THE NAUTICAL COLLEGE IN THE 1930s
by KEITH EVANS (33-37)
My first contact with Pangbourne College was in early 1933. Having been accepted for entry as a Cadet Royal Naval Reserve from my preparatory school in Kent, I was visited at home in Bournemouth by a Mr. Kingston from Gieves in London to measure me for my uniform.
At some stage after that I sat for the scholarship examination. There was an infectious disease at the College at the time and the five of us involved took the exam at the St. Ives hotel close to what is now the College boathouse by the Thames (where later I received a Bronze medallion for collecting a brick from the bottom of the river!). I think it was John Murray (33-36) who was awarded the scholarship; I got an exhibition worth £35 a year.
Forty of us joined the College on September 18, 1933. Seven were to be killed in action in the Second World War and few of the remainder are alive today. My two best friends turned out to be John Groom (33-37), who went on to become Chief of the College before joining the Royal Navy, and Robin Angel (34-36) who also served in the RN as a pusser like me. Both are dead now.
I have to say, looking back after all these years, that my eleven terms at the Nautical College were not particularly eventful. As Lionel Stephens, in his history of the College, puts it: “There were no startling developments at Pangbourne in the 1930s.” Yet, with the advantage of hindsight, our three to four years at Pangbourne were the making of many of us, in particular inculcating a sense of discipline, comradeship, good manners and a sense of fun. The wearing of the King’s uniform helped to instil a lasting sense of pride.
At this remove in time, though, my main personal memory of the College is that for more than half a year it was a very cold place indeed with little or no central heating. White’s Field was freezing in winter and early morning Ackers in PT gear (gloves were banned) caused painful chilblains in my case. The bunk beds were uncomfortable while the ash bogs in Crystal Palace, and two new toilets installed at Croft House which lacked doors on the grounds of expense, stick in my mind’s eye because of their lack of comfort and privacy.
In those days Harbinger and Macquarie were in Devitt House, Hesperus at Bowden Green and Port Jackson in Croft House. There were rows of huts alongside the parade ground where the Instructors resided. Sick Bay was close by as were the Bursar’s office, Stitch and the dreaded room where Charles Sewell awaited defaulting cadets and a possible beating. Last, but not least, there was constant marching everywhere.
I was probably about ‘average’ or maybe just below. I arrived at the College as a timid little boy of just 14 years old. My father, a businessman in Liverpool, had taken his own life in 1921 at the age of 63 when I was two. My mother (36 years younger than her husband) never remarried and rather spoilt me, her only child. My years at Pangbourne changed me, however, and I left the place a somewhat conceited, yet more confident, young man.
I can’t claim to have shone at games except perhaps at Squash and Fives. Boxing was compulsory which I hated. Founder’s Day was in the middle of the summer term and we cadets mounted various displays on Big Side. One summer I took an exhausting cycling holiday in northern France with AVG Walker (33-37). In the Easter holidays of 1936 I went to Paris with other public schoolboys, stayed with a French family, attended totally incomprehensible lectures at the Sorbonne each forenoon, went sightseeing in the afternoons and visited naughty establishments in the evening.
Another time I was one of 24 cadets, accompanied by the Executive Officer and four parents including my mother, who sailed on a two-week cruise around the Mediterranean on the P&O liner Strathaird. Among our party were RA Shuttleworth (34-38), who was killed in action in 1941, and four other OPs fated to die in the war – LV Newall (33-35), RJD Law (32-36), RVN Levinge (33-36) and MGL Hornby (31-35).
In 1935 I was one of a party of cadets who took part in the cruiser Effingham in the Silver Jubilee Review at Spithead. The following year King George V, the sailor king, died in January. Shortly after a detachment of Pangbourne cadets including myself were positioned near Marble Arch along the funeral route from Paddington to Westminster Hall. The day was January 23rd, a very cold damp day, and we stood from 0730 to 1400 hours. None of us fainted although several cadets from Dartmouth did. At the end of that year I listened to King Edward V111’s abdication speech on the radio in Croft House.
Day to day, the College was more or less run by the Executive Officer, Commander Jackie Blair. Unfortunately he did not get on with the Captain Superintendent, Captain Tracey, and was not invited to take refreshment in the upmarket establishment of Devitt House, instead favouring a local hostelry in the village. In 1935 there was a bit of a bust up and Cdr. Tracey did not reappear, being replaced by Captain Greig. We were never told why.
Many of the masters had no teaching experience or degrees although several had served in the Great War of 1914-18 which appealed to us boys. ‘Flatty’ House was ex-Navy and taught Geography while Cdr. MacIlwaine taught Navigation. Mr. Robinson (Robo) taught Maths and told me I was useless. An OP called Crozier (GAL Crozier 18-20), who was badly crippled by polio, taught French. Others on the staff included Cdr. Windebank (rather an ancient creature) and the two Daveys, Rat and PJ (the Somerset cricketer). The Director of Studies was Stanley Cook who came from Leeds Grammar School and was the laughing stock of the cadets. He lasted two years.
And, of course, there was Harry Sykes who was to spend 37 years at the College teaching Maths and for many years acted as Hon. Sec. of the OP Society. Harry died in 1967 and a Thanksgiving Service was held that October in the College chapel. I was serving in Malta as Base Supply Officer at the time and arranged for a commemoration to be held in St. Michael’s church in HMS St. Angelo. Nine OPs attended including Capt. WJ Woolley (35-39), head of the British Naval Mission in Tripoli in Libya, CRE Compton (33-36) who was running a sailing school on Malta, WStG Anderson (33-36), formerly a district commissioner in the Solomon Islands but by that time Master of a private motor yacht and Captain Charles Blandy (52-56) who was serving on the island in the Royal Artillery.
I still have my school reports. These suggest that I was barely average academically but developed well when given some authority as a Cadet Leader and Cadet Captain. I began keeping a diary in my last term in 1937. By then I was a Cadet Captain for the starboard watch of Port Jackson division where new cadets spent their first two terms. The entries record the rhythm of my life that term: Work – Hockey – Squash – Ackers – rehearsal for Harbinger play ‘Trial by Jury’ in which I was the judge – Medical examination at the Admiralty February 8 – Written exam at the Civil Service Commission in London March 2-6 – Exam results (passed) April 3 – Left NCP April 7.
Looking back, it was the Instructors – namely Bill Stamper (Gnarly Bill), Charlie Sewell, Poppa Henning and Stoker Martin, all ex-armed forces – who were invaluable in helping us all to develop. In their own individual, lower deck ways they had an enormous influence over impressionable, wet-behind-the-ears teenagers.
Still, the poor education standards at the College in the 1930s did not prevent Pangbourne producing some outstanding individuals. Several contemporaries or near-contemporaries spring to mind. Ian McGeoch (28-31) became a Vice Admiral, was knighted and won the DSO and DSC in the Second World War. I got to know him quite well in his later years. Peter Hellings (30-34) was Chief of the College in my second term. He became Commandant General of the Royal Marines and had the unique distinction of being awarded both the DSC and MC during the war. George Crowley (30-33) was my captain in HMS Raleigh in 1961-62 and became a good friend. He retired as a Rear Admiral with a CB and DSC. I should also mention Marcus Graham (31-35), a survivor of the HMS Prince of Wales sinking in 1941. Later he became chairman of the Board of Governors at Pangbourne and helped to transform the NCP into the fine school it is today.
After the NCP I joined the cruiser HMS Frobisher to begin a truly exciting, hardworking and mostly enjoyable 35-year career in the Royal Navy. During the Second World War, which broke out a couple of years after I left Pangbourne, I was very fortunate that four ships in which I had served, including the battle cruiser HMS Hood, were sunk by enemy action only after I had left them. Later I was to spend 18 months on loan to the Royal New Zealand Navy in HMNZS Royalist on the Far East Station in 1957-58 before retiring from the Navy in 1972.