Mates
Quote from Cliff_C on December 19, 2023, 8:28 pmNot long after leaving the mob I found myself doing an HSE Part IV diving course. I had always wanted to be a diver, its one of those jobs that looks really interesting and most guys fancy it until the truth sets in! A bit like joining the Army. I did enjoy it and would do it now if I was fitter (a few stone lighter). I still hold the HSE license its useless though without the medical.
There was only four students on the course and even though I haven’t heard from them for many years I still regard them as mates. Diving requires the same comradery as a tank crew, if your buddy doesn’t look after you then something nasty will happen.
One student, a girl (very unusual even now), the other two students were ex-military, one RAF PTI and the other an RN cartographer PO. We had worked together for a few months before the course and had already struck up a bond.
Before doing any diving there is a lot of theory, in particular the three diving laws: Boyles law, Dalton’s law & Charles law. If you don’t understand them then you will die, simple as that. The exam requires that you state the laws word for word perfect, now that doesn’t mean you understand the laws but that’s what you have to do in the exam along with all the other stuff!
I studied like h*ll, the only thing that would catch me was the laws so I spent many hours reciting them.
In the exam we were allowed to take in a note book so that we could write down any calculations. The invigilator would inspect these prior to starting the exam.
I narrowly passed the exam, I found it very stressful (the laws). The two guys were finished, up and out way before me. I just thought they must be a lot more intellectual than me.
About ten years later I am in the bar with one of those guys and I mentioned how hard the test was and how intelligent he must be to have finished so quick. That was when he confessed, both of them had written down the laws at the back of their note pads, only the front few pages had been searched by the invigilator. I couldn’t believe it, it still annoys me now, the sods. I can forgive the cheating but I will never forgive them for not letting me in on the act. I have always been too honest or maybe I should have had the sense to cheat.
They are still mates though but.! That’s the RAF/Navy for you.
Cliff
Not long after leaving the mob I found myself doing an HSE Part IV diving course. I had always wanted to be a diver, its one of those jobs that looks really interesting and most guys fancy it until the truth sets in! A bit like joining the Army. I did enjoy it and would do it now if I was fitter (a few stone lighter). I still hold the HSE license its useless though without the medical.
There was only four students on the course and even though I haven’t heard from them for many years I still regard them as mates. Diving requires the same comradery as a tank crew, if your buddy doesn’t look after you then something nasty will happen.
One student, a girl (very unusual even now), the other two students were ex-military, one RAF PTI and the other an RN cartographer PO. We had worked together for a few months before the course and had already struck up a bond.
Before doing any diving there is a lot of theory, in particular the three diving laws: Boyles law, Dalton’s law & Charles law. If you don’t understand them then you will die, simple as that. The exam requires that you state the laws word for word perfect, now that doesn’t mean you understand the laws but that’s what you have to do in the exam along with all the other stuff!
I studied like h*ll, the only thing that would catch me was the laws so I spent many hours reciting them.
In the exam we were allowed to take in a note book so that we could write down any calculations. The invigilator would inspect these prior to starting the exam.
I narrowly passed the exam, I found it very stressful (the laws). The two guys were finished, up and out way before me. I just thought they must be a lot more intellectual than me.
About ten years later I am in the bar with one of those guys and I mentioned how hard the test was and how intelligent he must be to have finished so quick. That was when he confessed, both of them had written down the laws at the back of their note pads, only the front few pages had been searched by the invigilator. I couldn’t believe it, it still annoys me now, the sods. I can forgive the cheating but I will never forgive them for not letting me in on the act. I have always been too honest or maybe I should have had the sense to cheat.
They are still mates though but.! That’s the RAF/Navy for you.
Cliff
Quote from DavidFullard on December 19, 2023, 9:41 pmGreat story Cliff.
Mates: I have had mixed experiences with mates. I have never been a ‘player’ as such. I look on fb and see ex regimental members with hundreds of ‘friends’ from our service days. I have only recently begun to accept ‘friend’ requests. It takes me a good while to make friends. I am a terrible ‘old comrade’ in 30 years post military service I have attended 3 branch dinners and nothing else.
As a civilian I had a close friend of 20 + years. Mick lived next door. He lost his wife aged 40. V and I looked after him for over a year while he grieved and came to terms with his loss. We even took him on holiday with us to Singapore, we fed him, I drank with him ( too much too frequently) I stayed with him when he was depressed and grieving and we were just there for him….as real mates are. 2 years after his wife died he remarried and moved house. We stayed friends and met up 6/7/ times a month, had supper at each others’ house etc etc. Then we lost Diana, It hit us unbelievably hard. Mick and wife went awol, we heard not a squeak from them for nearly a year. Then one day he turned up at our front door unannounced sheepish, embarrassed and apologetic, We tried to resurrect the friendship but after a month or so I ditched him. Friends don’t treat each other in that way. There was no going back. We have never spoken once in the 6 years since, he is dead to me. A friend in need is a friend….you don’t need, was his motto I guess.
Fast forward 4 years to my own cancer battle. My 2 other close friends were magnificent, Roger had moved in next door in Mick’s old house. A 37 year R. Sigs WO1, Roger drove me to every one of my chemo appointments, blood sessions, CTs etc etc. My treatment centre was 26 miles from home. On Chemo days Roger would make 2 double journeys every 2 weeks. He waited hours in that hospital for me on countless occasions. I was always nauseous after chemo and sat in Roger’s 350 SE Mercedes with a sick bowl and he never batted an eyelid even when I dry retched. I reckon over the 6 months of chemotherapy treatment he drove 2000 miles ferrying me back and forth for treatments.
Then there is my other close friend Dr Brian Crompton. Brian was my Medical Director when I was a NHS PCT CE. After I retired early Brian drove 45 miles from his home in Skegness to meet me for lunch once every month. When my cancer surgery looked tenuous on the Covid strapped NHS, I was arranging a private operation in London at a cost of £28k! Brian not only offered money ( we were ok for money) but he insisted he would drive me to London and collect me after the operation. In the event I had my surgery in a NHS Hospital.
They say you learn who your true friends are when you need them, Roger and Brian are THE best mates anyone could wish for! Brian still meets me for lunch every month and has done since 2007! I count JKW as my 3rd close friend, as an erstwhile much less adept army boxer than John he was a bit of a hero for me from my JLR days onwards. Along with Marty Graham, John is one of the very few ex comrades I respected enough to want to emulate.
Great story Cliff.
Mates: I have had mixed experiences with mates. I have never been a ‘player’ as such. I look on fb and see ex regimental members with hundreds of ‘friends’ from our service days. I have only recently begun to accept ‘friend’ requests. It takes me a good while to make friends. I am a terrible ‘old comrade’ in 30 years post military service I have attended 3 branch dinners and nothing else.
As a civilian I had a close friend of 20 + years. Mick lived next door. He lost his wife aged 40. V and I looked after him for over a year while he grieved and came to terms with his loss. We even took him on holiday with us to Singapore, we fed him, I drank with him ( too much too frequently) I stayed with him when he was depressed and grieving and we were just there for him….as real mates are. 2 years after his wife died he remarried and moved house. We stayed friends and met up 6/7/ times a month, had supper at each others’ house etc etc. Then we lost Diana, It hit us unbelievably hard. Mick and wife went awol, we heard not a squeak from them for nearly a year. Then one day he turned up at our front door unannounced sheepish, embarrassed and apologetic, We tried to resurrect the friendship but after a month or so I ditched him. Friends don’t treat each other in that way. There was no going back. We have never spoken once in the 6 years since, he is dead to me. A friend in need is a friend….you don’t need, was his motto I guess.
Fast forward 4 years to my own cancer battle. My 2 other close friends were magnificent, Roger had moved in next door in Mick’s old house. A 37 year R. Sigs WO1, Roger drove me to every one of my chemo appointments, blood sessions, CTs etc etc. My treatment centre was 26 miles from home. On Chemo days Roger would make 2 double journeys every 2 weeks. He waited hours in that hospital for me on countless occasions. I was always nauseous after chemo and sat in Roger’s 350 SE Mercedes with a sick bowl and he never batted an eyelid even when I dry retched. I reckon over the 6 months of chemotherapy treatment he drove 2000 miles ferrying me back and forth for treatments.
Then there is my other close friend Dr Brian Crompton. Brian was my Medical Director when I was a NHS PCT CE. After I retired early Brian drove 45 miles from his home in Skegness to meet me for lunch once every month. When my cancer surgery looked tenuous on the Covid strapped NHS, I was arranging a private operation in London at a cost of £28k! Brian not only offered money ( we were ok for money) but he insisted he would drive me to London and collect me after the operation. In the event I had my surgery in a NHS Hospital.
They say you learn who your true friends are when you need them, Roger and Brian are THE best mates anyone could wish for! Brian still meets me for lunch every month and has done since 2007! I count JKW as my 3rd close friend, as an erstwhile much less adept army boxer than John he was a bit of a hero for me from my JLR days onwards. Along with Marty Graham, John is one of the very few ex comrades I respected enough to want to emulate.