'The Officer's Mess get puddin' an' pie
and we get all the fat gollie.
The Officer's Mess get puddin' an' pie
and we get all the fat gollie.
Poor buggers are we
Poor buggers are we
The Officer's Mess get puddin' an' pie
and we get all the fat gollie.'

So went the doggerel which accompanied the bugle call 'Officer's Mess'. Paradoxically, this particular bugle call had nothing to do with the officer's mess from the victualling point of view, it was merely the bugle call which was used to summon the officers to a staff meeting. However, for many of us, there was a certain amount of truth, injustice, and general dissatisfaction incorporated within the lines, and this was one way in which we could vent our feelings on the matter without being seen to be complaining. There was no recognised avenue for complaints other than a direct approach to the Captain, and I never met a boy there who had the nerve to do that!

Even I, who would rate the food as the biggest cause for my own dissatisfaction during my stay at the school, could not in truth say that the food was at the level of slop or swill. The 'Fat Gollie' referred to in the chant above, was the seemingly excessive amounts of fat which always accompanied any meat which we found on our plates. There were of course, those who liked fat and gristle, and to sit near one at the dinner table was a stroke of good fortune, because it meant one could off load one's 'fat gollie' on to his ever empty plate.

This was necessary, because sometimes the officer in charge of the meal would come around telling us to eat our meat and greens up. Greens were served invariably in the form of dark green cabbage leaves. However, the cabbage was not as revolting as the meat, and if we were 'under surveillance', it could be forced down even with an appearance of enjoyment! Indeed, Matron herself sometimes toured the dining tables at meal times to see how the food was being consumed. It is likely that she had a hand in the dietary planning. When Matron came around, absolutely everything had to be cleared from one's plate, even if it meant wrapping the unwanted food up in one's handkerchief, and putting it in one's pocket for later disposal! It was fatal to have anything lying idle on one's plate when Matron arrived, because she would stand there until it was eaten.

Another of my major dislikes was porridge. At home I used to eat hot porridge on winter mornings with milk and sugar added to my plate, so I didn't actually dislike it. At the school, it bore the distinctly unpalatable, unappetising, and slightly disgusting name of 'skidgee', or sometimes, 'burgoo'. It was invariably served up cold - although this was a function of the logistics of getting the boys to the table at the same time as the food rather than any fault of the galley - and naturally, there was neither hot milk nor a sugar bowl passed around. What landed on your plate was what you ate. It looked - and from the exceedingly rare occasions when I was obliged to taste, it tasted - like a lump of putty with goose pimples. We were slightly more fortunate with the porridge than we were with the meat, because there were more boys who actually liked it. Some of them would trade you a dork or a half a dork, depending on 'market forces', for the privilege of eating one's unwanted porridge. Presumably from the point of view that another plate of porridge was more filling than a slice of bread, (which it probably was).

Apart from these two major dislikes, the rest of the food served up to us was from my point of view, edible, predictable, bland, and unappetising,. Although I suspect that the people who were responsible for our dietary needs would have called it nutritious,...balanced,...appetising,...and palatable good wholesome food which contained all the nourishment a growing boy needed. I'm sure they were right.

During my time at the school, I suffered a lot of boils, and if I cut myself, or broke my skin after a fall, the wound invariably turned septic. On reporting to Sick Bay, the first thing Matron used to ask was, 'Are you eating all your greens?' The question was rhetorical because I'm sure she knew the answer before she asked it. Along with several other boys I was put on a daily dose of 'Tonic', a sweet substance which had to be swallowed in front of the Matron or Sister.

'Afters' consisted variously of, sago, tapioca, rhubarb and custard, prunes and custard, sometimes rice pudding. A popular favourite was 'ginger duff'. Ginger Duff was a steamed pudding, and it could be served in either of two ways. The first, and proper way, was when the steam had been successfully excluded from the pudding during the cooking procedure. This gave us a dry, even crusty, but spongy pudding. The second way was when the steam had not been successfully excluded from the pudding during the cooking process, and the pudding, or at least the top half of it was served up as a soggy mess!

One meal which I remember almost with pleasure was boiled new potatoes, two slices of tinned corned beef, and a spoonful of piccalilli, a sort of pickle preserved in mustard. It was always very tasty for me.

From the meal at tea time, one could almost tell which day of the week it was just by looking at the tea table. On Wednesdays, we had Rock Cakes, on Saturdays we had Sticky Buns, known appropriately as Saturday Buns. On Sundays we had fruit cake. On other evenings we had variously; cheese, jam, dates or potted meat. I don't think these meals varied very much at all during the three and a half years I was at the school. With the aforesaid cakes, went two, or sometimes three, dorks of bread and a small pat of margarine, plus the inevitable cups of 'booze'. During the winter months, when we had a movie on a Wednesday night, we would save our rock cake in our handkerchief, to be later savoured, crumb by crumb, and currant by currant, in the dark, during the film.

Sometimes we had dates for tea, this would consist of about five or six dates on one's plate. These were very sweet, and were always accompanied by three dorks plus the mandatory pat of margarine.

Supper consisted of a single 'dork' - spread with dripping - and a cup of cocoa. Quite often at supper, there was no time for the niceties of table cloths. At these times, the required numbers of dorks would be put on the bare wooden top of the table at regular spaces. Each dork, together with the mug of cocoa, denoting a 'place' This was supper year in and year out. It never varied.

All of this food, - bread, cakes, dates, etc., was highly tradable, and was considered as currency by the boys. Many jobs had a their price, depending on the needs of the vendor and the vendee. It was possible to have one's boots cleaned, to buy loose tobacco, (and I mean tobacco, - cigarette ends which had been picked up from the street whilst boys were ashore, and broken down into loose tobacco). There was very little which could not be bartered for food.

A constant theme at meal times was the officer's command for silence. Not that we were not allowed to talk at all, but the conversation would rise to such a pitch that the officer in charge would call for silence. This sort of table discipline was usually left to the divisional PO's and Leading Boys who sat at the head of the tables. Some officers were more severe than others, and when the more severe officers were on duty, meals were sometimes conducted in almost total silence. As with most situations, the boys knew just how far they could go with each officer, and usually reacted accordingly.

When we went ashore, the first boys into the High Street could often get a large bag of broken biscuits for a few pence from the bakers shop in the High Street. Another practice was for two or three boys to club together, and buy a loaf of bread - about four pence in those days for a 2 pound loaf - the same price as a packet of ten cigarettes. Some boys could afford both, others shared as best they could. The bread, (always fresh,) was broken up, and eaten - or to be more descriptive, wolfed down straight off the loaf.

If we returned to school via the 'Top' (Down) road, and descended Chimney Pot Hill, then there were often fields of turnips, swedes, cabbages, sprouts and other vegetables, depending on the season, which could all be eaten raw. Of course, we could not return to school with any vegetables on us, so it all had to be eaten 'on the spot'. Even cabbage stalks on which sprouts had grown were eaten. The tough, outside case was torn off, exposing a soft, sweetish substance inside. It was all edible, and we were always hungry!