This, along with his rum, was one of the sailor’s chief privileges, and even in those days, when the duty was less than now, was not inconsiderable. Tobacco was issued in two forms, in tins made up either as a pipe or cigarette mixture, or in leaf. The half-pound tins of tobacco were known as “Tickler’s,” after a famous Grimsby firm which had supplied the Navy during the 1914-18 war with jam in somewhat similar tins. Leaf tobacco was made up into “pricks,” a strong black plug which the old-timers preferred to the lighter mixture in “Ticklers.” Making up a “prick” of tobacco was an art in itself, one that was dying out by 1939 and is now completely extinct, leaf tobacco no longer being issued. First the leaves were carefully trimmed and then laid into a hammock-shaped strip of canvas. Some sailors saved a little of their rum issue to dampen the leaves and give them a flavor, while others swore that the spirit in the rum ruined the tobacco. The whole parcel was then lashed up as tightly as possible and left for some weeks, or even months, for the leaves to mature and form a solid block.

“Grog,” as every landman knows, is the sailor’s rum issue, called after the nickname of Admiral Vernon, who first decreed that the issue should be diluted with water. The idea behind this dilution was to prevent sailors storing up their rum and then going on a bender—the admixture of water with the rum insuring that it would not keep in the same way as the pure spirit. Chief and petty officers alone were allowed the privilege of drawing “neaters” (neat rum), three parts water to one of spirit being the issue for all other ratings. On the occasion of a birthday, or if some sailor had had an addition to his family, or, perhaps, done some unwelcome chore for another, the cry would go up that he wanted “sippers.” Strictly illegal, since each sailor is supposed to drink his rum in front of the issuing officer (which was not always possible), “sippers” meant that he was entitled to sip from the mug of his messmate.

At this time the Navy was in the process of changing to what was known as “General Messing,” a system whereby the paymaster and his staff were responsible for the planning of all the ship’s meals. The old method had been for each cook of the mess to prepare individual meals for his messmates, taking them to the galley to be cooked. In ships the size of the Hood such a system obviously made for wastage and confusion, and the General Messing system was gradually adopted throughout the fleet. The sailor had his own name for favorite dishes—“duff” was always steamed pudding, a dish which sailors could down with the greatest apparent ease even in tropical conditions. "Tiddey- oggey” was a Cornish pasty, and as such favored by Devonport ratings (who were reputed to be weaned on it). “Pot mess” was any kind of stew. This led to the term becoming part of the sailor’s slang, and being applied to any situation or muddle where it was difficult to see what was going on; for instance, if the ship had come alongside a quay inefficiently it would be said: “The Old Man got himself in a regular ‘pot mess’ this morning.” “Nutty,” a term originally applied to the bars of nut chocolate in which the N.A.A.F.I. canteen specialized, finally came to cover the whole range of chocolates and sweets. “Ky” was always cocoa, a favorite drink of sailors, especially on cold nights, and made in the Navy from heavy slab chocolate flaked down with a knife and added to a mixture of condensed milk, sugar, and boiling water. The finest “ky” makers maintained that, if it was properly made, a spoon placed vertical in the center of the cup would hesitate for a moment before falling slowly and gently to the side. “Goffers” was the sailor’s generic term for all soft drinks. In hot weather when the N.A.A.F.I. would open a side hatch for the supply of orange, lime, and lemon drinks, this section became known as the “goffer bar.” Because of its association with something soft and nonalcoholic, the expression “He’s only good for goffers!” became a term of abuse.

Sailors’ language, as was natural among a specialized race of men, contained innumerable slang terms and words, so much so that conversation on the lowerdeck would have been almost incomprehensible to an outsider. “The jaunty,” or “johnty,” was the master-at-arms, a much maligned chief petty officer who was in charge of the ship’s regulating staff and, consequently, responsible for its discipline. “The jaunty” was always present at the reading out of all warrants, whenever a sailor was sentenced to detention or other disciplinary measures. The petty officers who worked on the regulating staff were known as “crushers,” the name supposedly dating back to the old days when naval ships were full of cockroaches. It was said that the stealthy tread of the regulating staff checking the ship for misdemeanors could be detected by the regular crunch-crunch-crunch of their “beetle crushers” (feet) on the cockroach-paved decks.

“My party” was the sailor’s name for his regular girl or fiancee, and “my oppo” for his “opposite number” or dose friend.

“Towney,” an expression of regard, was accorded to those who came from the same town or village. Inhabitants of Liverpool were always known as “Scouse,”*

 

*From lobscouse, a kind of hash served aboard sailing ships in the nineteenth century.

 

all Welshmen as “Taff,” Scots as “Jock,” and Irish as “Paddy.” Individual names also had their relevant “tallies”—Clarke being “Nobby,” White “Shiner,” Green “Jimmy” Adams “Fanny,” and so on. The three remaining establishments from which ratings were drawn also had their nicknames: “Chatty'’ for (Dirty) Chatham, “Pompey” for Portsmouth, and “Guz” for Devonport

In charge of each mess was a leading seaman, known as a “killick” (little anchor) from the badge on his arm. He was responsible for seeing that the men under him kept their mess clean and tidy. As well as checking the neat stowage of the hammocks, he had to see that all the kitchen gear and implements allocated to them were spotlessly dean and sufficient in numbers.