The Yomp For Steve

Saturday, 18 May 2013 saw the Yomp For Steve*. A group of Steve Sharpe's friends have gotten together and for the past 2 years, they've walked from one of his favourite places at Titchfield Haven to Shore Leave Haslar, a walk of about 8 miles along the Hampshire coastline.


The assembled throng, included friends from Gosport with whom he grew up, ex field gunners, fellow Commandos, a lab tech, an RAF air traffic controller, an ex naval Medical Assistant and assorted spouses and dogs. And last but not least, his lifelong friend Brian (or Bj).

We chat, some bring their dogs, we amble, some stop for a beer, some stop for a New Forest ice cream (I recommend the rhubarb crumble and custard one) and others stop for a cuppa. We each chip in £10 and all the proceeds go to Shore Leave Haslar. This year we raised £280. They in their turn provide us with a simple but tasty barbecue, drinks and cake in the wonderful gardens they've recovered.

Last year Steve's mum and dad were there to see us off, but earlier this year Steve's mum died suddenly and his dad needed his time to grieve and to get over her death and so didn't attend.There was one person missing and I hope she can join us next year after all that she has gone through, and continues to do so.

You, too, should join us next year.

*Yomp has two meanings in the Royal Navy it can (and used to mean) to eat, but once the Royal Marines landed on the Falkland Islands in 1982, it's other meaning took precedence and entered popular culture. It means to walk across country, usually burdened with a small house, no sleep, and a pair of underpants that passeth all understanding.

People Just Want to Know

There's a great deal of fun and of satisfaction being a Submarine Guide on HMS ALLIANCE. I suspect these feelings are also felt by enthusiastic guides at either attractions and sites. Today was no exception. I took two tours through the submarine, both of which were really well received. People find the experience a real eye-opener as they (probably for the only time in their life) get to walk through a submarine and witness the conditions in which submariners used to live. They enjoy both hearing about the way submariners would live and of some of their experiences.

But it's also a pleasure for us guides because of the people we meet. As an example, today I had people who went out of their way to come and say 'thank you' after their tour. There was a American engineer working here in the UK with whom a colleague and I had a pleasant conversation that ranged from gun control to US submarine museums. Another couple were directly related to one of the casualties on HMS THETIS. Others today would have spent ages talking about aspects of submarine life revealed to them.

If you're a submariner reading this then come and become a guide at the Royal Navy Submarine Museum. If your someone with a keen interest or experience in a particular field and not already involved, get involved! People just want to know.

When One Door Closes

When one door closes, the draught blows the light at the end of the tunnel out, and you have to spend time fumbling for the matches before you can start your journey again

Nurse Training

It's good news that trainee nurses are to spend more time on 'Basic Nusring Care'. I've said many times that there should be less emphasis on the academic and more on the practical. After all, it's much more useful to a patient for a nurse to be able to stop a patient's pressure area breaking down, than for them to read about that nurse's reaction to the necrosing tissue.

Unfortunately......

It's gotten to the point now that when I receive a reply from a potential employer, the first thing I do is I scan it for the word 'unfortunately' rather than actually read the response.

Now that's not good is it? But do any of my similarly long time job seeking readers do the same?

Christmas In Basra

After 27 years in the Navy I had finally got to deploy on an operational tour (not including my time on 'bombers'. I had been given desert combats, ID tags, a gun and everything. All the Booties and modern day MAs will be giving a big yawn at this but I had missed every scrap since 1973 through no fault of my own and I really wanted to do this; Mrs C less so.

We landed at Basra airport late at night on 11 December in a charter aircraft and with the aircraft being only about a third full we could all have a second (a third for some) in-flight meal and stretch out over 3 seats. As we walked across the apron in the 'a-lot-warmer-than-Brize-Norton' night air, I could see that this was a modern airport which had been abandoned by the builders at the 65% complete point. After we received an induction on some dos and don'ts, I was met by a TA RAMC MSO Captain, who got me into the Headquarters and showed me where I was to sleep for the first night - an inner office with no air conditioning and holes beaten into the walls to the next offices.

After a sweaty few hours sleep, it was through the swing doors into the headquarters of HQ Multinational Division (South East) (HQ MND (SE)). What I actually walked into was a very large, windowless airport terminal with subdued lighting. The place was full of PCs, desks, wiring looms, desert DPM, carpet and pongoes of many nationalities. Admittedly there was a good handful of Crabs, but my presence increased the RN presence by a staggering 33%, and the Submarine Service presence by 100%.I was shown where everything was and promptly forgot, and met the J4 Med bunch with which I would be working, including a great Dutch Major Theo van der Zanden, and Commander Medical, Colonel Ewan Carmichael, an Army dentist and now Director General Army Medical Services as a Major General. I was allocated my tent which I shared with 3 Crabs..er..RAF officers, 2 Italians and a US Army officer, and made myself at home.

Two days into the tour and I was extended an invitation to go into Basra city with Theo and I duly accepted. With body armour and weapon in place, I walked up to the left hand side of the Land Rover Discovery, realised that it was left-hand drive and moved to the right hand side. Theo stopped that and told me I was driving. So on my first ever trip to Basra I'm driving a left-hand drive automatic 4x4, mostly on the left hand side of the road (Iraqi lorry drivers drive their lorries using a random number generator to determine which side of the road to to drive on any particular day), with a pistol under my left thigh, and learning the drills for driving under bridges or when slowing down in the city.

Christmas decorations were already being put up
when I arrived and it wasn't long before the whole of the terminal..--.the headquarters was festooned with the usual garlands baubles, cards and figurines. The joy of having the Italians with us was that they provided panetonne. Big ones. Always nice to grab a chunk when getting coffee (Douwe Egberts courtesy of our Dutch chums). Daily working routine was 0800 - 2000, except for Sundays when it was brunch and a 1000 start and we would be working Sunday routine on Christmas day; otherwise, all other activities such as patrols in the city or of the airfield perimeter didn't change. As Christmas day approached our gift boxes from major companies back home arrived, and the usual surge in cards and personal gift boxes happened in Iraq as well. On Christmas Eve, there was to be a Midnight mass in the main hall of the airport. Many attended, and so did the press. It all seemed a little unusual but went well. When one of the patrols returned they came into the hall and were photographed in all their kit holding candles by the Christmas tree. I took a picture but my little Nokia 7250 phone wasn't really up to the job.

After the service, it was on with the body armour and a solitary walk back to the tent. As I walked past the overhead road gantries with their bilingual signs and the modern,air traffic control tower with its Christmassy greeting, I briefly pondered on my situation, about my family back home, knowing they would be missing me, and how ever so slightly bizarre the whole thing seemed. Christmas Day with its welcome lie-in arrived and once at work and after the daily routines had been done, it was into the gift boxes and enjoying the Christmas spirit. Each of the corporate boxes contained a red hat of some description and I still have mine.

Cmdr Med had been on a shopping trip and he had bought everyone in the section a shemagh, and after some swift instruction, we all donned them. The day was spent doing not much at all, other than chatting, swapping jokes and messages, and occasionally taking updates from the outlying units. There was a surprisingly good selection of Christmas nibbles, and some....er.. 'blackcurrant juice' had also been obtained. A Christmas film was watched on a laptop; a pirate copy of Finding Nemo, if I recall -$2 in Kuwait. Christmas dinner was pretty damned good although I think the Iraqi kitchen staff and cleaners were all pretty bemused by it all.


And then, it was all over. The panettone lasted  few more days. Life continued to be unpleasant in Al Amarah. The decorations came down. And nothing much had really changed.

This piece originally appeared in 'Doc RN' the magazine of the Royal Naval Medical Branch and Sick Berth Staffs Association

Just To Be Safe

"Saw the onchologist (sic) yesterday, need to have a shot of Carboplatin
Deep joy
Just to be safe"

Seventeen words. Written in a fairly chatty way, via the causal medium of Facebook Messenger. Only the person who wrote that and those that have gone before can have any idea of  the significance  Who can know how they're feeling? I certainly don't nor can I even begin to imagine.