My
Application
In
1939 I became interested in joining the Royal Marines after hearing
my father talk about them and seeing a recruiting advert in the
local papers. I filled in the paper cutting and posted it off to
the recruiting offices in Belfast.
Within
two weeks I received a reply. I was asked to go to the Belfast
recruiting offices where I completed a series of tests and the
recruiting officer informed me that I had passed the tests. I was
accepted into the Royal Marines. The recruiting officer told me
that it would be a couple of months before they would get in touch
A
fortnight later I was working in Boyd’s Engineering paint shop
when the girl from the Post Office next door came into the
workplace. She reached me a letter marked OHMS. I read the letter;
rolled up the putty I was working with, stuck the putty knife in
the putty and informed everyone that I was off. Albert Boyd was
annoyed because I had joined up without letting him know.
The
letter was asking me to report to Belfast the following Monday. My
parents were unaware of my decision to join up. But they managed to
work it out when they recalled the mysterious trip to Belfast
earlier in the month. My father was reluctant to sign the consent
form when he realized that I was joining the Royal Marines and not
the Royal Enniskilling Fusiliers as he had done.
In
June 1939 at the age of sixteen and a half I travelled from my home
to Belfast, over to Liverpool and then down to the Royal Marine
Depot at Deal in Kent. Initially there were three recruits from
Northern Ireland; a boy from Larne, one from Belfast and myself. We
then met up with ten other recruits in Liverpool.
The
First Week as Recruits
At
the RM Depot we were escorted to the drill shed. There was a set of
blankets, toilet gear, towels and uniforms all set out in the drill
shed, each item was marked with our names.
After
a good bath we were escorted back to the drill shed for a nights
sleep. At 6am we were given a rousing call and informed, ‘You
will not be taken to the dining hall for breakfast. You are not yet
presentable for the dining room!’ The cooks brought our food to
us in the drill hall that morning.
Within
the first week we had been issued with all our kit except our
uniforms. We were issued with two shirts, one was white and the
other was a blue pinstripe. At no stage were we ever issued with
khaki shirts.
Royal Marine Kit Inspection - 1939
The
Depot Commandant
The
first Monday at the Depot the Commandant introduced himself and
explained in great detail what our training entailed and what was
expected of us throughout all our training year. Our training was
to start that month and run for a year until the following June in
1940 but that didn’t happen. The war intervened with our training
and after our initial six months training we ‘Passed Out’ as
Royal Marines in the first week of December.
Barrack
Accommodation
I
was posted to 355 Squad for my recruit training. We were then taken
to the barrack rooms and pointed out my bed. Two voices piped up,
‘What the hell are you doing here Balmer!’ I looked round and
there were two of my former classmates from Eden, Ballymoney,
William Alexander and Malachy Taggart. They had been in the Royal
Marines for six weeks but I was unaware of that. They had joined
together because they always socialised together in Kilrea whereas
I always went to Ballymoney on my time off. That was a lucky
meeting because they were able to ‘show me the ropes’.
Each
barracks had a Corporal who was responsible for the barrack room.
If he was sober he would help the recruits get to grips with their
kit and equipment. We hardly ever saw our Corporal because he was a
champion water polo player for the Royal Navy and the Royal
Marines.
The
best bit of advice he ever gave us was, ‘If you ever feel that
you are being abused, even by your instructor, come and tell me and
I will sort the problem out.’ We queried how a Corporal could
sort out someone senior to himself. He told us that he would not
hesitate in taking our problem to the highest authority if
necessary.
There
was also an old soldier in each barracks who was responsible for
showing us all how to press our clothing, clean, polish, assemble
and fit our webbing, clean our boots and how to make ourselves
presentable. He had been in the Royal Marines for ten years and we
all benefited from his knowledge. He had no war stories to tell us
because the decade from 1929 to 1939 had been relatively quiet.
We
had six weeks to learn how to dress ourselves before we would ever
be allowed outside the depot.
Basic
Training
As
a recruit we did all the basic foot drill with and without weapons.
We did arms drill, fixing bayonets at the halt and on the march,
changing arms on the march. Fixing bayonets on the march was a
tricky operation. We were issued with the eighteen-inch bayonets
and you could easily have stabbed the man in front of you as you
tried to fix it to the rifle and bring the rifle back up to the
slope.
Every
recruit squad had forty men so that there were always two blank
files when you paraded in ranks of three. Every recruit had their
turn at the front rank of the blank files. There was a lot more
work to do in that position when you were on the march.
The
Cambridge Graduate
There
was a former Cambridge graduate in our squad. He had stood down
from his Cambridge education and this created a rift with his
parents. But they always sent him a weekly allowance so he was
quite well off for a recruit. He also made other money from
teaching potential officers mathematics. I earned the princely sum
of 25p each week for cleaning his boots and webbing. That kept me
supplied with cleaning gear. You use a lot of cleaning gear as a
recruit.
There
were three colours of Blanco alone: white for the ceremonial
webbing, green for webbing and brown for the lace-up gaiters,
barrack room slippers and shoes. We had to wear brown gaiters as
recruits. The barrack room slippers were canvas with brown leather
toes, soles and heels. Many years later, in 1950, when 45 Cdo were
being shipped to Malaya we would parade in the evenings in our deck
slippers.
We
were expected to ‘lay out’ our kit for inspection at least once
every month.
The
Apology
About
a week later I was on the parade ground for instructions on arms
drill. We were being taught the present arms from the shoulder and
the drill instructor, Sergeant Clark, had us standing close to a
pebble dashed wall. If your present arms came out too far from your
body you would scrape your knuckles on the wall in front. I did
scrape my knuckles and dropped my rifle. The drill instructor
called me an ‘Irish bastard’. I persevered to the end of the
day. At 4pm. I then took off all my webbing, went to tea and then
instead of cleaning my webbing I collapsed on my bed and gave up.
At
about 7pm the Corporal came into the room and asked me what I was
doing lying on my bed. Another recruit told him that the Drill
Sergeant had called me an Irish bastard and not only was he annoyed
everyone else was. The Corporal asked us if we were all prepared to
stand by our statements and we told him we would. The Corporal
detailed the squad to take all my kit and get it in good order for
inspection. He ordered me to get off the bed and get my boots ready
for inspection.
The
Corporal spoke to the Company commander the next morning. At
lunchtime the Corporal came to me and said that I would get an
apology from the Drill Sergeant that day. I found that difficult to
believe but I told the Corporal that I would be in the barrack room
that evening if the Sergeant wanted to apologise. ‘Oh no,’ the
Corporal replied, ‘You will not be in the barrack room for the
apology. It will take place on the parade ground in front of the
other thirty nine recruits in your squad.’
That
is exactly how it happened. The Drill Sergeant called me out of the
squad and apologised to me on the parade ground and then asked me
if I accepted the apology and extended his hand for me to shake. Of
course I did and there were no repercussions on me for reporting
him at any time.
One
Wednesday he selected me for the football team. When I told him
that there were better men than me in the squad he told me that I
can use both feet, I was a good runner and I was not scared. So
there was no animosity on his part for having to apologise to me on
the parade ground.
That
drill instructor was known as a King’s Badge man. That means he
always showed potential, even as a recruit and was selected as an
instructor. That day he miscalled me was probably the only black
mark against him in his career. I met him again after I had been in
Germany for five years as a prisoner of war. He had reached the
rank of Captain and despite qualifying as a Major he believed that
he would never get any further than the Captains rank for reasons
unknown to him.
Seamanship
Training
One phase of our training was basic seamanship training; we went to Chatham for that. We were trained in boat drills, rope handling, sailing and how to raise and lower the ships boats in Chatham. We learned to man the cutters and whalers. These were the wooden boats used by the Royal Navy. That training was stopped when war damaged ships came to the dockyard for repairs.
Guard
Duties
During
your recruit training you were tasked to other duties. For example,
over the twelve months of recruit training you had to perform one
guard duty every month. These were either there were twelve or
twenty-four hour guard duties.
One
of the worst jobs you could get was the Adjutants Orderly. He had a
horse and he would ride this animal onto the parade, dismount and
then call you over to hold the reins while he carried out his
duties. He always said, ‘Be gentle, he bites!’ ‘And don’t
pull on the reins’. The horse was wicked, you had to watch him
all the time otherwise he would take a nip at you.
The
next guard duty I was assigned to was Officer of the Day Orderly.
That was an easier duty because all you had to do was parade twice
daily and once in the evenings when he went round the outposts
checking on the guard.
I
only had one Rifle Guard duty in my training year and that was the
worst of the lot. I was tasked to guard the pay office; a very
lonely duty in a damp corner of the Depot. There were stories told
about that spot, just enough to scare you. It was said that someone
broke into the pay office and was shot for his troubles. His ghost
was supposed to haunt the area. It was a story that kept everyone
away from the pay office but the least little noise would scare the
life out of you.
One
of the better guard duties was at the wharf where the training
cutters and whalers were moored. There was an old marine there as a
night watchman who kept a hot brazier glowing all night. He usually
invited you down to have a cup of coffee and a yarn. The old guy
had ears like a fox and could hear someone approaching long before
I did and would warn me off. I usually reached the sentry box
before the Orderly Sergeant reached me.
