over the hill,

• Jumping the fence,

• Late returning from leave,

• Etc, etc.

 

Well if you were either dobbed in or found out you were marched down to the Coxswains office which I think was at the gangway where you stood to attention outside and waited for his nibs pleasure. Then at their earliest inconvenience he or they would charge you. So you went before the XO and/or captain told your story and where either let off or punished. I don’t remember many getting off a charge.

 

Now the usual punishment was:-

• so many day number 9’s,

-     this meant extra work details mornings, lunchtimes and at night and extra rifle drill. It also meant automatic loss of leave privileges.

• Number 10’s loss of just leave privileges,

• Loss of pay, or

• A combination of the above.

 

And if the crime was so heinous the person was given a SNARLER which means Service No Longer Required. In other words you were given the arse and sent home.

 

During my time at Leeuwin I was under punishment once, the reason doesn’t matter but I received a months number 9’s and loss of pay. So with the other JR’s doing chooks we started our punishment this way:-

• early morning before the daily grind started, you were up before everyone else and mustered at the gangway to be given chores,

• during lunchtime again doing chores while the others relaxed

• straight after school finished at 1630 hrs (4:30 PM) where we would do a hours rifle drill. This would be carried out under the watchful eye of a duty leading seaman/petty officer (PO)/chief petty officer (CPO). We would be marched around the parade ground doing the various drills we had learnt. If the duty NCO was feeling playful he would have us running around the parade ground with our 303 rifles held over our heads. After a minute or two the rifle weighed a ton and our arms ached for hours afterwards. We ran a lot of miles while under punishment.

• late at night after evening meal we would again muster at the gangway and receive work details to clean up for evening rounds conducted by the officer of the watch. After rounds you would receive extra work to be carried out.

 

I remember cleaning toilets, cleaning rubbish tins, cleaning, scrubbing, polishing and of course my favourite cleaning the grease traps outside the galley. The fragrance was just lovely, you smelt that aroma for days afterwards, it was all over you.

 

While I was on chooks I remember being paged over the intercom system that my presence was required at the gangway forthwith. Doubling up there I kept asking myself “what the hell have I done now.’ Arriving at the coxswains office I was in informed that because I was under punishment and as there was a contingent of JR’s going over to Garden Island I would be going with them as their cook.

 

My first impulse was to burst out laughing but that wouldn’t have been a good idea as I could see that the coxswain was serious. Me a cook, yeah right! Now the only thing I could cook at that time was toast and I usually burnt that. I told the coxswain the very same thing.

 

Not to worry came the reply as they were sending me to the galley for the afternoon where I would learn to be a cook. So that afternoon I was shown around the galley by one of the cooks and I must have been told how to do this and cook that. So there I was an afternoons teaching and I was a gourmet chef.

 

Well I went over to Garden Island and I came back alive so I mustn’t have poisoned anyone while I did the cooking.

 

We usually did our chooks without whingeing (I think), took our punishment on the chin and proceeded on with our lives. Punishment was a way of life at Leeuwin and all those that experienced it made no bones about it. In one way I think it made us better persons, it toughened our bodies and mentally prepared us for what ever was thrown at us. And there was plenty thrown our way, some of it was warranted but a lot was because we were Marks Division.

 

The chooks I did at Leeuwin wasn’t my last but that’s another story.

 

 

GOING OVER OR UNDER THE FENCE (OR A SHOPPING TRIP TO BUY THE NECESSITIES OF LIFE))

 

As I have said a couple of times the fence was there to keep others out not keep us in. If you believe that bullshit by now you need your head read!

 

Once while we were in our wooden Dongas I remember the dockies or dock yard police were doing their rounds at night patrolling the perimeter fence. One of the other dongas was close to the fence and as one dockie cop was passing between the donga and the fence he was suddenly swallowed up be the earth.

 

Some of the more enterprising JR’s from another division had dug a tunnel from the donga to the fence and the unfortunate dockie found it the hard way. I don’t remember the outcome of that misdemeanor.

But lets get back to Marks Division. Now some of you blokes could and did drink like fish and a lot of you had very big thirsts. I was never part of this little jaunt because I did not drink. Why is another story. But naturally I knew what went on. Every now and again this thirst would get so big two or three lads would jump the fence (I think there was open land or a park on the other side) at night and proceed to the nearest pub or bottle shop with orders to buy this or that and come back laden with grog.

 

One night two or three lads were coming back from stroll in the park and as I remember it got caught by the dockies with one on top of the fence and one on each side of the fence. Those that did it know who they were but I have forgotten. If you know let me know and I amend this story. I think the grog was either sent to the NCO mess or tipped down the drain. Needless to say I assume those three intrepid lads joined the chooks squad.

 

 

BASTARDISATION PART 2 (BY OTHER RANKS)

 

Now bastardisation wasn’t exclusively the right of our JR peers, no way. The other ranks that made up HMAS Leeuwin joined in the fun too. Don’t get me wrong Marks Division wasn’t a group of church goers and we had more than our share of those that stepped over the line quite often. But then again some of the other ranks who were part of the establishment needed no excuse to mete out punishment. Quite often we would find ourselves ordered out of our dormitories at any hour day or night and onto the parade ground because some perceived infringement whether true or not. Quite a few were charged with misdemeanors that were frivolous or even trumped up. But there was nothing we could do about it so we took what was meted out.

 

I remember one night one or more of our brethren during the night thumped some other JR’s or so the story goes. These unfortunates had either squealed or the thumping was witnessed by others and needless to say we were turned out late at night in our pjamas onto the parade ground. We stood there for some time while we were grilled by the duty watch. They wanted to know who had done the thumping.

 

But you did not squeal on your mates so they didn’t get very far. So there we were in our PJ’s standing there. Then the grim reaper turned up.

 

A commander (any one know his name) took over and he was pissed. Of course he also received a stony silence, but this did not deter him oh no. If we were not going to say anything he was going to make us.

 

By that I mean he ordered us to frog march back and forward across the parade ground until we told him what he wanted to know. Now that parade ground was perhaps two hundred yards wide, I cannot remember how long we frog marched but needless to say the prick never got the information he wanted. I also remember we could hardly stand upright when he had finished with us and walking back to the dormitory was agony, we had very sore legs for days afterwards.

 

 

 

 

LONG LEAVE

 

Remember about six months through our training the Navy wouldn’t spend the money and send us home for two weeks leave, I think the W.A. lads went home but those from the east didn’t. Instead they divided us up and sent us for two weeks to various parts of W.A.

 

I was in the party that went to Bunbury to the south of Perth. They put us in a scout hall where we slept on cots. It must have had a kitchen and showers else we would have been very hungry and smelly after two weeks. So there we were ensconced in a scout hall in Bunbury. Now they had to do something with us for it would not have been a good idea to leave very bored JR’s to themselves.

 

Imagine what could have happened, and it usually did. I do think that that were a few night trips after lights out.

 

Anyway during the day they took us on tours to the various tourist places of the area. I remember three such tours.

 

The Duke of Gloucester tree.

 

It is a very large Kaurie tree that they used as a fire lookout. It went up a long way and had steel spikes in it so you could climb up to the cabin in the sky. Being sixteen years old and immortal we went up that tree quick as anything not thinking about falling or any other grim outcome.

 

I went back to that tree with my family in 1996 where my kids went up it like jack rabbits. Me I took my time as I had visions of my own mortality which I did not have in 1966.

 

The Local Abattoirs

 

Why they wanted us to go there is beyond me, maybe they were running out of places to take us or it was a slow day. Anyway they took us to an abattoirs, one thing it did was open our eyes to another world. Did you ever wonder where your steak or chops comes from. Well we saw the cow start out alive, being spiked with a spike gun and all the steps from a live beast to being packaged up as mince meat.

 

I never at meat for weeks after that little visit!

 

The Collie Coal mine

 

A very interesting visit going underground to see a working coal mine. But why did they make us do it in our uniforms because we came out of the mine with coal dust all over our uniforms.

 

I also remember being taken out sailing by Dave Manolas who lived in Bunbury. Now let me set the scene for you.

 

It was a cold and squally day with very large waves coming in from South Africa or maybe from Antarctica, remember it was the middle of winter. Anyway Dave had this ridiculously small floating platform or tub he called a sailing boat. Now I was a city boy and the closest I had come to being on the high seas was swimming in Port Phillip Bay. So there we were stringing this boat up with tiny little sails and stays and masts and yardarms etc. Very confusing to a city boy.

 

I think he had named the boat the Titanic or some such name.

 

So anyway we managed to get the boat afloat, we jumped in Dave on the tiller and the captain me up forward and the crew. I think we had life jackets on didn’t we Dave. Not to worry as I could swim but the thought of being swept out to sea and ending up in Madagascar did cross my mind. So here we were scudding across the top of the waves, crashing down in the troughs, swallowing heaps of salt water as the tidal waves broke across our bows, with Dave yelling me orders to haul that yardarm tight or loosen that stay yer landlubber or other quaint sailing terms.

 

Well it was a very interesting lifetime that flashed before me that afternoon. But the next time I went to sea was on an aircraft carrier and even that seemed a little small to me.

 

Thanks Dave you really cured me from being a sailor in a small boat, my physiatrist did help me to get rid of those nightmares mate.

 

 

SENIOR DIVISION (OR THE LAST THREE MONTHS)

 

After nine months we became the senior division and were king of the pile. Now it was a tradition that the senior division always won the trophy for best division (anybody know the name of the mug). All those at Leeuwin thought that we were the worst group of JR’s to grace the hallow grounds of Leeuwin. So much so that not only were they saying it to our faces they were taking bets we wouldn’t come within cooee of that mug. So one night we had a meeting where we all decided that we would pull our fingers out and go for the mug.

 

So we pulled our fingers out, did all the right things, earned the maximum points where ever we could and lo and behold Marks Division was the best division. Actually I don’t think the mug meant that much to us.

 

What was important though was we were able to rub everyone noses in it who thought we were no hopers.

 

 

JR JUSTICE (OR BUCK UP OR ELSE)

 

As I have said there was a definite pecking order at Leeuwin and the rules were very rigid and you didn’t dare transgress any of them. It was also the reason why many JR’s were always doing chooks. Evidence of this justice came one night when we were in C block. Now personnel hygiene was important especially if you are living in close quarters with a couple of hundred sailors (especially onboard a ship). So if you didn’t wash or keep your clothes clean there were plenty around who would tell you to buck your ideas up. Most who were given the “drum” took this advice seriously and bucked their ideas up.

 

But some did not.

 

So after a couple of warnings those that were our supposedly leaders of Marks Division took it upon themselves to give an unfortunate JR an abject lesson.

 

They put him in a shower (with or without clothes I am not sure) and proceeded to scrub him with hard brooms. Can you imagine what it would be like using hard brooms, not a very nice thought. Well anyway after the lesson that unfortunate wrote home and told of his experience, So the matter went to a local MP through the government through the Navy and back to Leeuwin. Needless to say the establishment took a dim view of what had happened.

 

I don’t know what the aftermath of that little episode. Maybe one of you could tell me!

 

 

PASSING OUT PARADE

 

Remember that night!

 

We dressed up in our number ones, spit polished boots, white gaiters and belt with 303 rifles we marched past in review. I think the WA lads had there families present and after the march          there were speeches and awards etc.

 

A couple of days later we packed up our kits and those going home interstate went home. Now, I think it was by train am I correct in that there was a lot of gambling on the train.

 

For some of us it would be a long time before if ever we saw one another again. But for most it wasn’t too long before we were reunited as most of us had been posted to HMAS Sydney as Ordinary Seaman.

 

But that story I may write another day. Most of us served about nine months on the old girl before we went to all points for training in our prospective branches. In my case as an ABFC (Able Seaman Fire Control – as part of the gunnery branch) course.

 

Over all I remember my twelve months at Leeuwin fondly and with a fierce pride, and since we have had our reunions my time in pussers has meant more to me than I had thought. I don’t know if I would do it all over again. But that doesn’t matter; it is a part of me, it has defined who I am.

 

I don’t think my family or my kids really understand what it meant to be part of a group of kids sixteen years old, away from home, where we all grew up very quickly and became the persons we are today.

 

Now I am not that religious mates but God bless us all and especially the place called HMAS Leeuwin.