You Only Get What You Really Want In Dreams.

You know when I joined the Navy the last thing on my mind was being onboard a Submarine. As far as I was concerned I was joining to be a Diver on a Ship and sail around the world in several different directions. A girl in every Port, you know the stereo typical sailor thing we are acustom to on the TV. My career thus far has never resembled what I dreamed it would be as a boy in Belfast.

I, as I have explained previously was always gona join the Navy. When I left home I was sixteen and my Dad was serving the rest of his 3 year sentence in the Crumlin Road Jail,(Now closed down) and my Mum was at home with my 2 sisters.

When my joining up papers arrived I travelled to Aldergrove Airport where I would fly to London and from there I would get the train to Plymouth. I had only ever been on a Ferry to Scotland for a day trip before this so I was apprehensive(Shitting myself) to say the least. I had worked in the Youth Training Scheme for a few months as a joiner between leaving school and joining up in the July of 86 and what money I saved I had in my pocket. I had all the kit I was told to have in a big bag which at the time felt like the weight of a small car over my shoulder.

I eventually arrived in Plymouth where It was apparent that I was one of many young lads who had made the similar journey to an unknown destiny. We were all rounded up by a burly Petty Officer and his Leading Regulator(Service Police) who were both dressed in full No1 uniform with the exception of medals. They said very little apart from bark out our names and herd us onboard a couple of coaches outside.

We drove to HMS RALEIGH which was to be my home for the next 3 months. The first evening we were shown our kit, or at least some of it. My bed which was adorned by those blankets that are used to intimidate POW into submission by itching the skin off their bodies was in the middle of a 30 man mess of Ganges Block(New Entry Division) and the whole place smelled of leather and boot polish. After a restless night we were woken up by our New Entry instructor shouting "Hands off cocks and onto Socks" as he walked the aisle pulling our bedding off our bodies. The thought of, "what the hell have I got myself into crossed my mind.

GROW OLD GRACEFULLY? NEVER! NOT WHILE I CAN STILL TAKE A PISS ON MY OWN.

"I went to the Opticians the other day and you know who I bumped into? Bloody Everybody"

I am no longer the man I once was or at least my eyesight isn't. The other day I went and had my eyes tested and was told I needed glasses to read. I personally put it down to the many years spent in the little dark rooms of Submarines searching for the RED THREAT.

I see this as another notch on the bed post of getting older and I don't like it. Before you know it gravity will be taking over and my stomach will be heading south, "Oh it is", maybe my eyesight is worse than I thought. I pick up my glasses shortly and they better be the dogs bollocks because they have cost an arm and a leg.

To be honest I really can't complain because after what I have put my body through in the last 21 years in the Navy I'm surprised there's not a multitude of other things wrong.

I must go now and pick up one of the Kids but if you see me around town please shout don't just wave.