LEEUWIN SURVEY REPORT


  • Report of a Survey of ex-Junior Recruits who attended the RAN Training Facility – HMAS LEEUWIN

    Preface

    I became a Junior Recruit (JR) and was posted to HMAS Leeuwin at the age of fifteen. Despite having experience of neither boys’ boarding schools nor Navy Cadets, I retrospectively imagine Leeuwin as a cross between the two. I disliked the discipline, but quickly learnt to fly under the radar and avoid activities that may have resulted in ‘chooks’. I don’t regard my year there with fondness; nor do I look back in anger. Although I sought, and was granted, a free discharge from the Navy prior to completion of my twelve-year term of enlistment, I’ve never regretted my time in ‘Pusser’s’ and am so glad I served my first year at Leeuwin. It was just the right foundation for a satisfying career and a fortunate life.
    In 2020, I was one of a number of ex-JRs who responded to a list of survey questions addressing our time at Leeuwin. The survey was devised and issued by ex-JR, Ron Giveen, who subsequently compiled a numerical table and developed a pie chart for the answers given for each question. When Ron asked whether I would assist in producing a report of the survey, I was only too pleased to do so. Because responses had been given to Ron in confidence, he scrubbed the names and other identifying details before forwarding to me.

    Michael Shephard (ex-Leeuwin JR of 1963).


    Co-contributors

    CMDR Ken Railton RAN, OAM, BA (Admin), Grad Dip (Admin)
    Cmdr Railton obtained a teacher’s certificate and joined the RAN as an Instructor Officer in 1960. His leading roles in training, organisational change and development of training systems included a posting as a Training Officer (and Assistant Divisional Officer) in HMAS Leeuwin from 1962 to 1964, where he dedicated his time to supporting Junior Recruits in achieving their potential in both education and sports. After leaving the RAN in 1983 he continued his career as an organizational change and training consultant to many clients such as the RAN, foreign navies, state governments and the automotive industry, retiring from full-time work in 2007. His personal sporting achievements included rowing titles at state, country and international levels, and selection for WA and Victorian rugby squads. He continued his involvement with the service and ex-service community and, in 2007, was awarded an OAM for service to the welfare of current and former service personnel and their families. Sadly, Cmdr Railton did not live to see the completion of the work he initiated (i.e. this report). He passed over the bar in 2020.

    Warrant Officer Ron Giveen OAM, OAM(Mil)
    Ron Giveen enlisted as a Junior Recruit, undertaking basic training in Fremantle WA at HMAS Leeuwin (Jan-Dec 1963). He served in HMAS Melbourne (on three occasions), HMAS Brisbane, HMAS Parramatta, HMAS Canberra, HMAS Success and HMAS Newcastle. He served in both permanent and reserve service capacities until 2009. He was awarded an OAM in 1993 for his work in HMAS Success and then again in 2020 for his work in assisting the community and the veteran community. He is still actively involved with the Leeuwin 1963 community http://hmas-leeuwin-1963.com/, and remains the curator of the RAN Rugby Collection which is located in HMAS Kuttabul https://www.ranrugby.com.

    Michael Shephard, BA (Computing), Grad Dip (Accounting)
    Michael Shephard joined the RAN as a Junior Recruit and trained at HMAS Leeuwin in 1963. He served on HMAS Melbourne (1964) and HMAS Parramatta (1966-7)., He discharged in 1971 after the ‘Data’ rate became redundant to RAN requirements. During a career in Information Technology, he was employed by the Australian Public Service, Computer Sciences Corporation and IBM before becoming a private consultant. His clients included Federal and state government departments and telecommunications companies, and he specialised in managing large infrastructure migration and replacement projects for banks. Before retiring to pursue, with his wife, their hobbies of photo-art, creative writing, and travel he studied at the Photography Studies College of Melbourne.


    Table of Contents

         Preface and Co-contributors                                           1Author’s Note

    • Executive Summary                                                        4
    • Background                                                                   5
    • Purpose of this Survey                                                    5
    • Conducting the Survey                                                   6
    • Bullying and Abuse                                                        6
    • List of Questions                                                            7
    • Observations and Conclusions                                        8
    • Bibliography                                                                  9                                          

  • Appendix 1: Data Analysis                                                  10
  • Appendix 2: Narrative Responses to Each Question             23
  • Appendix 3: Glossary of Terms                                            73
    • What did you expect to get out of Leeuwin?
    • Did you enjoy your 1st three months at Leeuwin, when did it dawn on you that you were in the RAN for 12 years not 12 minutes and how did you react?
    • What was your favourite activity?
    • How beneficial was the additional education we received in later life? Do you think it helped in your career?
    • Did you enjoy the Navigation classes; how about the Speed-reading sessions?
    • Did you enjoy the other Instruction at the school like English, Maths and Physics?
    • What didn’t you like about the routines? Getting up at dawn, perhaps? Or no leave for the first 6 weeks?
    • Did you like compulsory church, remember the milkshakes at the local cafe or Seaman’s Mission?
    • Did you at anytime think of discharging when at Leeuwin?
    • When did you decide on what category you wished to pursue? Did you get allocated that category?
    • Did you enjoy the Friday night dances?
    • Did you enjoy the sports and the compulsory cross-country?
    • Did you enjoy the seamanship and ABCD?
    • Did you mind wearing pusser’s clothes that didn’t necessarily fit?
    • Did you like doing your own dhobying and ironing? Spit polishing your boots?
    • Did Leeuwin practices alter your personality and help you mature?
    • Did you leave Leeuwin in a better frame of mind than when you joined?
    • Would you like your time again in Leeuwin?
    • Do you think Leeuwin served its purpose in readying you for the Fleet?
    • Are you involved in any Service Organisation now?
    • Other comments.
  • 7.0 Observations and Conclusions
    Some of the questions in the list above addressed various likes and dislikes that ex-JRs may have relating to their time at Leeuwin. The questions that addressed what they thought of Leeuwin as a whole, whether they ever contemplated discharge from the Navy during that year, whether Leeuwin had a positive influence on their future lives and careers, whether it made them more mature or put them in a better frame of mind, and whether they would do it all again are the important questions. These are Questions 2, 4, 9, 16, 17, 18 and 19. Responses to all of these questions indicate that anare overwhelming majority of respondents hold positive views of their timely  at Leeuwinpositive (see Appendices 1 and 2).
    Question 2 indicates that 91% of respondents enjoyed their first three months and, through their comments reproduced in Appendix 2 ofto this report, it is apparent that most also enjoyed the other nine months of their year at Leeuwin.
    Whilst other questions reveal that many respondents disliked particular educational subjects or thought them a waste of time, Question 4 shows that 75% of respondents consider that, in general, their education at Leeuwin assisted their Naval careers, and 71% consider their education assisted their post-Naval careers.
    In answers to Question 9, none of the respondents indicated they ever thought of seeking a discharge from the Navy during the year. Some said they didn’t know one could, and it certainly wasn’t presented to JRs as an option (we had signed on the dotted line for twelve years). Nevertheless, it is notable that no onene can recall even consideringed the prospect. Of course, it’s possible that some of those who elected not to respond to the survey, or could not be traced because they are not participants in the ex-Service community,  may have considered seeking a discharge at some stage.
    Question 16 is about whether Leeuwin changed respondents’ personalities and / or helped them mature. While some personalities can, and do, change over a long period of time, it would be unusual for any major change to occur within a short period such as a year. Some respondents picked up on this, and indicated that their personalities didn’t change, but that their maturity did. One respondent inferred that in cases where a JR was not accepted by his peers, his personality was probably subdued and not allowed to develop. All in all, 91% said that their personality changed (for the better) and / or they became more mature.
                Question 17 asks whether respondents left Leeuwin in a better frame of mind than when they joined. 97% said they did. From the narrative answers in Appendix 2, some left Leeuwin in the frame of mind that they were all trained up and ready to take on the world. Others were happy because they were finally leaving the training establishment to do what they enlisted to do – join the Fleet (and start receiving full pay). One response was about seeing a dockyard worker falling to his death in a dry dock, and being disturbed by this for some time. Stories such as this (and another elsewhere in Appendix 2 alluding to the impact of the loss of life due to the Melbourne/Voyager collision), whilst not directly relevant to the questions, serve to remind us that there was a total paucity of counseling for young sailors (or, indeed, any sailors) back in the day.
    Question 18 asks whether the respondents would like their time again in Leeuwin. It is an interesting one, in that respondents interpreted this in different ways, e.g. (a) if you had your time all over again, would you still choose to join up and go to Leeuwin as a sixteen year old; (b) knowing what you know today, would you like to do go back and do Leeuwin again as a sixteen year old; and (c) would you like to go to Leeuwin again at your current age. Only 60% indicated they would do it all again... Some said yes, if they were 16 again, knowing what they know now. Others said no, they are too old but it would be good for younger people to do it. The percentage is unreliable, given that some respondents are glad they went to Leeuwin as sixteen year olds, but no, they wouldn’t litheir time there again. Some considered it was good for that time period, but may not be acceptable in today’s world. One mentioned he would not want to do it again if he was to be on the receiving end of the bastardization he subsequently heard about.
    Question 19, on the other hand, straightforwardly asks whether Leeuwin served its purpose in readying respondents for the Fleet. 80% indicated that Leeuwin served its purpose, while 17% indicated they had reservations due mainly to life in the Fleet being very different to life at Leeuwin.
    A reader would need to peruse the survey response narrative comments in Appendix 2 to get an overall appreciation of the regard most respondents have for Leeuwin and their time there. It is notable that many of them still keep in touch and socialize with other ex-JRs from the same period, despite moving on to different units after Leeuwin.
    From the high percentages of positive responses shown in the pie charts of Appendix 1, and the comments in Appendix 2, it is clear that most ex-JRs in the participation group have largely favourable memories of HMAS Leeuwin. Of course, many of those who are not in the participation group (either because they could not be traced as they no longer connect with other ex-JRs, or they elected not to respond) are, perhaps, less likely to regard their time at Leeuwin favourably.


    8.0 Bibliography

    T. Rapke, Records of an Inquiry into Events that Allegedly Occurred at HMAS Leeuwin and Onboard HMAS Sydney, May and July, 1971

    Commonwealth of Australia, Defence Abuse Response Taskforce, Report on Abuse on HMAS Leeuwin, June 2014




    • Over half of the respondents expected to start a new life and/or embark on an adventure. Others expected to further their education, and experience Naval training. Some expected justnaval training, and were surprised to be studying normal school subjects. There were a few who merely expected to escape from their home life or country towns. 11% had no idea what to expect.

      Q2: Did you enjoy your 1st three months at Leeuwin, when did it dawn on you that you were in the RAN for 12 years not 12 minutes and how did you react?
      91% enjoyed their first three months and, through their comments, it is apparent that most continued to enjoy the rest of their year at Leeuwin. Most were unconcerned that they had signed up for twelve years, and many did not even think about it.

      Q3: What was your favourite activity?
                
        

      Unsurprisingly, Sport leads the way with 51%. Seamanship, recreation and parade training, in total, make up another 40%. Very few listed Education as their favourite activity.

      Q4(a): How beneficial was the additional education we received in later life?

      71% considered the education received at Leeuwin helped in later life; 20% did not. From the comments, it would seem that the education was appreciated more when looking back than it was at the time.

      Q4(b): Do you think it [formal education] helped in your career?

      75% considered the education received at Leeuwin helped their Naval careers; while 19% did not. Those in the latter group had a high correlation with those who considered that the education did not help in later life, i.e. Q4(a).

      Q5(a): Did you enjoy the Navigation classes?

      78% liked the Navigation classes; 12% did not. It is knowledge that few would have used after the course, as it was generally the purview of seaman officers. A few indicated that the lessons learnt here helped them in later life, e.g. aircraft pilots and yachties.

      Q5(b) How about [did you enjoy] the Speed-reading sessions?

      44% liked the Speed Reading classes; 20% did not; and 4% struggled with it. It was one of those subjects that you either loved or hated. That 32% cannot remember doing it leads one to suppose that it was not a subject that everyone had to do.


      Q6: Did you enjoy the other Instruction at the school like English, Maths and Physics?

       

      55% liked one or more of the English, Maths and Physics classes; 45% disliked all of them. Some of those that did not particularly like these subjects could still see value in doing t

       

      Q7: What didn’t you like about the routines? Getting up at dawn, perhaps? Or no leave for the first 6 weeks?

      49% liked the routines; while 35% were ambivalent. Quite a few found having to get up early every day (including weekends) a bit of a shock. From their comments it is evident that many just accepted routines as part of life in the Navy. Unsurprisingly, a few expressed a dislike for punishment routines.

      Q8: Did you like compulsory church, remember the milkshakes at the local cafe or Seaman’s Mission?

      20% liked the compulsory church on Sundays; 39% were OK with it; 34% disliked it. Many said it got them off the base, others enjoyed the march to the church. Some enjoyed moving on after church to places such as the Seaman’s Mission.

      Q9: Did you at anytime think of discharging when at Leeuwin?

      No respondents admitted to harbouring thoughts of leaving the RAN during their year at Leeuwin. Perhaps those that wanted to leave the RAN that early are part of the ex-JR population that, for whatever reason, elected not to respond to the survey or were unaware of it.

      Q10: When did you decide on what category you wished to pursue? Did you get allocated that category?

      88% got the rate category that they wanted; 12% did not. This was often a question of timing – it frequently depended on what rate categories were short of personnel at the time.

      Q11: Did you enjoy the Friday night dances?

      50% enjoyed the Friday night dances; 21% did not; 16% did not attend because they were either too shy, couldn’t dance, or both. As attendance was not compulsory, it is somewhat surprising that 21% attended even though did not enjoy the experience. A number of respondents said they were unaware of Friday night dances. Answers to this question show that many of us were just awkward adolescents in uniform.

      Q12(a): Did you enjoy the sports?

      94% liked sports; 6% did not. This result correlates with that of Question 3, where 51% of respondents listed sports as their favourite activity. Many strong bonds between JRs and staff seemed to be formed through a JR being good at sport, e.g. Rugby and Rowing.

      Q12(b): [Did you enjoy] … the compulsory cross-country?

      46% liked cross-country runs; 42% did not. 12% did not like one particular Physical Training Instructor who would make everyone do the cross-country run again whenever anyone took a short cut or exceeded his time limit.

      Q13: Did you enjoy the seamanship and ABCD?

      94% liked seamanship and damage control drill (ABCD), correlating with Question 3 on favourite activities. It should nNot be surprising that most of those who joined the Navy would like seamanship.

      Q14: Did you mind wearing pusser’s clothes that didn’t necessarily fit?

       

      With the exception of shoes, 97% were OK with wearing the uniform, ill fitting or not. 9% were not OK with ill-fitting shoes, and four indicated that their feet were affected throughout their lives. Several admitted that they bought tiddly uniforms (fitted better and looked better) in the civilian shops once they were out in the Fleet.

       

      Q15: Did you like doing your own dhobying and ironing? Spit polishing your boots?

      70% either loved it, or just accepted it as part of being in the Navy. 14% disliked some chores but not others. Many revealed that they still do washing and/or ironing today, and some even consider it made them more popular with females! Several indicated that they weren’t that excited about spit polishing boots.

      Q16: Did Leeuwin practices alter your personality and help you mature?

      91% considered that their year at Leeuwin changed their personality for the better and/or they gained in maturity. Some said that their personality didn’t change, however they certainly left as more mature young men.


      Q17: Did you leave Leeuwin in a better frame of mind than when you joined?

      97% said they left in a better frame of mind, but several of those providing positive responses found the subject complex, with a number providing thoughtful and qualified responses.

      Q18: Would you like your time again in Leeuwin?

      60% indicated they would do it all again. But respondents tended to interpret this question differently - the comments in Appendix 2 show this. Some said yes, if they were 16 again, knowing what they know now. Others said no, they are too old but it would be good for younger people to do it. Some considered it was good for that time period, but may not be acceptable in today’s world. One mentioned he would not want to do it again if he was to be on the receiving end of the bastardization he has heard about.

      Q19: Do you think Leeuwin served its purpose in readying you for the Fleet?

      80% indicated that Leeuwin served its purpose, while 17% indicated they had reservations due mainly to life in the Fleet being very different to life at Leeuwin.

      Q20: Are you involved in any Service Organisation now?

       

      58% are members of the RSL (with some also being members of other service organisations), 23% are members of other service organisations only, while 8% claim to be members of the ex-JR group managed by Ron only. Given that almost  all of these  contacted by Ron ,  are  regular recipients of his newsletters, it is arguable that almost all respondents are members of Ron’s informal group.

       

      Q21: Other Comments

       

      Some comments were made directly under this heading on the survey form, others were moved here by me because they didn’t quite fit where they were put by the respondents. It is notable that, of the eight responses in this category, several acknowledge the role Ron has played in bringing (and keeping) the group together.

       

      Appendix 2: Narrative Responses to Survey Questions

      Not all of these comments are verbatim. Some have been edited to reduce size or (hopefully) slightly improve the spelling and grammar to enhance readability. Modifications have also been made in the interests of anonymity. Other than references to Ron and Ken, the names of superiors, instructors and peers have been removed or genericised. References to specific towns and, occasionally, states have also been modified. Branch names of RSLs and other associations have been omitted.

      The main change, however, was relocating each survey comment to a position under the heading of the question it purports to answer (rather than leaving them grouped by respondent). This has the effect of increasing anonymity.

       

      For any reader curious about the meanings of acronyms or jargon encountered here, the answer may (or, perhaps, may not) lie in Appendix C: Glossary of Terms.

       

      1. What did you expect to get out of Leeuwin?

      • A career in the RAN.
      • Introduction to a career in the RAN.
      • Experience and guidance.
      • A grounding in basic Navy training.
      • At the time, did not know.
      • Wanted to be a Seaman, but that didn’t happen.
      • Travel, excitement and to get away from school.
      • Basic sea training.
      • A life after boarding school.
      • Wasn’t sure, just wanted to join the Navy and be a diver.
      • I had no idea at all.
      • A good basic training, and the basis for a long career.
      • Certainly not high school - hoped at the time I had left that behind.
      • To learn a bit more schooling and find a Navy career.
      • Exactly what we got - schooling and regimented training.
      • Training for a naval career.
      • Not too sure at the time.
      • No preconceptions.
      • A good start to life in the Navy.
      • A job, with schooling.
      • Adventure and a chance to see the world.
      • A career, and a start in a bigger world than the one I was living in.
      • An escape from my home stateTasmania.
      • To escape a small town rural existence.
      • Sport, schooling and a change of life style.
      • Absolutely no idea, all just a big adventure.
      • A stepping-stone to a Navy career.
      • At the age of 16 years I had no idea. It was an adventure.
      • A start to a career in the Navy.
      • Less schooling and more Pusser’s stuff.
      • I had no preconceptions.
      • Further education and improved career prospects.
      • The start of a new life.
      • I didn't know what to expect, other than to become qualified to go to sea.
      • Out of my hometown.
      • Some additional schooling, but mainly the opportunity to be in the Navy.
      • I joined the Navy on a whim. Navy life looked exciting, better than a fitter and turner apprenticeship. I had no expectations at first.
      • I didn’t expect anything in particular. I only wanted to survive and join the Fleet.
      • I just wanted to sail the ocean waves, like my father, my grandfather, my great-grandfather, etc.
      • Didn’t really know. I always wanted to join the Navy since the age of about 10.
      • At the time I wasn’t sure what to expect. I thought it would be a great adventure.
      • The opportunity to be trained in a Naval occupation that I could use in civilian life.
      • I wanted to improve my education, as I was not a good student at high school. 
      • As the son of an Air Force squadron leader, I felt as though I was starting on my life journey.
      • Didn’t really think about it, thought I was carrying on from my father who joined the R.N. during war.
      • Joining Leeuwin got me away from my small hometown, gave me some education and training and high expectations for travelling the world.
      • A new start in life, a long-term job, some excitement, travel the world. I somehow thought I was joining the Navy; instead went back to school.
      • I was in the Sea Cadets before going to Leeuwin, so had a vague idea about what Navy life was all about and just wanted to ‘take it to the next level’.
      • Wasn’t sure what I was getting into but it all worked out OK at the end of the day. Quite an adventure for a 16 y.o. - especially the train trip from Melbourne to Perth.
      • I guess it was the thought of travelling to foreign ports, after listening to my uncle’s tales of runs ashore and him showing me the incredible things he bought in these locations.
      • I thought it was to be a grounding for a Naval career, which I consider it was. In many ways it consolidated my grounding in the Naval Cadets prior to joining.
      • Really wasn’t sure what to expect. To me it was just like going away on a football trip (went with my football clubto the VFL grand final the year before I joined) or a scout camp.
      • I didn’t know what to expect when accepted for Leeuwin. I was not in a good place prior, having left school (midway through 3rd year of high school) and had an attitude that was not the best. I think I expected it to be an adventure!
      • I had no idea what to expect as I had family problems that I wanted to get away from. I had military training prior to joining as I was in the Army Cadets at my high school. I then had to learn how to march in the Navy style.
      • I joined up from country Queensland and was just looking to get out of the place. I applied to be a Mobi but my school results were not up to scratch, so recruiting suggested becoming a JR. That was good enough for me, so away I went.
      • I emigrated with my family from the U.K. in ‘62 and loved the sea voyage, and when the opportunity arose to join Leeuwin after seeing an ad in the paper, I asked my Dad and he said ‘a great idea’.. I think it was about December ‘62, after arriving here in July.
      • The Navy was instilled into me at a very early age, what with my father going to the Greenwich Naval Academy as a boy and my relations serving in the Royal Navy during the 2nd World War. There was no pressure from my father to enter, but when I did decide to join and go to Leeuwin, all my family were very proud.
      • As I had a long desire to join the Navy, entering at an early age seemed attractive to me. I had already applied three times prior to being accepted - twice at Leeuwin and also for the first intake of JRs at Cerberus. I was on standby for the Cerberus intake but fortunately I did not make it. Several postings to Cerberus later on definitely made me detest the rotten place.
      • My parents were dairy farmers north east of Melbourne. My father wanted me to join the Navy; I am not sure why as he had not been in the services himself. I was not selected at the initial selection and my father took me to Williamstown Dockyard for an interview as an electrical fitter and I was accepted to start in 1963. My father passed away one day and my mother received a phone call one week later t that a plane was coming from Sydney to Melbourne that day and I was first reserve. There was a place for me to leave that night. To be honest I don't think I had an expectation of anything except a job.
      • My dad died when I was 6 months old and my Mum did a great job of raising 3 children (2 older sisters). As I reached my teenage years the era of ‘Rock and Roll’ was in full swing, I was going to dances and staying out late - a recipe for possible trouble for a young bloke. I was in 4th form at technical school and enjoyed the trade subjects but had no idea what I wanted to do or what would be a good career for my future. Not sure I remember how the idea of joining the Navy came up, but I'm glad it did. I thought, and my Mum agreed, that it might give me a sense of direction and also a bit of discipline to keep me on the straight and narrow.
      • I was expecting to join in the 6th Intake in January 1963, but, due to illness,  I could not proceed. As I had turned 16 years of age in January 1963, I was lucky to be accepted into the 7th Intake (July 1963). Coming from a military family (father, Army and brother, Navy) I had a good understanding of service life, having spent the whole of my life to then living in military establishments. I had a good background in discipline, military protocols, drill, etc. as my father was an artillery / infantry sergeant major. Read a lot about the Leeuwin and Tingira early years. I believed it would be a good avenue to get fit, and a chance to grow – I was only short when I joined Leeuwin and after Leeuwin in June 1964 I was much taller - but still quite small to my shipmates.

      2. Did you enjoy your 1st three months at Leeuwin, when did it dawn on you that you were in the RAN for 12 years not 12 minutes and how did you react?

      • Yes - before I signed the dotted line.
      • When I posted from Leeuwin to HMAS Sydney.
      • I enjoyed all my time at Leeuwin.
      • I enjoyed it very much.
      • It didn't register with me.
      • Yes, loved it. Didn’t think about the 12 years until much later.
      • Was OK until I had to do punishment detail.
      • Yes, good fun. Did not dwell on the future, other than getting away to sea.
      • I can’t recall that moment, so probably didn’t think it.
      • I was missing home. I knew what I had done.
      • I enjoyed my entire time at Leeuwin with no regrets.
      • I enjoyed all my Leeuwin time.
      • Never thought about it.
      • Yes, but a bit of a shock.
      • I was a bit homesick in the first few weeks but got over it pretty quickly.
      • Easy, straight away.
      • Yes, too busy to get homesick – 12 years went quickly, lots of different jobs.
      • Always knew about the 12 years – enjoyed the first 3 months.
      • Yes, we were reminded several times it was not a short time commitment.
      • Had no comprehension of what 12 yrs was - knew it was a long time.
      • I enjoyed every day of my 12 months at no time did it cross my mind that I had made a bad choice.
      • Initially, I felt a little daunted but still excited to join the RAN and not the Army.
      • Yes really enjoyed the first three months – the combination of discipline, sport and education.
      • Leeuwin was a life changing/forming experience. No surprises re the 12 years bit. Fully cognizant of the 12 years.
      • If I kept my nose clean I’d have a job for 12 years. It was a better prospect than staying in my hometown.
      • I enjoyed the whole year, as a 16 year old you don’t know how long 12 years is.
      • I did enjoy my time at Leeuwin - well most of it anyway. Chooks was a bit rough.
      • Enjoyed the whole time at Leeuwin. Was never worried about signing on for 12 years.
      • Although homesick at first, did not even think about the 12 year term – it was just part of getting ahead.
      • I was quite shocked at the 12 years when I had to sign up at the recruiting centre. I thought 28 when I got out would be ancient.
      • Had a great time, tucker was good and our time was well organised and fully committed.
      • Yep loved it all, the sport especially. The new friendships and seeing Australia was a large country.
      • I had no problems at Leeuwin from staff or from other JRs during my time there.
      • Mostly, the interaction with others was quite new and I don't recall having any thoughts about how long.
      • Have to admit, yes, I did enjoy the first 3 months - getting to know lots of new faces and still, after all these years, call them mates.
      • Yes it was just an extension of my life but more exciting in the variety of daily activities – not just a classroom.
      • Yes, I did enjoy it, but was a little intimidated by the senior JRs. After a few months, I got used to the pecking order.
      • I enjoyed my time at Leeuwin and I didn't realize at the time how long almost 10 years 315 days 12 hours was going to be.
      • Yes, a bit homesick at first but, as time went by, this faded and things started to gel.
      • I was happy to serve for 12 years as I knew this is what I wanted and couldn’t see any alternative. I just went with the flow.
      • I did enjoy all of my time at Leeuwin. I knew it was 12 years; I just did not realise just how long 12 years was. I then went on to complete 20.
      • Thoroughly enjoyed my time at Leeuwin after the first couple of months. Up to then, I was thinking ‘what the heck have I done’, then it was great.
      • Enjoyed most of my early time, new friends, and new experiences. I was well aware that I was in for 12 years, but no Navy punishment was ever as bad as my father’s.
      • Yes, I did not have any regrets during the first 3 months. Did wonder what hit me, though, with the early morning starts, etc. I never thought about it being for 12 years.
      • A very different life style, but I knew I had nothing to go back to at home, so was determined to stick it out in spite of home sickness and the discipline.
      • First 3 months – yes. 12 years didn’t seem to have much affect. Was just the start of my working life. Took it as it came and resigned myself to the fact I was in the Navy.
      • Apart from 2 weeks in hospital, after having my appendix removed, my first 3 months was what I had expected. The thought of 12 years did not faze me.
      • Knew I was there for the long haul and was determined to make the most of it. Certainly, the first 3 months was daunting but I quickly adapted to the discipline and routines. Hated the dentist!
      • I think I enjoyed the first couple of weeks but then remember thinking that the holiday is over and it is time to go home. So I was a bit homesick for a while, before the realization finally struck.
      • Everything new and, at times, quite scary. I felt it important to be part of the team to survive. Twelve years was so far into the future that I could not imagine it ever arriving.
      • This wasn’t a problem. I thought I’d be a sailor for life. That's why I got a tattoo. As it turned out, I was in for eight years and spent the rest of my life in corporate jobs with my sleeves rolled down.
      • The first three months was a reality check – just how many activities can you fit into every 24 hours? You got the impression that the powers-to-be were unsure what to do with 15-year-old kids.
      • I didn’t really enjoy the first six months as I was on chooks most of the time. Only got to go ashore three times. Don’t think the 12 years was an issue at the time.
      • I went in with my eyes open and knew there would be very restricted leave for the first three months. At the time I understood what 12 years meant and regarded this as acceptable.
      • The 1st three months was OK as that was when new friendships were made – they have lasted to this day. I always wanted to join the Navy and 12 years never worried me.
      • I enjoyed the whole time at Leeuwin and was well aware that I had signed up for 12 years. Don’t think my parents were all that happy with the 12 years, but …
      • After the initial homesickness, my first three months were an eye opener. I felt this was the best decision I had ever made and, being so young (as young as Greta Thunberg), I would’ve signed on for twenty years.
      • I enjoyed all of my time at Leeuwin. When asked how I liked it whilst on my first leave period, I replied that I loved it and would most likely sign on again after my initial 12 years. (However, since then there were many occasions that I thought otherwise.)
      • The first three months were certainly an eye opener, but once again I was lucky being a Sydneysider. Plus a sea cadet that had been on three RAN ships alongside, spending a week aboard each time - storing, cleaning, standing rounds, etc.
      • About 1 hour after arriving at Leeuwin I thought ‘what the hell have I done’. I just wanted my mum. However, once I settled in I began to enjoy the show. The skylarking, food and camaraderie was worth the early rises and PT, but not quite the cross-country runs.
      • The 1st three months were good. I had a rough idea what to expect. My mother made sure I knew how to wash darn and iron. Spit polishing boots, learning how to wear the uniform and how to tie a tally, came from other, more experienced, members who had been in the Sea Cadets prior to entering.
      • Yes I really enjoyed the first three months, meeting new friends, the training, the routine. I was lucky as I had 2 uncles who lived in WA so it was a chance to meet my dad's brothers and their families. Don't think the 12 years crossed my mind at the time as I was too occupied with everything that was going on.
      • Initially I was homesick. Then on striking duty the second day, and having to stand rounds to present the heads and shower that we hadn’t cleaned to the OODs expectations, I was ‘run in’. (My first lesson in being responsible for directing and controlling the work efforts of others.)
      • Yes. It was a big ‘sea change’ for me but I knew what to expect, having been in cadets in high school, so I was prepared. My dad was a tough disciplinarian and ex army too. 12 years did seem like a long time, of course, but I was prepared for it and reasoned that, if necessary, I could discharge without penalty during that time.
      • I always knew that my engagement was for 12 years and it never worried me until after I was married and had a wife and 2 children. And then along came Gough Whitlam who brought in that if you gave 18 months’ notice you could be discharged. At that stage I was posted to Navy Office in Canberra and was due for another sea posting, so I signed on the dotted line to be discharged.
      • I cannot say I enjoyed it, but it was not that bad. I realised it had to be done. It was hard work for me being overweight and very unfit. They did, however, have some impact on my weight and fitness and I managed OK. Went to Duchess 1st draft and had my own personal PTI to give me exercises on B gun deck. Great bloke. Met him in a pub in Hervey Bay in 2007 and he said he did remember me, and my weight problem.
      • It started badly. When I got to the table in the drill hall, my name wasn’t on their list. I was sent to sit in the corner. Just got settled there when a staff member challenged me, wanting to know my name. He sent me back to the queue that I had already been on. He wouldn’t listen to my side of the story, hence got to the table, found I was not on their list. ‘Wasn’t I sent to sit in the corner?’ So back to the seat I went. [Several paragraphs deleted by editor at this point, for the sake of brevity. Long story short, he eventually found somewhere to sleep, but not his own bunk.] My name appeared on a list the next day and I was sorted by stand-easy. After that, the first three months was a breeze. Took two days to remember my official number.

      3. What was your favourite activity?

      • At first, just getting used to a different life.
      • The TV room - 6 O’Clock Rock on Saturday nights.
      • Sailing.
      • Seamanship, loved it. That’s why I was there.
      • The boatshed.
      • Sport.
      • Scran time.
      • OXP, Seamanship, sport.
      • Sport, and going to the tip sometimes when on duty.
      • Sporting activities.
      • Sleep.
      • The physical sport availability.
      • Sport.
      • Sailing and visiting relatives in Perth.
      • Sport. Wasn’t very good at most, but enjoyed it.
      • Seamanship.
      • Sport.
      • All of the sport when in tropical routine.
      • Sport and Seamanship.
      • Weekend leave and soccer.
      • Playing sport.
      • Seamanship - I quite liked doing practical stuff.
      • Rugby.
      • Sport.
      • No favourite. I just saw them all as a means to an end.
      • The sport offered.
      • Probably sport and Seamanship.
      • Sport & Navigation lessons.
      • Loved the Maths classes.
      • Seamanship and sport.
      • I enjoyed parade training, hence I became a QMG.
      • Sports and Naval subjects.
      • Cricket.
      • Going on leave on weekends, midterm and annual.
      • I don't remember. It was not parade training, church or "chooks".
      • Seamanship.
      • I did enjoy the school, especially Navigation. I also enjoyed the OXPs.
      • Rugby. It opened doors in many ways.
      • Sport in all forms except cross-country runs.
      • Yes, I have my BR68 beside my bed.
      • Scoffing orange Madeira and cocoa, sailing whalers and, of course, rowing.
      • Sport was my favourite activity; I enjoy competition in all sport.
      • I enjoyed most activities - this was all a blast compared with school.
      • Rowing the 27 ft whalers down the Swan River and then swimming.
      • The ability to get out of the classroom every day and do an organised sport.
      • Scran time, parade ground, school; not too keen on 14 days chooks!  
      • Sport, as I got to try out various sports I had not done while in civilian clothing.
      • Soccer, rowing (coxswain), band (Leeuwin & Reserve Unit Band trips (drummer).
      • I really enjoyed the options for sport (specially the team sports) and outside activities that we had available.
      • Sport, namely tennis. I was singles and doubles champ in 1st six months, and doubles champ in 2nd half.
      • My favourite day, or activity, is when you got out of school and did work in the galley, where the cooks looked after you.
      • I think it was the Seamanship side of things, because that was totally new to me.
      • Companionship and friends: 56 years later - just look at our friendships with others from JR intakes.
      • I really liked sailing the whalers, especially sailing back from Garden Island. Rugby union and being coached by the LCDR.
      • I would say MUP during the Dogs was the least favourite activity as I did about 200 days of them, almost got discharged but I survived.
      • I particularly enjoyed the Seamanship and Naval indoctrination classes. I did not particularly enjoy the school block. I enjoyed the developing camaraderie.
      • I really enjoyed the pomp and ceremony, the marching and band music. Still do, as a matter of fact - not much marching now though. Sport and learning about the Navy.
      • Scran. I enjoyed the tucker and hoovered up as much as I could as we were burning a lot of calories. Thursday chicken Maryland was my favourite.
      • I also enjoyed the on-water activities - messing about in boats, rowing and sailing Pusser’s dinghies. The Topmen also did an OXP to Rottnest Island in an SDB.
      • I can’t think of anything that was my favourite activity but I did enjoy Seamanship - but not knots and I could not splice for the life of me.
      • I liked Seamanship and sport as a part of the daily routine, and particularly enjoyed getting away from the base to spend time with our sponsors. Tas T and I liked going to gymkhanas.
      • Sport has to be at the top of the list. The rowing under Ken R was fantastic. The rowers had special privileges arranged by Ken, which made us feel ‘special’. Athletics was also right up there, as I was pretty good at most disciplines. Awarded the Champion Athlete trophy (cup and blazer patch) at the end of the year.
      • Activities (plural). Going ashore, eating (I was always hungry – loved curry prawn and lobster Wednesdays), playing cricket, soccer, athletics. Also sailing, swimming around the jetty. Trips to Garden and Rottnest Islands were good. Speared my first fish (a flathead) with a fork tied to a broom handle at Garden Island on the day JFK was assassinated.
      • Playing sport, particularly Aussie Rules. I remember being seconded into Rugby , and not being impressed. But a PTI saved me. He used to pick me up from the Topman’s donga twice a week to go and train with the Coburn Sunday League FC. I played three games for them before being found out. I think the PTI fared worse from that adventure than I did.
      • I was fortunate enough to be chosen to be in the 8ts rowing team assembled by Ken R, we were coached by a civilian, , and were attached to the Fremantle Rowing Club. We were a bloody good crew and the secret of our success was that, because we were so fit, we could up our stroke rate as we neared the end of each race when the opposing crews were tiring. We had some very interesting times on the river whilst the rest of you guys were doing P.T. and cross-countries etc. Two that spring to mind are that one night we were training after sunset when we collided with another crew coming in the opposite direction and because I rowed “bow” I copped an oar, fair in my back. The other was when we rowed in the ‘Bridge to Bridge’ race, that was the Fremantle rail bridge to the Narrows road bridge, we got about as far as opposite the Swan brewery when the river became quite choppy and our boat began taking on water, so we had to “abandon ship’. I remember going back the next day in a workboat with Ken R to bail out and retrieve our shell and tow it back to the rowing club. The editor in the interests of brevity has omitted some sentences.]

      4. How beneficial was the additional education we received in later life? Do you think it helped in your career?

      • I don’t think it was any help.
      • Not at all.
      • Yes, made me more focused.
      • Not really. Not enough support after discharge.
      • The whole experience was beneficial
      • Not really, I tried to escape schoolwork, but failed to do that.
      • Yes it did.
      • Yes, both in education and discipline.
      • Debatable. Have to say no.
      • A good leg up, yes.
      • Yes, particularly English and Physics.
      • Navigation & Seamanship helped.
      • Not particularly.
      • Not much.
      • Not convinced that it did me any good.
      • Speed-reading.
      • Most helpful and useful.
      • The Speed-reading was a pain in the butt.
      • No, a lot of it was a repeat of my last year at high school.
      • It didn't, I hated school and didn't pay much attention in class.
      • Certainly would have, had I made a life career of the Navy.
      • I think it was beneficial, especially getting to a higher level of education.
      • Extremely. It proved to be the best pathway to a career and advancement.
      • Excellent, discipline was important. Always learning, different courses.
      • Completed my education. It most certainly helped to start my career.
      • Yes, I was a poor student at high school and had no time to study after school.
      • Yes - no education is a drawback, even if it takes years to recall and use.
      • Given my chosen branch, cook, I don't think any additional education was particularly beneficial to me.
      • Whilst it was a disciplined life, it taught respect and life skills. Yes, it did help in my career and beyond.
      • The additional education was good, the Maths and Physics definitely helped.
      • It was a sound grounding, enabling me to complete Marine & Mechanical degrees.
      • I was a bit slack at tech school, so the additional education put some perspective on what I had already been exposed to.
      • I studied new subjects (Navigation, etc.) that have held me in good stead all my life.
      • Wasn't too happy having to go back to school but I knew this before joining and, as it turned out, was very demanding.
      • The additional education was well received and kept me in good stead throughout my career. It was a good foundation for more advanced education.
      • I don’t think the additional education had much of an impact in later life, especially my career after the Navy.
      • It was a continuation of high school and any further education was beneficial to me, especially as it helped for promotion prospects.
      • Having left school at the end of 3rd year high school, I think the education side helped me a lot. It definitely helped later in my career.
      • The actual knowledge was great and I'm sure it helped in my life after the Navy, especially the ‘learning how to learn’, if this makes sense.
      • I think it was very beneficial – although I didn’t realise it at the time. Helped me to go on to further education and get my matriculation in Fremantle.

      • Yes. Very much so. Never passed Junior at school (as it was called then) - however it counted towards future employment with a stateQld gGovernment.
      • Enjoyed the education, seemed like carrying on from high school. It did, but not towards greenie industry. It helped towards management in hospitality.
      • Very. Also joined McDonald’s, excellent managerial training in all aspects of business, then moved interstate and commenced a specialised transport business, ended up a national enterprise.
      • Being just a little more mature than at school before joining, the appreciation of the benefits of more education and a study/work ethic made me utilise the improved skills.
      • Education was good, as I was in year ten when I joined midway through the year. It helped me though my 12 years in the RAN, and also in my later civilian life for sure.
      • It helped me focus on education without outside distractions and showed me I could attain a reasonable level of academic success. I excelled at Navigation.
      • Some parts of the education such as Navigation and Maths assisted in my life after the Navy. But I would say discipline set a very good basis for later life.
      • Looking back, I think that because it was the first time that I had been involved in non-coeducational classes, I applied myself more and attained much better grades than I had at school.
      • I wasn't great at the academic side of things, but enjoyed going to school at Leeuwin. This additional schooling was very helpful in the career I chose and in employment after I left the Navy.
      • I had already been away from the schooling system for a good twelve months before I joined Leeuwin, so I guess whatever education I received was going to help me. A definite advantage for the remainder of my career.
      • Initially, it caused me to have an inferiority complex, which caused me a deal of angst for some years until I decided to achieve. That swung the pendulum the other way (towards me becoming a workaholic). But no regrets.
      • Enjoyed most general education subjects other than Advanced Maths. And Physics classes which I had not done in high school - this also a little daunting. All general subjects did help in my later educational achievements in both Navy and civilian service.
      • I guess any education is beneficial in later life. I found that all of the education received on the EMP and TOW courses contributed to my career after the Navy, including ultimate success in my own consulting business within the supply operations of mainly mining and construction companies.
      • What I learnt in the 12 years made life after the Navy easy in getting different jobs. Stationary Engine driver in a sugar mill, power house engine driver in an alcohol factory, and Queensland Railway engine driver (longest trains in Qld).
      • Definitely beneficial and, yes, it helped in my future career because I was confident I could achieve most anything I put my mind to. I recall being offered the Topman Course (I think maybe by Ken R) but I knocked it back (silly me!) as I wanted to get ‘out there’ and do some of this Navy stuff.
      • No, not really as the level of education taught at Leeuwin was similar to that I had done during my school years. Just further consolidated what I had done prior, with the exception of the Navigation, Seamanship & NBCD - i.e. the non-academic subjects.
      • All the training was great. Leeuwin was the start of one of my greatest Ah Ha’s. It doesn’t matter who someone is, where they come from or what their politics, religion, colour, creed, etc. is - if they are reliable and trustworthy, they are best people to have as mates.
      • Because I did not complete the Topman’s course it is a bit difficult to determine the benefits I gained, but I am a firm believer in further education. And I am sure that the discipline of study did help me later in life. The years from 14-17 years old are really the formative years of a person’s character.
      • Well, besides learning Naval lore and about our entry into the real Navy, nothing from Leeuwin. But I did finish up as an RO and that really helped me after I left. Had a few short jobs but worked as a telex supervisor for a big import-export company due to being taught to type and use telexes. It eventually enabled me to work for OTC and later Telstra as a ship shore radio officer, working in Sydney, Broome, Townsville and Brisbane radio. 
      • It certainly helped me. Prior to Leeuwin I wasn’t much interested in school at all, and never did my homework. After Leeuwin I became a study junkie. I got the HET, the Navy SGCE, the NSW HSC, a B.A. in Computing Studies and a Graduate Diploma in Accounting – all part-time study. Before I got a free discharge, the civilians I worked for in the computer room at Navy Office used to let me change into civvies and sneak off to uni.
      • Initially it did nothing for me. I was placed on Commodore’s warning for failing my ET1. I was placed on remedial training classes and finally walked away with HET English. When I left the service, I obtained my first university degree and was studying for admission as a barrister, . However, ill health ended my studies. During my service career, I undertook a number of courses for both promotion and branch enhancement; the most difficult course was the Naval Police Investigation course, which went for three months. I also did a three months course with a state Fire Brigade to the level of Station Officer/Senior Fireman. This course was an essential element prior to posting as Senior Policeman in charge of an interstate or remote area. I also sat for examination for a commission for which I was unsuccessful; however I would never pass the politics of selection.

      5. Did you enjoy the Navigation classes; how about the Speed-reading sessions?

      • Yes. I still speed-read.
      • Navigation was great and I still use the basics in my life today.
      • Speed-reading was the better one.
      • Nav - not so much. Reading - it was a challenge, had to beat it.
      • Yes to Navigation. Can’t remember Speed-reading.
      • Not really, but it was all part of ‘being there’.
      • Naval subjects & HET subjects created a number of challenges.
      • Thoroughly enjoyed the Navigation but not so much the Speed-reading.
      • Nav - useless, speed reading - loved.
      • Cannot remember Nav classes. Speed-reading certainly helped in later life.
      • Not Navigation, but have realized later in life that Speed-reading is great.
      • Hated Navigation and Speed-reading.
      • Yes. The Navigation classes were good; don't recall the Speed-reading.
      • Don’t remember the Speed-reading; enjoyed the Navigation classes.
      • Navigation was my favourite subject (HET qualified, but only just).
      • Navigation, Seamanship and Speed-reading were enjoyed.
      • Nav - most helpful, Speed-reading - interesting.
      • Enjoyed Nav classes, hated Speed-reading
      • Navigation enabled me to circumnavigate Australia in a yacht.
      • Enjoyed both, although I was not very proficient in the Speed-reading.
      • Navigation - yes. Speed reading - did not do it.
      • As English was a weak subject, Speed-reading was a struggle.
      • Yes, would have liked to continue Speed-reading.
      • The Navigation course and reading charts were most interesting.
      • Yes, enjoyed Nav.
      • Enjoyed Navigation class, can’t remember Speed-reading.
      • Yep, enjoyed the Nav. Actually got a ticket at tech in coastal navigation from AYF.
      • Navigation was something new but I always ran aground or got lost. No good at Speed-reading
      • I didn't like the Speed-reading classes and later realized that, if you didn't use the technique all the time, you lost it.
      • Very much. Nav was new to me but I picked it up and it set my later career life. Speed-reading, ugh!
      • Yes enjoyed both and the Speed-reading has been beneficial over my whole life.
      • Navigation was a favourite. I could not come to grips with the Speed-reading and failed miserably.
      • Navigation was good, as I had to have Navigation to become a SAR winch man.
      • No. The Speed-reading was about how many answers you could correctly guess.
      • I did enjoy Navigation but never had the opportunity to use or improve my skills. Speed-reading? Don't recall.
      • Enjoyed Navigation, didn't do any Speed-reading except to see what was on the menu at scran time.
      • Navigation, yes, I went on pass the extra training later on. I am a very poor reader and I really struggled with the Speed-reading
      • Did not enjoy Navigation classes, however when I went to sea it started to make sense. Don’t remember any Speed-reading.
      • Yes they were all new and unexplored worlds. The Speed-reading sessions definitely left a long-lasting impression, even to this day.
      • Enjoyed both of these, my preference was Speed-reading and I still find this useful in everyday things I do.
      • Yes, Speed-reading was a helpful subject, especially the comprehension test on completion of each session.
      • Speed-reading helps with the news reading. Three papers a day in no time. Navigation was a plus.
      • East is least and West is best didn’t help me when I couldn’t get back up onto my sailboard. Never got the hang of Speed-reading.
      • Navigation was great, something outside our normal teachings. Speed-reading was challenging but paid dividends in years to come.
      • Navigation was my favourite subject. I still have a good understanding of it, being able to transform the basics to aircraft movement.
      • Loved the Navigation classes and still remember many of the things we were taught. Speed-reading - although it was beneficial I thought it was boring.
      • I didn’t mind the Navigation classes and obviously the Speed-reading classes didn’t have an impact on me because I can’t even remember them.
      • Navigation classes were a bit out there, and good for laugh. I am not sure I learnt a lot. Speed-reading classes, I am not sure about.
      • The Speed-reading was great and I still use it today. I enjoyed Navigation but was no good at it; I seem to remember taking a Navy ship across land (no one said it was easy).
      • Yes I did enjoy Navigation - a lot of it was logic but it really was a part of your education, which has been useful in other areas. The Speed-reading was great.
      • Speed-reading, forget it. I am a hopeless reader, have to read things twice to get meaning and fall asleep over a book. Only enjoy factual and practical publications, particularly about sailing and the sea.
      • I excelled at Navigation and really enjoyed it. I thought the Speed-reading was a waste of time. It may have suited people with photographic memories, but I needed time to absorb what I was reading.
      • Navigation classes were possibly the most enjoyable classes I ever undertook and, of course, only a couple of years down the track proved invaluable. Being a prolific reader, the Speed reading classes still provide benefits for me.
      • Perhaps I would have liked Navigation and excelled in it if I had known at the time that, when using the Chart of Lands End, that my ancestors lived there - one even being a keeper on the Long Ships lighthouse.
      • Yes indeed, I really enjoyed Navigation except for using the Almanac to find out about the moon and tides. But I did pass the final exam. I speed-read to this day and I liked putting myself to the test at Leeuwin.
      • They were very interesting and enjoyable, especially Navigation which was one of my HET subject qualifications. Most of my experience in speed-reading was a pre-introduction to my selected career choice as a Radio Operator Specialist (ROS).
      • I found Navigation very interesting and later on in life it came in handy when I got my pilots licence. I kept up with navigation and I ended up being one of the few stokers to spend a fair amount of time on the bridge. I failed with Speed-reading - it was not until much later in life that I realised I was slightly dyslectic.
      • Initially, I enjoyed the Navigation classes, however it became complicated mainly due to the ever-increasing mathematics and the teacher was a ditherer. I often wonder why those desiring a non seaman-like career would need to do this course. The Speed-reading sessions were the best course of instruction I have ever undertaken and are still of enormous benefit for me.
      • I thought the Speed-reading was a load of crap at the time but I believe it helped me later in life. I didn’t mind the Navigation classes but I seemed to manage grounding my ship during most of the exercises. Fortunate for all that I did not end up being a seaman officer.
      • The things that I did enjoy at Leeuwin were mostly practical disciplines. Navigation and Seamanship classes were particularly helpful later, as I have been a sailor all my life. Being able to plot a course, tie knots and splice ropes formed the backbone of my life on the sea. Having become a LAMET also helps tremendously in being able to read weather charts.
      • I did enjoy learning Navigation, however as I became an Electrician it was a bit useless. I remember the Speed-reading sessions and also a class where we were shown a bunch of photos and we had to say if we thought if we were more attractive than the person in the photo. The mind boggles as to what that was all about.
      • Didn’t enjoy Navigation all that much at the time. I failed it by positioning the HMAS Melbourne 20 miles inland on top of the Great Dividing Range. However, I have since used some of these learnings when navigating yachts in the Mediterranean Sea. Enjoyed Speed-reading, and have since done similar courses in Civvy Street.
      • Yes, I enjoyed Nav very much. I already had small boat experience, sailing and fishing with my uncle - including navigation at night. It was good to build on that knowledge and the experience kept all the new geodetic and radio navigation information very relevant. I couldn’t see the value in Speed-reading, though, for anything technical. Maybe speed-reading novels, newspapers and magazines is OK, but for me, I needed to read technical detail carefully, slowly and re-read everything until I thoroughly comprehended and could recall the facts.

      6. Did you enjoy the other Instruction at the school like English, Maths and Physics?

      • No. Big no.
      • I did enjoy Physics, not so much English. Maths was OK.
      • Total waste of time.
      • Yes, with my favourite being English.
      • Loved both Maths and Physics. English was marginal and boring.
      • Yes, to an extent.
      • Not really.
      • Not particularly.
      • Physics was OK.
      • I enjoyed all the academic subjects
      • No, I wasn't into Maths & Physics, 'tho I did enjoy English.
      • No, but it was part of life.
      • Yes, all of them.
      • Not much. I thought I had left school.
      • Did them under sufferance, but the diversity helped the process.
      • Physics yes, Maths not my strongest.
      • No, not really.
      • Liked English and Maths, but no to Physics.
      • Yes, enjoyed it immensely.
      • Maths and Physics, yeah. English sucks.
      • Maths and Physics great, English not so. Have improved since then.
      • I think I had a thirst for knowledge, but was too immature to understand.
      • English – yes. Maths and Physics, regrettably, did not hold a great interest for me.
      • I knew there was benefit in it for me and I was reasonably intelligent, so it wasn’t a struggle to pass the exams.
      • I was happy with it all. The Physics proved a great background for my EMC's course.
      • The instructors seemed a bit different to those I had at school, so I found that I was enjoying learning these subjects again.
      • Yes, mostly, but it was just a rescrub of what I did at school prior to joining. Remembering some divisions did a higher level than others.
      • English I did not enjoy, only acquiring pass marks. But with Maths and Physics I could gain top marks as I did at school.
      • All classes were basically the same as in the normal education system.
      • Physics was my best subject at state high school, but failed me in getting into Nirimba. Enjoyed the rest.
      • English and Maths, as Mr U explained everything to us.
      • OK. Had no problem, but had covered most at school beforehand. Yes, gave me a grounding and interest in all of the education provided.
      • Not much.
      • I particularly liked English and was pretty good at it. The other two - not quite so.
      • Generally, yes. I was not very good at Maths and still struggle with non-arithmetic problems.
      • I liked Maths and Physics, but English was not me. That's why I became a good stoker.
      • Maybe. The homework and study period each weeknight was new to me, as my parents had never encouraged us to study.
      • Maths, English & Physics were OK. I was good at English but not a Rhodes scholar when it came to Maths and Physics.
      • Maths and Physics were interesting and understandable but English was not my strong suit.
      • Putting it bluntly, Maths and Physics were way beyond me and I was pretty lazy. I did, however, pass English.
      • English and Physics were wonderful. Mathematics was a problem as Lt U, a Maths genius, could not really teach the subject well.
      • I can’t say that I enjoyed these subjects as I joined the Navy to get out of school. However, I did much better at these subjects than I had at high school.
      • The way Maths, English and Science were presented was different to that which I had been used to at school, and did not have a great impact.
      • No. If it were not for the intervention of the Training Officer, I would have been kicked out for initially failing my ET1.
      • Enjoying these classes is possibly not the right statement, but they certainly filled some gaps in my education levels and increased my ability to use them.
      • Yes, very much. I saw it as very necessary to training in my preferred branch. I liked the ‘schoolies’ and their techniques. I had a much better school learning experience at Leeuwin compared to my old high school experience.
      • A lot of extra learning was necessary to achieve the required subject standards. Extra tuition was provided but, because I had not done Advanced Maths or Physics at high school to Year 3, it was a struggle.
      • Loved English. OK with the Maths (it was fairly basic), however the Physics was new to me (the only science I had done prior was Biology). I didn’t enjoy it much but it was probably useful later. I did HET British Naval History and General Knowledge subjects also, but that was after Leeuwin.
      • Not particularly. I think it was in a Maths class when the instructor  said that if I didn’t buck up he wouldn’t recommend me for the Topman’s course. My reply, ‘I don’t want to be an officer anyway, sir’ went over like a lead balloon and funnily enough I didn’t get recommended.


      7. What didn’t you like about the routines? Getting up at dawn, perhaps? Or no leave for the first 6 weeks?

      • No problem, good learning curve.
      • All the routines began to get a bit boring after the first 6 months.
      • Chooks!
      • I enjoyed or, should I say, relaxed into the routines.
      • PT at 0600, especially in winter.
      • Just accepted those things as ‘that's the way it is in the Navy’.
      • No problems with any of these.
      • Duty watch.
      • Didn’t bother me. Rather liked it.
      • Loved the routines.
      • Never really worried me.
      • No problem with routines, still luv ‘em.
      • Got used to it, still do it today.
      • I enjoyed every bit of it.
      • Yes, these practices were accepted and taken on.
      • No leave, definitely.
      • No leave, compulsory church, those bloody cross-countries (hate, hate, hate).
      • Neither worried me at the time.
      • The indoctrination phase was, at best, a pain in the ….!
      • Was OK.
      • The ‘no leave’ bit didn't bother me.
      • P.T.
      • They were the routines at the time, so I accepted them.
      • Routines were no problem as I was very fit when I joined up.
      • Accustomed quite easily – had always got up before sunrise prior to the Navy.
      • All good.
      • I didn’t like getting up at six and avoided it as much as possible.
      • Quite hard to adapt at first, but no problems.
      • Still remember PT and being locked in my locker, especially during winter, to escape the torture.
      • I had no issues with this; it was part of the deal. Still get up early everyday - normally around 0530.
      • Getting up at dawn, particularly not being able to sleep in on weekends. Morning exercise classes.
      • Always up early for MUP. Wearing winter rig when it was hot, or summer rig when it was cold. No leave for 6 weeks was OK.
      • Used to it, as I was up at this time normally for early swimming training before going to high school.
      • Looking back on that time one can see the reasoning, but it did allow us to gel as a group, and discover routine.
      • Didn’t like getting up early in winter, but can’t remember worrying about the lack of leave.
      • Liked everything, rifle drill, precision marching, put some swagger into you lot!
      • Was used to getting up early for swimming training, but not a fan of six weeks on base.
      • I honestly cannot remember disliking any routine; was just so hungry and $3.00 didn’t go far.
      • At the time, it didn't matter much as everyone else was doing the same thing. It was just the way it was.
      • I was quite happy with the routines, we had a lot on the farm including getting up early, still continues today.
      • Getting up at dawn in winter was tough, especially as I was from central Queensland.
      • I enjoyed the routines. Previous to joining Leeuwin I was a Sea Cadet so I had an idea of routine.
      • At first, the early mornings and then straight into PT was daunting, but as I got used to the routine I really enjoyed it.
      • At that stage of my life I was looking for a leader. I found one at Leeuwin so I enjoyed the routines, however menial some were.
      • Routines, I think we grew into. All part of discipline and something that benefited me in my 34 years as a professional fire fighter.
      • Kit musters and trying to get your washing and ironing done on time with only 2 boilers and sinks.
      • Did not mind them at all. The bed inspections and kit musters were a bit much to take at times, but understood.
      • I thought it was a bit hard at first, but got used to it as we didn’t have much choice.
      • Those activities were no problem to me, as I came from a farm - getting up early and working hard.
      • I didn't mind the routines as it set a way of doing things, and I didn't get into to much trouble if I worked along those lines.
      • Not fussed about either of these. But I did manage to get leave for one weekend when my parents visited Perth and I was able to go away with them.
      • Same as at home, but I didn’t have to cut the firewood. No leave was ordinary, but I didn’t have any rabbit traps to set so I lived with it.
      • I did not like the ‘Mill’ fights. I had a badly dislocated jaw after one of the fights, and nothing was done about it by the sick bay staff at the time.
      • The tropical routine was my favourite and I still like the early start. The day went fast and you had all this time in the afternoon to relax and enjoy time with your mates.
      • I love a good sleep in and that was never possible, not even on a Sunday morning. No leave initially was hard but when it did eventually happen, it was magic.
      • It never worried me. In fact, I think that the routines stood us in good stead. No leave for 6 weeks was a bit hard to take; maybe they thought that we would all run away if we were let loose.
      • Wasn’t too fazed about most of the activities. I pretty much accepted the discipline and understood it was part of the process of getting through Leeuwin.
      • Routines kept you busy, early rising was not a problem. The heat of Tropical North Qld made this a normal event. Not knowing what leave was all about, I didn’t miss it or pine for it.
      • Honestly, I cannot say that I disliked any of the routines. Having lost my father at 3 years old and brought up in a female dominated house (single mother, sister, grandmother, aunty) I think I appreciated the structure.
      • Getting up at dawn, perhaps, or no leave for the first 6 weeks. I was quite used to being up early having had morning paper rounds for years before. The six weeks of confinement was tough.
      • Being a WA native I guess this was a little hard to take because I missed the ability to continue my football, but as it was something that was common to all of us, it wasn't all that difficult to live with. Also, you knew it wasn't forever.
      • Somewhat different, but I quickly learnt without bucking the system too much. More free time would have been good. Leave was good, especially having a sponsor family and away trips with the Naval Reserve Band (and treated as men).
      • Leave didn’t worry me until I had no money. Forced study time - what a waste of staff time. After a month we were all tired, so getting up before the sun was something we did with our eye closed until the PTI got hold of us. Part-of-ship – great, no school!
      • Getting up wasn’t too bad as I used to getting up very early and going for walks.  Also fished a lot from the piers. Loved my fishing and still do a bit, but physically disadvantaged nowadays. The leave was not a real concern for me, from memory, as I knew nobody and did not go too far.
      • The routines did not worry me a great deal. We had good divisional Pox’s who helped a lot. I used to dislike with passion some PE instructors aka Stroppy R. I think everyone was getting a bit toey after the 6 weeks - except those involved in the great escape over the fence on a Friday night and came back into the waiting arms of the Naval Police.
      • The routines were, how shall I say, rather different to what I was used to at home. I still remember one occasion in the first few days when the Topman told us in no uncertain terms what he would do with our beds if we were not out of them instantly. I remember it was not going to be pleasant. No leave for the first six weeks didn't bother me that much, except we had our first weekend cancelled because a class member did not iron his shirt. He did so in future.
      • The routines were OK – sort of as expected and we knew it would ease up eventually. What I didn’t like was punishment routines. Discipline by the instructors and fellow JRs was not always meted out with fairness and even-handedness. It was too easy to get on the wrong side of things and too hard to be everyone’s mate and the perfect recruit all the time. Chooks and leave stoppages were tough, group punishment was really unfair and bastardization was crap. Fortunately I could stand up to that.

      8. Did you like compulsory church; remember the milkshakes at the local cafe or Seaman’s Mission?

      • Yeah, it was ok.
      • Loved church. It was a break and enabled us to get out and about.
      • Oh it was OK, but don’t remember much about it to be honest.
      • The long march there and back definitely filled the Sundays.
      • Accepted church easily, as this also figured in my earlier life.
      • Liked the march to church. Did a few afternoons at the Mission.
      • Only because it got me out of Leeuwin for a while.
      • Only the milk shakes and going to the Mission to play snooker.
      • Not much, long march, liked playing pool at Stella Maris.
      • It was an outing.
      • I didn't mind the church outings, as I got off the base.
      • Just part of our training.
      • Disliked church, I cannot remember the Seaman's Mission.
      • No to church. Milkshakes were good.
      • I hated compulsory church.
      • I recall not enjoying church, being agnostic.
      • Did not like compulsory church – no memory of milkshakes.
      • Never went to church parade.
      • Can’t remember too much about weekends.
      • Not a problem really, except in the rain.
      • Routines. Got out of it if you had Sponsors Leave till 1600 Hrs. on a Sunday.
      • No problem at all here as I had been doing it for the previous three years.
      • Did not like compulsory church. Got 5 days punishment for skipping church.
      • Got me off the depot for the morning. Remember the Seaman’s Mission well.
      • Not much.
      • Enjoyed the church as I had previous experience with Salvation Army.
      • No recollection of church.
      • Only the milkshakes.
      • No. And don’t remember any milkshakes (maybe only for OPDs).
      • Wasn’t fussed.
      • Church, no problem; don’t remember the Mission or the milkshakes.
      • Played rugby, so no need for church, hahaha.
      • I hated going to church. I am now a devout atheist. Enjoyed the Seaman’s Mission and, afterwards, taking in the latest movies with Eddie S.
      • I really did not like the church parade, and skulked it in the roof of the heads on a number of occasions.
      • Not much, but it got us out and about - and the march down the river was great.
      • Not really; thought it was a complete waste of a good Sunday morning sleep in.
      • Not being religious type, it didn’t worry me. Thought it was a day out; marching there and back.
      • To escape from Leeuwin was important. I was lucky and was sponsored by a local family.
      • As a practising Catholic at the time, compulsory church was not an issue. I do remember the Seaman’s Mission, lots of fond memories.
      • I didn’t remain a protestant for very long as they had to march to church, the Catholics got the bus. ‘Hail Mary mother of God.’
      • No, only because I felt like I was over it. Don't remember milkshakes or the Seaman’s Mission.
      • Brief recollection of the Seaman’s Mission, but lots of memories of Port Beach and drinks from the kiosk.
      • What milkshakes? Went to early church - more time to get ready for leave.
      • I am a devout Christian and whilst at Leeuwin I took the opportunity to be confirmed in my church.
      • At home I was marched off to Sunday school, so this was just another phase plus a chance to see what was outside the fence.
      • Wasn’t impressed with the compulsory church but did spend quite a bit of time at the Seaman’s Mission in Fremantle
      • As part of the routine, you did what was expected of you so you went along with it. Milkshakes, great.
      • Compulsory church set me up to become a practicing atheist. I do attend infrequently now, just in case there is some truth in the teachings.
      • Wasn't that pleased about the march up the hill. I think the church site serves a better purpose as a private hospital. My daughter was christened at the Seaman’s Mission and her name was on the bell.
      • Church was never a problem as I attended church before I joined the RAN. Never went to cafes or the Seaman’s Mission. I used to go out to sponsor families’ places on weekend leave.
      • Can't say I remember the milkshakes, but didn't mind marching to church as it got me off the base and let me know there were other people out there.
      • Didn’t worry me; enjoyed the Sunday morning march (stroll) to church - got me away from Leeuwin for a short while. Went to the Seaman’s Mission only a handful of times.
      • Not being overly religious it was just something that had to be endured to reach your anticipated end goal. And to be honest it took more effort to get out of it than to participate.
      • I was a churchgoer before I joined, so going to church didn’t bother me. Having another ‘seniors moment’ because I can’t remember the milkshakes or Seaman’s Mission.
      • Before the Navy, it was compulsory for me to attend church and Sunday school, as my mother was a staunch Christian. I remember enjoying marching alongside the Swan River past the oyster beds on a sunny Sunday morning.
      • No. Can’t remember the milkshakes but vaguely remember the Seaman’s Mission. I do remember hiding in the ceiling of the old dongas to escape church and I wasn’t alone. Luckily, I was never caught by the crushers!
      • I liked going to church before I joined, but given the opportunity to leave Leeuwin for a while to go to Church and the Seaman’s Mission gave us all a different outlook and something to look forward to.
      • Yes, I think we gave the Seaman’s Mission ‘rum-flavoured’ a bit of a hiding. Church was a nice diversion; I remember that march down opposite the Oyster Bar - there were bananas growing, something I hadn’t seen before.
      • I am not a religious person. I think I learnt to dislike religion by having to attend Sunday school and a C of E primary school where one was overloaded! Time spent at the Seaman’s Mission was enjoyable, not much of a milkshake person (then or now!).
      • I found the long march to the Presbyterian Church, followed by the sermon and march back again, very tedious. With little money to spend I spent my weekends with relatives for the first 6 months and a sponsor for the second six months.
      • I never liked church as I am agnostic, but it was over soon enough. But being a Welshman, I love singing and listening to hymns. I cannot remember the local café and never went to Seaman’s Mission. I was a quiet sort of bloke and was terrified of being late or doing the wrong thing.
      • Hated it; made to go to church before I joined up, and then still had to go. I probably knew more of the sermon than the padre. Don’t remember milkshakes. Dirtied our No 1 uniform, marching up the hill. Can’t remember what the prodo’s did after church.
      • Not being a church going person, it really pissed me off. Catholics went by bus and the rest of us (OPD) had to march. First time I went to church the bloke up the front tried to drown me, the next time I went I got stuck with the misses so there won't be a third time.
      • Well, I didn’t mind church. I had a fairly religious upbringing, and I could use the knowledge from religious experience to draw comfort and solace when needed. Leeuwin could, at times, be a very lonely place in some ways if one was going through a hard time. I was smart enough, though, to keep my ‘ecclesiastical awareness’ to myself.

      9. Did you at anytime think of discharging when at Leeuwin?

      • I never saw it as an option, under any circumstances.
      • No, never.
      • No way.
      • Never crossed my mind.
      • No, but a leading hand had his eyes set on doing it for me.
      • No. Loved my time.
      • No. Never entered my mind.
      • No. I was generally happy with my lot most of the time.
      • No not at all, I was looking forward to getting out to the .
      • Don't think so.
      • Never.
      • No, never.
      • No, no, never.
      • No way.
      • No thoughts at all, my family would not accept that.
      • Definitely not.
      • Didn’t know I could, but I think I enjoyed it too much.
      • Not really. I just keep the graduation target in sight and rode the wave.
      • I was looking forward to getting out into the real Navy life to see the world.
      • No! That came after 7-8 years and getting married. I really enjoyed my Navy life up until then.
      • Never. Got quite homesick but learnt how to write letters and it was comforting hearing from my family.
      • I don’t think so. I couldn’t have faced everyone back in my hometown if I had quit.
      • Only in the first couple of hours after arriving at Leeuwin, and when frog marching in the drains with a rifle above my head.
      • No, I was just looking forward to getting my tid suit and going to sea, and later on doing my category course.
      • Not really, however when I was doubling around the parade ground late at night I often wondered what I had gotten myself into.
      • I got used to the routines and discipline very early and, other than the usual bullying from the bigger boys, I survived OK. No thought of discharging from the RAN at that time.
      • No. But it was pretty low at times of the bastardisation and general bullying for no real reason except ‘to toughen you up’, which was different to tough discipline.
      • No, but I was advised by my uncle that, if I wanted to leave the Navy, to call him. He was a Brigadier in the Army. This was in Melbourne on that bloody train trip after the first 6 months.
      • Discharging was the last thing on my mind. There were moments, especially during No 9s on the parade ground, when it fleetingly crossed my mind. That said, I wasn’t going to give in.

      10. When did you decide on what category you wished to pursue? Did you get allocated that category?

      • Before I joined. Yes.
      • Right from the beginning I wanted to be an Electrician.
      • Naval Stores was picked for me, and I had no regrets.
      • At the end of the year, and yes.
      • Before I joined and, yes, I got what I was after.
      • I got the category that I wanted.
      • After about the first 6 months. My leading seaman was a good role model.
      • Prior to joining – yes.
      • Decided after about 9 months, and was allocated to what I selected.
      • Always enjoyed airplanes. Got exactly what I wanted.
      • When on the Sydney.
      • Was undecided, didn't get where I was originally placed.
      • I decided on engineering as my first choice, and managed to jag it.
      • When I joined up I wanted to be a stoker and never regretted one minute.
      • Engine room on Diamantina. Yes - M(E).
      • I was given the category of greenie, wanted to be a Clearance Diver.
      • After about 9 months and, yes, I did get my category.
      • It was recommended after my Topman course to move into the Supply section - hence became a Writer.
      • I started off as a birdie Handler, but once I found out my sea time would be limited, I changed to QMG.
      • Yes, asked for Communications Operator (CO) and got CO, with Writer second choice.
      • I always wanted to be a Naval Airman, but ended up as Under Water Control (it was very interesting).
      • At the last minute, was going Clearance Diver, but changed to Communications.
      • That I'm not sure of, I nearly became a Clearance Diver but then decided to become a ‘Greenie’ as I thought that, long term, this might be the best option.
      • I think about 9 months into the year, after we had instruction on different categories.
      • On entry. I was allocated a REM, but changed at sea to a ME to ultimately get a Mechanics course to pursue a trade.
      • Not a lot of consultation during this early phase. Upon return to Leeuwin as a JR1.
      • Joined hoping to be a Radio Operator and was successful.
      • Applied for Radar, and got it.
      • Joined the Navy to be a Clearance Diver, and was accepted for training.
      • The day they told me I had to pick one. To be a PTI, it had to be in a Seaman category.
      • Just before the completion of the second 6 months. I asked for, and was allocated, the Communication category - which I later changed to Writer.
      • Probably about 3 weeks before a decision was asked for. I wanted to be a greenie, but was told I would be a better Communicator.
      • I didn't get to decide as they were short of Communicators and I was to be one. I had put all Seaman categories first. Bit of a joke really.
      • Before I joined up I wanted to be a Signalman, but became a sparker instead, so I guess I got part of it, i.e. Communications.
      • I selected my category, and after our Ord (Various) training I chose that category.
      • I got allocated my category after my first preference could not be pursued, due to a medical condition.
      • Three choices and I got Steward. Nothing of what I wanted. Ended up a Clearance Diver though.
      • Not sure when, although I wanted to be a Writer. I remember putting Electrician first though, as I knew I wouldn't get it, having failed the subject dismally.
      • I chose Electrical and was allocated Aircraft Electrical, as they were rebuilding the Fleet Air Arm - a trade that I maintained my whole working life and loved it.
      • Very early on. Wanted to be a Seaman (Gunnery) STB crew, Seamanship, etc., but no - told me I would be a Communicator. As it turned out, they were right and I was wrong (Signalman).
      • Sure did. Can still see my Divisional Officer’s (a gunnery type) eyes widening when I told him I wanted to be a Stores rate so I could get all-nighters, hahaha.
      • When they gave me the list of categories I was eligible for. I originally planned to train as a Cook, but finished up with EMC as my first preference, Cook as my second and Photographer as my third – quite diversified.
      • Didn’t get a choice, was told what I was destined for – greenie. After service, I loved working with figures. Always thought I would have liked to try pay branch.
      • I talked it over with a couple of mates and my leading seaman. He didn’t think Clearance Diving was a good idea, but I wanted to give it a go. I had never seen diver in my life, only pictures. I got it.
      • My first 3 choices were stoker, stoker, stoker. Always wanted to be a stoker from when I joined the Naval Cadets . Only 2 categories - stokers and those who wanted to be stokers.
      • At Leeuwin, was allocated Communicator. On HMAS Vampire, changed to Naval Airman (HMAS Melbourne). HMAS Albatross Naval Airman Airframes Engines (wanted SE).
      • After I was at sea on Diamantina, where I watched the fish-heads in the wind and rain, compared to the Writers in their cosy office. Yes, I achieved the Writer category.
      • From the outset. I was always focussed on the Communications branch and was delighted when I was able to get into radio, and over the moon when I got (S). I think I would have had problems as a ‘bunting tosser’.
      • Probably towards the end of the 12 months. Can’t recall when we were required to nominate our preferred category. My older brother was a birdie greenie at Albatross, so I guess this had some influence on me opting for a Naval Air Mechanic (AE). I was allocated to this category.
      • I wanted to be a Communicator (C) but was told that I would be better suited as an Electrician (EMP) as I had a higher intelligence (?) Somewhat pissed off when the pay rates were reviewed and the C rating received more than the EMP.
      • When I left the Topman’s course and went to sea I was in contact with my ‘mentor’, a Lt Cdr R, who thought that I should apply for NAMET and put it on my application as preference 1, 2, and 3. When I fronted the selection panel, they questioned me on that unprecedented preference, but granted it.
      • Very early in my Leeuwin time, as I needed a Seaman category and a P.O. rank to become a Coxswain, and it would keep me out of Victoria. Having reached the rank of P.O., much to my disgust the Coxswain branch was absorbed/amalgamated into the Regulating branch and I didn't wish to do that. However, certainly no regrets.
      • My father was a cook in the Army during WW2, my mother was a cook in the RAF in WW2 and my grandfather was a cook in the Merchant Navy. (Also during WW2, his ships were torpedoed 3 times and he survived them all.) It seems to have been a foregone conclusion as to what I would do. Yes.
      • I think it was after my time on Melbourne that I decided that I wanted to be part of the Electrical branch and applied for the ‘C’ course which I got at Cerberus. Wish I’d applied for the ‘WE’ course because most of that category went off to the States for the DDGs on completion of their course.
      • I think we had about 26 choices from memory. I was originally going to be a Seaman, but changed it to Communicator, mainly because a few school friends had joined prior to me and were all Signalmen. I eventually became a Signalman, turned out a very good move as Signalmen did a fair bit of Seamanship as well, so a bit of both worlds in my view.
      • My first choice was Photographer as my uncle used to be a Phot in the UK and my second choice was sparker because Perry W’s brother was one. I learned a little bit about it when on Duchess too. Thankfully, I got to be a Radio Operator as I probably would not have been accepted at Nowra due to my weight and lack of fitness - getting on helicopters and doing transfers, etc.
      • One lunchtime on Melbourne, as an Ord in the Electrical Department, I fell asleep on the deck in 2 Papa Mess. At ‘Out Pipes’ everyone in the mess left me sleeping and later, unbeknownst to me, I was being piped to the Electrical Office. I was eventually woken with a size 10 to the stomach and the words of the Chief Electrician, ‘Whose F@#**ing Navy do you think you’re in, sailor’.
      • Well initially, I thought I would like to be a Cook. Still cut up onions as shown by a Cook at Leeuwin. I wrote home telling my parents that I’d like to be a Cook. My mother wrote back to me that if I became a Cook, don’t bother coming home! So while having dental treatment I decided to join the Dental Branch.
      • Originally, I wanted to be a ‘birdie’ and do Airframes and Engines but at the time I had no idea that it was a very small selection. When I asked the selection committee about that, they said that they didn’t want any of them. ‘How about being a stoker,’ they asked. I didn’t fancy that, as I had seen what was involved during our ‘sea time’ on Diamantina. I was asked to go away and think about it overnight, and when I went back I replied that I liked working on engines not inside them. They then offered me the Electrical branch, which I accepted and never looked back.
      • I decided quite early that I wanted to be a Radio Operator. However, when I finished the first few weeks at Signal School, the only choices available in Comms were RO (S) and Data Operator (DO). RO (S) guys didn’t send Morse code, so I didn’t regard them as true radio operators. I chose DO (even though I didn’t know what they did) so I could be reunited with my WRAN girlfriend at HMAS Harman. As a result, I spent the next fifty years working in Information Technology.
      • I was asked to undertake a few interviews for ‘up-classing’ from Nakina 4 to Kiaba 1 or 2 as a prospective Leading JR. I chose to move to Kiaba 1, as a JR1, to suit my Communications ambitions as an ROS. I wish I had known what my future would bring and my reluctant request for discharge (PUNS) from the Navy. All to do with the Navy’s decision to re-classify some of the Specialist Radio Operators working in the IT security intelligence areas within Navy (enough said the better). This affected 63 officers and other ranks from 1969 to 1971.
      • I always wanted to be a dib dab (Seaman), but many of my duty nights I worked in the scullery in addition to washing pots and pans. The cooks used to give us cookery lessons and ideas. I formed the opinion that perhaps a chef would be way to go. However my family vetoed this. Another reason I enjoyed working in the scullery was a copious supply of fresh cold milk. I eventually chose to be a QMG and I stayed in the branch for six years, rising to the rank of LSQMG. After that I transferred to the then Regulating Branch as a Leading Patrolman and subsequently a Coxswain. After that, I joined the Naval Police.
      • I asked to be an aircraft mechanic as my father was in the RAAF during the Second World War. When asked why, I replied, ‘My father was an aircraft mechanic during WW2. I always like pulling things apart and putting them back together, so I would like to make this my career’. The interviewer replied, ‘What a very mature answer from someone so young’. They wanted me to be a stoker, and I said, ‘no way’. Then I was told I would be an armourer, and again I said, ‘no way’. Finally, I started my training on the good old UH1B Iroquois helicopter in 723 Squadron. Then Trackers, and the good old C47 Dakota.

      11. Did you enjoy the Friday night dances?

      • Don’t really remember them.
      • Not really – still cannot dance!
      • I was very introverted and later in life learnt that I was on the Autism Scale.
      • Social occasions were not a highlight for me.
      • Of course!
      • Not really. I was shy and not really interested anyway.
      • Bit nervous - girl germs – lol.
      • As I was ugly, they were a chore.
      • Yes, but not much of a dancer
      • Think so.
      • I did go to some, but they were not a big priority for me.
      • No not really – I was too shy and naïve, at that stage, to enjoy it.
      • Yes, my favourite was the Pride of Erin.
      • Shit, yeah.
      • Not really, but it was an outside activity that broke the cycle.
      • Bit awkward with the ladies, then,
      • Only attended very occasionally.
      • In 63, didn’t know there were dances on.
      • Strangely enough, I can’t remember them.
      • Was nice to fraternise with the opposite gender.
      • A bit of fun, something different.
      • Sort of, can’t really remember.
      • Didn’t go.
      • I can’t remember.
      • Too shy!
      • Loved them.
      • I didn’t go to them because I was too shy and couldn’t dance.
      • They were good, but I was a bit shy and didn't speak to many young women.
      • I cannot even remember much about them, to tell you the truth.
      • Can’t remember going to many, one at the end of the year.
      • Didn't attend every one, but enjoyed the ones I went to.
      • Loved them.
      • Yes, good fun, learned to dance a little.
      • Did not enjoy the dances as I never attended them.
      • Yes, met some nice girls and loved the dancing (Rock and Roll).
      • Yes, I guess so but wasn’t into chasing sheilas in those days.
      • Didn’t go.
      • Don’t remember anything about the dances.
      • Don’t remember them, the photos were a real surprise to me.
      • Who didn't?
      • Very much.
      • It was OK.
      • Absolutely, didn't everyone?
      • They were OK, at least we could mix with some females instead of our oppos.
      • Attended two. Always too many JRs and not a lot of single young ladies.
      • Had a girl friend at home, who has now been my wife for 54 years. I had no interest in the Friday night dances.
      • They were OK, however I managed to win a squarie but, when she paid me off, I did not care for the dances.
      • Cannot recall ever going to them. I would have been too shy with the young hostesses.
      • No. Never danced at my wedding. Did dance in Subic Bay with the bar girls to Black is Black, I Want My Baby Back.
      • Somewhat. I was a piss poor dancer but I actually met my first wife there, got married at the age of 19 and divorced 9 years later.
      • I was too stupid and scared to get up and dance, and that is one of the things I will always regret. Talk about being dumb.
      • Not particularly. It wasn’t the same as going to the ‘Y’ with old mates back home, especially having to wear rig.
      • Did not go very often. Had a girlfriend who lived on the other side of Perth and she could not come.
      • My memory is still reasonable, but I can’t honestly remember going to possibly more than one.
      • I guess so, but can’t recall much about them - so that suggests they didn’t have much impact on me. Certainly made no lasting friendships from them.
      • Friday night dances were enjoyable. It wasn’t until you were a JR1 that you got to know the ropes and got to know the girls better.

      12. Did you enjoy the sports and the compulsory cross-country?

      • Yes, most definitely.
      • Tennis only. Hated the cross-country.
      • I was indifferent to them.
      • Yes - any sport meant time off.
      • Absolutely.
      • Not really a fan of those.
      • Most certainly.
      • No way, hated it with a passion.
      • Sports were OK, cross-country the pits.
      • Sport was OK, but knew a few short cuts in the cross-country.
      • I did enjoy the cross country because I found something I could do.
      • Certainly did.
      • Yes, much so.
      • Enjoyed sports, cross-country runs were not my thing.
      • As always, any sport was enjoyable and welcome, well, maybe not the Mill.
      • Sometimes.
      • Cross-country? Not particularly. Team sports? Yes.
      • Sports - yes. Cross-country - no (hate, hate, hate).
      • Yes, anything to do with sport or physical activity - I loved.
      • Got to play hockey for Leeuwin, hated the cross-country.
      • Enjoyed the sport but hated the cross-country runs.
      • Enjoyed all sports, could not beat Alan S or Neil G.
      • Enjoyed the sports, although the cross-country was not my favourite.
      • Not the cross-country.
      • Sport and cross-country were a part of my thing. I played a lot of hockey following on from school.
      • My sport of choice was rowing with Ken, up until that time I hated sport. Ken gave me the opportunity.
      • I was never much of a sportsman, preferring mucking around in boats. The best thing about the cross-countries was finishing.
      • I enjoyed the sports, but not the cross-country. Later in life, though, I was a keen jogger (about 20 to 30 miles per week).
      • Yes, both. It was good to learn about other sports, except boxing (2 bouts were enough).
      • I did enjoy most sports and athletics, but not particularly the cross-country. I preferred shorter distances, which I did well at.
      • Excelled at most sports and found this to be an outlet from the serious curriculum.
      • Very much. Loved the boxing, basketball and cricket (for which I got the trophy).
      • Sports, yes. X-country, not if you had to run it 2 or 3 times because others cheated.
      • Yes, I did enjoy the sport and physical activities. Did not enjoy the cross-country that much, but the exercise was building.
      • Some. As for the cross-country, an old sailor told me ‘don't come first and don't come in last’.
      • Not being a great runner, the cross-country was a bit hard - but once over, I felt great.
      • Yes, always enjoyed sport and even morning PT, but really disliked the skulkers who made it difficult for those who attended correctly.
      • I tried very hard to qualify for various teams, including rowing, but was never selected. I was never particularly athletic, but enjoyed playing hockey.
      • Yes, except when we were sent around again because someone was caught taking a short cut and he being sent for a shower while we went around again. That Stroppy R was a bastard.
      • I enjoyed sports more in the last six months as, being a LJR, I was able to work it. If our div was doing something I liked, I went. If the div I lived with did something different, I went there.
      • It was OK, I suppose, but the boxing wasn’t my thing. There was already enough biffo going on up in the blocks. I liked track and field and any opportunity to go sailing on the river.
      • Cross-country was one of my better abilities, and the other sports were good. I also did join the JR lightweight rowing 8, in which we were very successful. Ken R was our coach and he was very good at helping us achieve great results.
      • No, to me PT, sports, cross-country were a form of sadistic punishment administered by a group of physical sadists – PTIs. Henceforth, any form of physical activity always represented punishment.
      • Cannot say I enjoyed the cross-country runs – running has never been my thing! Had a short stint with the rowing team and enjoyed that, but must not have been all that good at it as I never competed in any events.
      • Loved soccer, rowing and high diving – luckily I missed the compulsory cross-country, except for an experimental run along the Swan River, swim across and back again – very exhausting, that’s why we did it only once in the second term.
      • Boxing was interesting, especially when two mates had to challenge each other. Needless to say - the Mill was their outcome. Cross country, mm! Not so much, especially when JRs were caught skulking, and the just-completed course had to be rerun.
      • Yes. I was pretty good at all sport and so it wasn’t a chore to participate. Coming from Vic, rugby was a little foreign and I recall my first game on the wing where I ran the length of the field for a try, only to be told by the referee that I bounced the ball over the line - so no try!
      • Sports were tough at my weight and fitness, but managed well enough, I suppose. The cross-country was very tough. But I never came last or anywhere near it, due to all the bludgers and those only going halfway. As you remember, Stroppy sometimes sent us around again because of some bloke who cheated.
      • I was involved in rowing, which left very little time for any other sports. Cross-countries were a bit harrowing, especially when one particular PTI sprung anyone not completing the whole course. He let the miscreants go to their dongas and the rest of us had to run the course again. Later, justice was administered; these days it would be called ‘bastardisation’.
      • Yes. I enjoyed sport. Played squash until I called the Commander ‘mate’. Then allocated to the spare hands, from which teams could pick bodies to make up their team’s numbers. I ended up playing rugby. Had a couple of good games. Cross-country was OK until we had to go around again. Stuff that - just pretend you are going flat out and save energy for the second round. Boxing, limited tuition, up against a golden glove in my first round (beat him). Having to box against a mate in the second term wasn’t pleasant.
      • All the sports were great, boxing was fun until I fought a (junior golden gloves champ). He disturbed a few of my teeth so I decided that boxing was not for me, took up running and that was much more successful. Nothing like a good cross-country, the PTIs seemed to excel in finding or creating the most difficult courses for us. When I went back to local footy in Hurstbridge, we did run around the streets - but not quite the same as a good Navy cross-country.

      13. Did you enjoy the seamanship and ABCD

      • Yes I did, still can’t tie a knot.
      • For sure, we were in the Navy.
      • Very much.
      • Waste of time on me.
      • A new experience, good training.
      • They were of interest to me, for sure.
      • Not particularly.
      • Yes, it was new stuff to me
      • Yes, thoroughly enjoyed both subjects.
      • Just part of the schoolwork.
      • Sure did.
      • Yes, all in all, I did.
      • Enjoyed the Seamanship course.
      • With Stan D, yes.
      • The seamanship was interesting, but I looked on ABCD as a necessary evil.
      • Yes, very much so.
      • Very much.
      • Liked NBCD. Seamanship was too basic I thought.
      • It was a necessary schooling to prepare us for the Fleet.
      • Yes, was very interesting.
      • Yes I did, it was my bread and butter.
      • Yes, it was something I would not have encountered in normal life.
      • No. I found this stuff pretty boring and had difficulty generating interest.
      • ABCD was an essential training phase as shown later on in my service.
      • Most assuredly.
      • Yes, today I still use the skills I learnt.
      • Seamanship was OK, but I’ve forgotten what ABCD was. Used knots when sailing yachts later in life.
      • I liked Seamanship as I still use a lot of it. ABCD was something we had to know.
      • Loved boat work, and trips on the HMAS Diamantina and workboat to Rottnest Island.
      • Yes, I loved the different skills I learnt, and even being gassed in the gas mask chamber I found an experience.
      • Seamanship was good, didn't like sitting on a DC plug that the POMTP made us sit on for playing up in class.
      • Taught me how to tie a reef knot and a bowline - never used that skill after I left Leeuwin.
      • I really looked forward to Seamanship as, in my mind at the time, it was what we were there for.
      • For some unknown reason I enjoyed Seamanship and rowing the whalers. I understood the importance of ABCD but did not particularly enjoy it.
      • Yes, and this did continue on for a few more years after Leeuwin. ABCD/NBCD was always a bit of a drag.
      • These were subjects not covered in regular schools and I found them fascinating. Probably started my interest in nuclear physics and astronomy.
      • Yes, as the Seamanship stood me in good stead in later life. ABCD was interesting, as I had never seen or heard anything like it before.
      • That was great. Seamanship was where I got taught to tie a jury knot, which I can still tie today, along with the bowline behind my back.
      • Yes. I found Seamanship particularly to my liking and the skills I learned are still relevant to me today. ABCD was interesting and a good skill to have at sea.
      • Yes, I did enjoy Seamanship and ABCD (still have my little ABCD Manual). Some Seamanship came in very handy when I was on Advance in Darwin.
      • Yes, learnt a few things out of that which I still use, i.e. knots, rope handling and general fire fighting. And learnt a few truths about the Monte Bello Island nuclear shots!
      • Fore runner to OH & S I would say, learning knots was great and the bowline is still my favourite. This training was of great value to me when I became the chief fire warden in our high rise building in Melbourne. My Navy training has shaped my life and my actions in the different work places I have been in.
      • I enjoyed both of these subjects. The instructors were seamen without an axe to grind (go Zeke). My mid-year report to my parents didn’t reflect this - it said my academics were better. Lessons learnt here and on the forecastle of Vampire stood me well in later years - as a birdie I was able to take charge of berthing parties when I was Duty CPO at Cerberus and Garden Island.
      • Yes. Seamanship was good; it helped me build on my knowledge. I already knew a lot of the terminology, rope and knot work, boat construction, etc. It was the real meat and potatoes part of being in the Navy. I found ABCD really interesting; it was all pretty new stuff for me. It really got me thinking about the prospects for survival at sea in a real punch up.
      • Yes. What kid didn’t like playing with fires, etc? I remember the time when the Chief left us in the hut to go over to the Divisional Office and one of us (can’t remember who) slipped out to go to the boys’ room. I waited inside the doorway to get him with a fire extinguisher when he returned from the toilet but to my horror the Chief beat him back to the hut and I let off the extinguisher at the Chief. Can’t remember the punishment though.

      14. Did you mind wearing Pusser’s clothes that didn’t necessarily fit?

      • Not really.
      • No, as we tended to grow into them.
      • Had no choice - that or being naked.
      • Didn't have an issue with ill-fitting clothes.
      • Boots that were too small – caused problems for the rest of my life.
      • Mine were pretty good
      • I must have been an odd size - mine fitted ok.
      • Had to wear something, but didn’t necessarily enjoy.
      • I guess I was lucky they had sizes that fitted my frame.
      • They fitted where they touched.
      • Some of it felt a bit odd initially.
      • Learned to live with it.
      • We were growing boys. What did we expect?
      • No choice.
      • Didn’t have much choice.
      • Nothing was going to fit well on my skinny frame.
      • Didn’t mind.
      • Mine fitted OK.
      • At that time, it didn’t matter - you wore a uniform.
      • Any clothes were good.
      • Had no major problems with clothes that didn't fit.
      • Totally irrelevant to me.
      • No, we were all in the same boat.
      • No, they eventually fitted and then I went tiddly.
      • Not really.
      • Yes, hate clothes that don’t fit well.
      • Pusser’s clothing, for me, fitted rather well so I cannot complain.
      • Didn’t worry me.
      • Mine fitted.
      • No, I didn’t mind.
      • Not the shoes. Have had problems with feet ever since.
      • No, didn't seem to notice, although the boots were either too big or too small.
      • They didn’t make me look any better.
      • Yes, anything was good and was quite used to uniforms.
      • I was long and skinny at the time and, surprisingly, the clothes seemed to fit.
      • Didn't bother me, I knew how to tiddly it to make it acceptable.
      • You knew you were going to look like a dork until you left Leeuwin.
      • As a kid from a farm, having new, fairly well fitting kit was a pleasure.
      • Only wore Pusser’s issue for the first 18 months, then found Red Anchor.
      • Never had that problem. When in the Fleet, always bought tiddly uniform.
      • Not particularly, have had feet trouble ever since. A cursory glance at my feet, then a guess at what would fit, then take them away.
      • I must have been lucky, being tall and skinny - things fitted. I thought the uniform looked good, especially with belt and gaiters.
      • I don't remember it being a problem. I can't say I remember anything not fitting.
      • Loved the uniforms - school uniform, navy uniform. Unfortunately, none of them fit nowadays (they must have all shrunk).
      • It took me a long while to grow into mine, but there were a lot of others in the same boat so it wasn’t really a problem.
      • Yes, it helped change the routine, but standing guard on the clothesline was a burden.
      • In those days, clothing was not a big priority for me and I found that my rig fitted me reasonably well.
      • No, not really - I had two problems that always cropped up - small head and couldn’t get caps to fit.
      • No - only that wearing them ashore in Fremantle was uncomfortable in more ways than one.
      • When I joined I was 5’2 and 8.5 stone. When I left Leeuwin I was 5’11 and 11 stone, so mine never fitted.
      • Did not necessarily fit that well, just maintaining the various items on issue and learning the different types of dress and when to wear each of them. Relaxing in No. 8’s was my choice.
      • Not at all, I always managed and strived to appear well turned out. During my career as a Coxswain I worked under a martinet (a WOCOX) who could quote word-by-word, comma-by-comma from ABR41 – dress manual.
      • Well, no, but we really had no choice did we? I had all my uniforms altered by an auntie on my first leave. I, like most of us, visited Glendenning & Stacey to get the tiddly gear when we eventually got to Sydney in 1964.
      • Didn’t take me long to find Glendenning and Stacy - no problem after that. I remember getting issued with all our kit and it went into those big kitbags. One of our numbers was of short stature and couldn’t lift his onto his shoulder, so they gave him a wheelbarrow to get it back to our donga.
      • My boots never did fit me correctly and I think they contributed to foot problems later in life. (I went to school in bare feet until I started high school and rarely wore shoes outside of school.) The uniforms were hardly designed for comfort, but the summer uniforms weren't too bad.
      • Still remember the victualling sailor saying, when we got our kit, ‘If it fits, bring it back and we will replace it’. An advantage was that my uncle gave me a tid uniform, complete with shot silk, faded denim colour, with individually sewn strips and extra long faded tapes. Oh, yes, and the dragons under each cuff. This was hidden under the floorboard of my locker.
      • Initially, I did not mind the fit of Pusser’s clothing. But having seen what could be done with a needle and thread, my uniform soon became transformed into a tailored look. I also learnt how to tie a tally. I ordered a tid suit when I left Leeuwin but later found out it was the wrong colour and I was not allowed to wear it at sea.
      • Because of my large size, most uniforms were either too small or too big. I put up with them, but did buy tiddly blue bells and top from Glendenning and Stacey. Plus, had one made by the tailors up top - $30, but for me $32 (extra cloth, they said). Of course Wacky Tack made me a pair of casual boots, fur-lined, in 1964. They have only recently been thrown out. But, generally - quite proud to wear the uniform.
      • Can’t remember that it bothered me at Leeuwin, but I do know that after joining the Fleet, I became a good customer of Red Anchor and Glendenning and Stacey. Was stepping ashore at Cerberus one time and fronted up to the OOD, asked permission to proceed ashore and he looked me straight in the eye and said, ‘After you change your flap front trousers for regulation issue’. No sense of humour.

      15. Did you like doing your own dhobying and ironing? Spit polishing your boots?

      • Yes, helps at home now.
      • Yes – life forming.
      • Yes, gave me a sense of responsibility.
      • Part of the routine, so got used to it. Boots were a pain.
      • Didn’t mind.
      • All part of it.
      • Was an acquired art. I still do it.
      • It was a big learning curve - still like my shoes polished (I drive the kids mad).
      • No problem for me. That's what you do when you're in the Navy.
      • Yes, was not a problem at all – still enjoy doing it.
      • I got on with it.
      • I knew how to wash, iron, polish my shoes, etc. before joining.
      • Still do it but have given up on the spit polished boots.
      • And whitening gaiters and webbing – what a thrill for all!
      • Just something required for us to do. Still do my own ironing.
      • Still do my dhobying.
      • I didn’t love it, but I did it.
      • It was OK once I got used to it.
      • Set me up for later life - ladies like men who can iron.
      • Same as before I joined.
      • Not my favourite past time.
      • Not a major problem. Another skill learnt, still apply that today.
      • Didn't bother me - had to do it before I joined.
      • Did not get over-excited, but had to be done.
      • Did not mind at all, always a bit fussy on dressing properly.
      • No. Did anyone?
      • My mother taught me proud, and I soon learnt how to spit polish boots.
      • No, but didn’t mind ironing.
      • Found most of this exercise useful – not sure about spit polishing boots.
      • Bit of a shock, but got used to dhobying clothes. Boots OK, as spent time in Cadets.
      • What a shock to the system, but I think we all assisted one another, and the pressure from our instructors was also a reason.
      • Not at the time. But have since impressed the opposite sex that I can do all those, and cook.
      • Using the copper boilers was a pain, but when I became an LJR I got to use the washing machines.
      • Spit polishing our shoes and boots was a Saturday morning job after you had cleaned up your donga. Very relaxing!
      • Yes, once I got used to doing it, it actually gave me a sense of achievement when it all worked out.
      • I had no problems with doing my chores. Spit polishing my boots was also good, as it was something else I learnt.
      • Washing and ironing was something I took pride in, and spit polishing was easy when you knew how.
      • Dhobying and polished boots, hated ironing, still do own washing and polish shoes.
      • Not really. At the time, I was terrified of kit musters. I still do my own washing and ironing.
      • Not particularly (we had a housemaid at home), but do all those tasks now (except the spit polishing).
      • Had to be done - mum was not there to do it for me. Punishment was worse than the polishing.
      • Great if you could find a washing machine. Boilers were usually good enough if you did not mind the waiting-time.
      • Keeping tabs on drying clothing and the problem of light fingered JRs and the replacement Q process.
      • Didn't mind the dhobying and ironing, but found spit polishing boots extremely frustrating - could never get the hang of it.
      • Hated polishing boots, scarred me for life. Would rather buy new shoes than polish.
      • I think that washing and ironing were fine as it made me proud to wear the uniform, plus the girls liked it when you said you could sew as well.
      • Didn't bother me - it was just routine and you had to do it or get jumped on by the instructors.
      • Never an issue for me as I did all this as a Naval Cadet prior to joining. Anyway, no one else would do it for you!
      • I considered it was all part of the experience and training required when entering any armed force.
      • Hated dhobying my clothes, but ironing was okay and spit polishing was a challenge - I didn't mind in order to get the shine.
      • These activities were part of the transition process from kid to sailor and the better (and quicker) you became at it, the easier your life became.
      • I think you would struggle to fine anyone who enjoyed having to spend time dhobying, laundry and doing the ironing! With spit polishing, it was a challenge to achieve the perfect finish.
      • It was something expected of us and was accepted as such. Throughout life I have continued to practice these habits, much to the amusement of my fellow non-military workers.
      • Not really. Things that Ma used to look after at home took a bit of getting used to. Of course I was already familiar with spit polishing boots with my Air Cadets experience, so that was something I expected.
      • I did not like it, but had to be done. Thankfully, never lost any clothing off the line. Worked hard on my boots but they were never spectacular. My son, a Lt Col, has magnificent spit polished shoes, works hard at it.
      • The biggest problem was finding a cork to stick into the old Lightburn washing machines. It was a bit of a shock when I got to the Fleet and had to do my dhobying in a rubbish bin with a prized dhoby stick.
      • Cleaning and maintenance of kit was an essential part of life back then, and if you did it right you kept out of trouble. Dhobying, ironing, polishing boots, making bunks and keeping a neat and tidy locker were all part of staying below the radar. And they are skills I still use today.
      • This was firmly drilled into us from day one at Leeuwin. Like it not, the Navy always insisted this was required, although I found on many occasions that some did not measure up. I noticed this particularly with Cerberus recruits. When I joined my first ship, Parramatta, in 1964 we were joined by a bunch of adult recruits fresh out of Cerberus - what a scruffy bunch!
      • I suppose dhobying was a bit of a pain but ironing was okay. I can remember ironing a lot of creases in lots of pairs of bell-bottoms. I also became pretty good at tying tally bands, and using beeswax on the bows to make them look tiddly. The spit polishing was okay. On one leave, the train stopped in Adelaide and the parents of one of my mates [can’t remember who] met him at the station. The youngest member of that family (a little male brat) scuffed one of my highly spit polished shoes that I had been working on during the train journey. Mongrel!
      • Loved doing my own washing and ironing, and I have a tendency to judge people by their shoes. Clean shoes formed part of my selection criteria when interviewing people for a job. I still get all the shoes in the house together and give them a bit of spit and polish. Ironing is now my therapy and there is nothing better than a big pile of ironing and several episodes of ‘Border Security’ on a Sunday night - and it also enhances my relationship with the wife. I almost forgot that the best washing machine I ever had was the plastic bin with the pogo stick - never broke down and was also good exercise.
      • Doing the dhobying was a pain, couldn’t get near the copper unless you sucked up to someone. Yep, when duty laundry party we got to use the washing machines. Well, that is, if the kellick left the door unlocked. I remember one laundry duty when were locked out. My oppo decided to go up through the manhole and unlock the door from inside. He walked on the ceiling and fell through. Told the Docky coppers that came to investigate that the ceiling exploded with the heat (asbestos?). Having to buy my own iron through the canteen, hit the back pocket. The towel got a flogging when we ironed our cloths on the study table. I think we polished our boots without thinking. It was a good social time, sitting on the grass at the back of the donger, spitting and polishing and having a good yak.

      16. Did Leeuwin practices alter your personality and help you mature?

      • It certainly did - just matured a bit too slowly.
      • Certainly did. Helped make my life easy, later in life.
      • Most certainly.
      • Yes, I matured.
      • Yes. Very much so.
      • Very much so.
      • Yes, helped me grow mentally.
      • I don't thinks so (I subsequently found I have autism).
      • Yes - made me more self-reliant.
      • Yes, very quickly.
      • I am sure they did.
      • Definitely, especially when joining the Fleet after JRTE.
      • Yes. I became more confident and grew up very quickly.
      • Made me grow up and not concentrate on my turbulent past.
      • They sure did.
      • Helped to mature us.
      • Yes, grew up fast.
      • Would say yes to mature.
      • I think so. It was new stuff and different.
      • I do not think so, but I am sure it helped me mature.
      • Yes, respect for others, always on time.
      • Anyone who didn't mature at Leeuwin, never would.
      • Definitely.
      • Leeuwin taught us discipline and mateship. I had a lot of good times with those around me.
      • Hell, yes, pretty happy all the time. Maturity - now there's a thing - I keep promising to grow up and I'm getting close now.
      • Yes, Leeuwin definitely changed my personality, for the better I think, and helped me mature.
      • This was noticeable when I returned home on leave and found it difficult to mix with old school friends.
      • My personality didn’t change much from being at Leeuwin, and I believe that maturity came on the Vampire.
      • I believe it took away our experience of being a teenager. I think we all left Leeuwin as adults in kids’ bodies.
      • Definitely, meeting friends when on leave back in Cairns indicated how much I had matured in comparison.
      • Personality - no. Mature, most definitely. After all, we were only kids - still growing up and learning who we were.
      • Sure. Especially having to box, and as I was told my first fight was to box a South Australian Golden Gloves champ in Rod K.
      • It enabled us to mature in an ordered and disciplined environment, giving us a good grounding to join our place in the Fleet.
      • Definitely. When I was on my first long leave I noticed that a lot of my civilian friends seemed a bit different and possibly immature.
      • Not sure about personality, but one certainly achieved great self-discipline and maturity.
      • Absolutely! I found that later in working life, I would be commended on my mature approach.
      • One would have to be brain dead if one’s personality and maturity were not affected and developed. The maturity thing is still a work-in-progress.
      • Definitely. It was so evident when I went on my first long leave. I had matured well beyond those that I had been to school with the previous year.
      • Gave me more confidence and I am sure most parents said, when we went home on leave, ‘It’s a bloody miracle’.
      • Absolutely, it moulded me to be more mature and confident in what I did and now do. Attending seminars by Robert Kyosaki have also been a benefit.
      • Definitely – perhaps a little too fast, as you missed the adolescent teen years that your friends had back home.
      • Absolutely, we had to learn to live together to survive the so-called hardships.
      • Not sure. The following year out in the Fleet and the world certainly did, though.
      • I think so, although I was always charming, wonderful and all grown up from the age of three!
      • Yes, they did the best I could have hoped for. Maturity - I guess that took a while, as we were very regimented in that first three years.
      • To a degree. I worked in a sawmill for about five months before Leeuwin - hard physical work that toughened me up and taught me to get out of bed and be on time.
      • I believe so. I left with a much wider view of the world; was more mature, physically very fit and had no major problems living with a bunch of like-minded young blokes.
      • I don’t think my personality was altered, but maturing process was definitely accelerated by being at Leeuwin. The sink-or-swim process was a strong motivator!
      • Yes it did. Whether it made me mature or not - I could not answer, as the discipline made bullies. For those that were not accepted, I believe many of their personalities were subdued and not allowed to develop.
      • I guess it taught me all about authority and responsibility, and the one thing I did learn is that you had to know how to ‘play the game’ and, if you got caught out, you had to grin and bear it.
      • I remember that the Junior Sailors had a mess party and we had to give them our chairs for the night. They said to report any damage to the chairs once we got them back and the one that I received had a big cut in the seat, so I duly reported the damage and promptly got run in for damaging the chair, from memory I got 5 days chooks. Lesson learned, never volunteer anything!
      • Yes, for sure. I recall when I got back home after graduating from Leeuwin, how my attitude to my old mates and family seemed to have changed. Old mates, parents and siblings somehow seemed to be just that little bit less disciplined, coordinated, organised and considerate of others than I expected. Their civvy way of life no longer seemed to fit with my new view of how things should be. I was keen to get to my first sea draft for further training, and to have the opportunity for more shore leave and freedom in Sydney.

      17. Did you leave Leeuwin in a better frame of mind than when you joined?

      • Yes, I only wish that more teenagers had the opportunity today.
      • Would have to say yes.
      • I believe I was in a fairly good frame of mind in the first place.
      • I would have to say yes to this. Much more confident and mature.
      • Certainly had a different outlook on life - and for the better.
      • I certainly did.
      • I believe so.
      • Yes, LCDR Bill S was a good mentor.
      • I was glad/ready to leave.
      • Yes, I am sure I did.
      • Yes. My horizons were broadened and I looked forward to many new ones.
      • Don't know.
      • Certainly – felt I had a great future.
      • Yes. It opened up a whole new world out there.
      • Yes – older, wiser.
      • Yes, but a little more unsure of the future.
      • Much better. I felt I could make a difference.
      • Yes, I’d say so. I had more purpose, more of a direction to follow.
      • Yes, definitely. I felt a sense of achievement.
      • Not particularly, it just re-enforced my upbringing.
      • Of course.
      • Relief that I could finally get my hands on my full pay, and felt much freer.
      • Yes - more mature.
      • I hope I did.
      • I was quite happy to leave and was looking forward to joining my first ship.
      • Huh huh.
      • Quite a bit.
      • Yes, at least I was going to see the world at Pusser’s expense, and do what I wanted to do (trade wise).
      • I was a school kid with a job when I joined Leeuwin. I left fit, full of self-confidence and with some great mates.
      • That is a question that is hard to quantify. I do believe that I was well prepared for a start in my Navy career, with a mindset to do it.
      • Absolutely – was able to assimilate with Navy routines and work with confidence.
      • Leeuwin, for me, was something that I think was the most challenging and rewarding time of my Naval career.
      • I was very shy when I joined, but after 12 months at Leeuwin I was very confident.
      • Yes. I came from a farming background that was very lonely. Both my sisters were away at school, boarding.
      • I think that, when I joined, I really knew what I had gotten into - and as I became a good little sailor, my outlook changed as the Navy wanted it to.
      • Prepared me for the big wide world - thought the guys that I went to school with were still kids.
      • A very complicated question to answer. Having wanted to join the Navy from about the age of 8, it was just another stepping stone to my desired end game.
      • Not sure about frame of mind, but certainly was much more worldly-wise and confident that I could handle anything placed before me. I was ready to become involved in the real Navy.
      • Definitely, but with a lot more to learn once you reached your state of maturity and Naval career with its ongoing ups and downs. That’s service life – you just get used to it!
      • Certainly, left me with a sense of purpose and life long friendships that I don't think would have happened if I hadn't joined the Navy. Best decision I ever made.
      • Leeuwin was good for me, and something similar this day and age would certainly benefit all, including society. I think so, because the training was over and we were now going to sea to do what we joined up to do.
      • I was in a rut at school, struggling with my future career prospects. I wouldn’t say I was in a better frame of mind when I left Leeuwin, but I was in a more confident frame of mind and looking forward to what lay ahead.
      • Yes. On joining Leeuwin, there was a lot of natural uncertainty - and new experiences and meeting new people all lay ahead. By the time I left, I had a lot more confidence about Pusser’s in general, team work, discipline, a better appreciation for the value of training and education and I was physically a lot fitter. I knew I was still in Pusser’s and had to toe the line, but suddenly I felt free.
      • Don’t know what to say here. I suppose it would have been exciting to be finally joining the ‘real’ Navy. I suppose the only time I felt dejected was when we sailed on Melbourne for the States and I put in a request to cease shaving. One day out of Hawaii, we had to muster in the Master at Arms flat and I will never forget hisTim C’s words when he got to me, ‘I don’t think so, sailor’.
      • I left Leeuwin in a good frame of mind, but on joining HMAS Sydney in 1964, I saw a dockyard worker killed after he fell into the dry dock. Bruce D was on a bosun’s chair, painting the port forward gun sponson, and I heard a scream. My thoughts were that my oppoBruce had fallen into the dry dock, but on looking down saw the dockyard worker lying on the dockyard floor. This caused me a lot of problems over the next 18 months or so.

      18. Would you like your time again in Leeuwin?

      • Couple of changes, but yes.
      • Yes, wouldn’t mind being 15 again!
      • Yes, if I were 50 years younger and know what I know now!
      • If I was 50 years younger, maybe.
      • Not now - not wet behind the ears now.
      • As an instructor.
      • Only as a 15 year old.
      • Too old now.
      • At that age, I would not hesitate to do it again.
      • Yes, but I would have to be sixteen.
      • Only if I could be 16 again.
      • Me. no. My grandkids, yes.
      • No. Too bloody old now, Ron!
      • Yes, if I knew what I know now.
      • Knowing what I know now - yes, maybe, I think.
      • Maybe – 9 months instead of 12 would be better.
      • Yes, but didn’t enjoy every day of my time there.
      • No way. The old bones could not handle it anymore.
      • If I were sixteen again, I would do the same thing.
      • Yes, wouldn't it be great - especially with current knowledge?
      • Knowing what I know now – yes.
      • Yes, when we did it. But not in this day and age.
      • I would have to think seriously about that.
      • Why not!
      • A good experience, I believe, for all who graduated.
      • At my age now - no. At 16 - yes.
      • Yep, in a heartbeat.
      • Yes, and I would fill in Tits P and Stroppy R who were real bastards.
      • Yes, it was an experience all young men should go through.
      • Only if I could be 16 again.
      • For sure! I wouldn’t fool around anywhere near as much.
      • Not at my age now, but would do the same thing again if I was 15½.
      • I would do it again, but I think I would be a writer and have all night in the fart sack rather than 1/3 of the day down the hole.
      • Only if LS UW Stan D was there. I would be able to square up. I think I still owe him one.
      • Probably not, I would probably wait until I was 17 and join as a so-called adult entry.
      • In this day and age I can’t imagine what sort of woozy, politically correct, cotton wool wrapped, holiday camp the Navy would make of it.
      • Yes, if only for the great experience it was and how it shaped my life for the better. I would probably make all the same silly mistakes.
      • No, not really. I enjoyed my time then and reminiscing over the good times. But I am a pa now, and I like to spin warries to my grand kids.
      • If I knew what I know now, I would go back (like most) and do it all over again.
      • No, once was enough as, in the end, the Navy had paled and I saw no place for me.
      • No, I had my time at Leeuwin. What I would like is for other youngsters to have the same experience we had.
      • I would do it again without a blink. I enjoyed my time at Leeuwin, great memories, mostly good, very few negatives (if any).
      • I still have dreams about it, although I am usually my current age serving with 15 year olds. I never regretted joining.
      • No, I move on and rarely, if ever, get nostalgic. But I’m glad I did it once, even though I didn’t like it all the time. After all, if I hadn’t gone to Leeuwin I might be dead (see the movie Sliding Doors).
      • Yes. I would like to make amends for being so dumb and not getting up at the dances and trying to win the hearts of the young ladies. Wish I had met B sooner than I did.
      • They should be running places like Leeuwin for all youth (compulsory) for both genders. That would instill some discipline and the lost art of common sense.
      • With some of the things that later emerged, I would not like to have been on the receiving end of that treatment. I would not like to do time there again if that was present.
      • Knowing what I know now, I think I would do it all again. I have no regrets about Leeuwin, notwithstanding some of the management practices that we would consider, by today’s standards, to be quite poor.
      • I accept the Navy is not a life for everyone and even some, as it turned out, did not enjoy all of what Leeuwin provided. I am not sure the modern Navy is something that would appeal to me. However, again in the same time frame, in a heart beat. And not just to be 56 odd years younger, although that would be nice.
      • Don’t we all want to be young again and know what we know now? But to answer the question, yes, I could and probably would do it again. Mind you, back then I didn’t have much of a choice growing up in a small country SA town. My dad said I had to either join the police force or the Navy, and at that age I chose to see a bit more of the world. I now know that I made the right choice.

      19. Do you think Leeuwin served its purpose in readying you for the Fleet?

      • Definitely it was great preparation for what was to come.
      • Undoubtedly.
      • Did a great job.
      • A lot to learn in such a short time. Training and readiness seemed appropriate.
      • Absolutely.
      • Definitely.
      • Yes, in it’s own way.
      • Definitely.
      • It helped, but at sea life was very different.
      • Not really - we were still boys when we went to the Fleet.
      • It certainly helped. Really enjoyed my time there.
      • Yes, along with the time spent at sea as an Ordinary Seaman.
      • Yes, it certainly did. I achieved everything I wanted from my Navy time.
      • Yes, would have been a shock to go to sea otherwise.
      • Definitely.
      • Most definitely.
      • Yes, along with the Ords (Venomous) training on Sydney.
      • On the whole, yes.
      • Much so.
      • For sure.
      • It was a very different Navy on the ships.
      • Yes, for being a Signalman on a ship, but no way for being in a dead-end shore establishment.
      • In some ways (how to get on etc.), but as for seamanship it left a bit to be desired.
      • It gave the base grounding but the Ord (Various) process was the most valuable in Fleet readiness.
      • Most definitely, although I didn’t expect to be involved in a major collision at sea within a month of joining my first ship.
      • Yes. It prepared us for a career in the RAN, because we spent 12 months being brain washed.
      • Most certainly, maybe they should introduce national service again; get a few of those on the dole.
      • Certainly prepared us as Ords to enter the Fleet – we all had a lot more work to do.
      • Yes, to a degree, although the Fleet was entirely different. But the fundamentals were taught.
      • There is absolutely no doubt that this was one of the best initiatives that the RAN employed. Adrian Cummings has a lot to answer for.
      • Yes, apart from calling everyone ‘sir’. Part of ship - day 1 on Vamps (HMAS Vampire), ‘I am not an officer; I work for a living. You can call me Max or Petty Officer if you want’.
      • Yes, it did, but not for the events that occurred on the 10th February 1964 that will always play on my mind, but will not spoil my wonderful time in the Navy, which I will always cherish.
      • The Fleet was a great, diverse service/workforce with skills, leadership and management training that prepared me for a most successful post-service career, and happy life.
      • Definitely, but with a lot more to learn once you reached your state of maturity and Naval career with its ongoing ups and downs. That’s service life – you just get used to it.
      • Yes. Being on the Topman’s Course I had an extra 6 months at Leeuwin which probably also helped. But I am sure that I was prepared as much as I could be to go to sea.
      • I had a great time in the Navy, saw a lot of the world, was lucky to be posted to some great ships: Snipe, Waratah, Perth, Derwent, Duchess, but unfortunately did not get a lot of shore time - and once I was married and had kids it was a bit of a drag.
      • In some ways it did prepare us for the real world, but things are different once you are designated to a specific ship. I did travel the world around the Pacific basin, on both the West and Eastern sides. Nice also being paid an overseas allowance to help.
      • I am earnestly of the opinion that Leeuwin not only achieved it’s objective but significantly exceeded expectation. I served twenty years, and over that period of time I generally formed the opinion that a Leeuwin trained sailor was a better-equipped sailor in mind, attention to detail, and turn out.
      • Generally yes, the main problem was that a lot of ships were not ready for young JRs and considered us to be one step up from a garden gnome. As a JR I first went to Duchess, which was not very pleasant, then posted as a JR to Vampire, which was a totally different and more enjoyable ship.
      • Sometimes I wonder at Fleet wisdom. Recently read Dolly's account of our deployment to the USA as commissioning crew for HMAS Perth. We had just finished our Engineering course and ended up doing everything but what we had been trained for. It put us behind the eight ball in respect of promotion.
      • I think it did serve its purpose, and I believe it was sad when Leeuwin paid off. JRs used to cop a bit of flack but I really believe that, for many years, they were the backbone of the Navy, and one only has to look back at how long a majority of JRs spent in the Navy and the number of senior positions they served in.
      • Maybe you could be the judge of that - 2 weeks at West Head learning how to be a shell handler, then the Vampire, our first sea voyage was to bury some bodies from the Voyager, then to the Far East, didn't get that far, spent most of the 9 month trip involved in the Borneo confrontation, sitting in the magazine fusing 4.5" shells at 17 didn't really comprehend the possible outcome, seeing dead bodies, and then back for another 4 months.
      • Having spent the last of my postings in Defence Recruiting, Canberra, and knowing the original philosophy and reasoning behind the Junior Recruit programme, it certainly provided what it set out to do. Was it economical - who knows? Did Leeuwin prepare us for sea - I really believe it did, especially during the period that Intake 6 went directly to sea from Leeuwin, prior to rate qualifying, as what we were taught was in use immediately.
      • Yes, in most aspects - particularly of a personal nature. I was a confident young man ready to face the future. Still had to learn beer drinking, and still haven’t completed the long course! There certainly must have been something there, as I ended up retiring as a Commander Aeronautical Engineer after 42 year of service, which was followed by a further 5 years Active Reserve at 3 days per week. You remember the Sea King BOI, Ron! Finally, I would like to add that Ken R had a significant influence on me personally during my time at Leeuwin and I thank him sincerely for that.
      • I thought so, but sleeping in a hammock was new and watch-keeping on an open bridge in foul weather was new to me. The older sailors were generally very good to us but there was the odd smart one. I will never forget Eric R, as he was 2 of the left in A turret on Duchess and I was 3 of the left. Very nice bloke, and a Voyager survivor, with a BEM from then. Unfortunately, he passed away before I could ever catch up. But really, Leeuwin, in retrospect, was good and we knew most of what to expect when joining the Fleet.
      • Yes, we had a very good understanding of seamanship and were able to slot into our allocated part-of-ship with minimal hassle. To be able to post onto a ship and, by looking at the ABC markings, know where you were and find your destination below decks. I joined the Melbourne on the day before she sailed for ‘up top’ after a crash draft from Vampire and it was the skills that I learnt at Leeuwin that allowed me to find the Ships Office, a bunk and my kit locker, as everyone was too busy getting ready to sail to help an OD. Yes, even the bedding store had to be accessed through a closed hatch.
      • Yes, I think it did. I joined an aircraft carrier and I think I made a positive contribution to the operations of the ship, even though much of the work was menial. I can’t imagine leaving school as a 16 year old and joining a ship without going through that one-year transition from schoolboy to sailor. On the other hand, it didn’t prepare us all that well for the experience of going ashore, bars, bargirls, drinking, raffles at the Rockers, drag queens at The Jewel Box, swoopers at Johnnies, prostitutes, police, Darlinghurst Gaol, courts, unprotected sex and using a watering can to drain purple water into the eye of one’s penis for two weeks until the pox doctor (sorry, ship’s doctor) would finally relent and provide an antibiotic injection.
      • Well, I think it did in many respects, but where it failed was in lack of follow-up and general failure to warn us about some of the less savoury aspects of life in the Fleet. Of course, upon graduation I was only 16y, 10m, notwithstanding I was mature and experienced beyond my years, but still quite immature in many respects. Life in Pusser’s as a junior sailor after Leeuwin still had many tough lessons to hand out. In a way, Leeuwin was a collective mentor that stopped abruptly on graduation. On joining the Fleet, I quite suddenly found myself without a life coach or mentor and having to survive in a completely new world, still without family or old friends to turn to. It was a bit of a shock, notwithstanding onboard discipline and routine. Of course, I made new friends with contemporaries, but it was hard being the mess deck junior, chief shit kicker, occasional captain of the heads and general low-life. Lack of mentoring or having a buddy system for continued training, growth or development to build on the Leeuwin experience was a real weakness and it led to me going off the rails at times. I think I should also mention here the shock and horror we received with the news of the Voyager sinking while I was still at Leeuwin, and the loss of life, including some JRs. We were also aware of the Indonesian Confrontation and the role of the FESR. I certainly had a nervous expectation that, upon joining the Fleet, I too may soon be in harm’s way.

      • 20. Are you involved in any Service Organisation now?
      • RSL.
      • Yes. 5 ESO + 16 years as an Advocate and still doing it.
      • Local RSL.
      • Only the RSL.
      • RSL.
      • Legacy.
      • RSL and our group.
      • No. Was a RSL member, but no longer so.
      • Yes. GC Dist. Dep Pres. Local RSL Board.
      • RSL life member.
      • On the sub committee at local RSL.
      • Only RSL.
      • NAA.
      • Not really.
      • Was involved in Naval Assoc. RSL.
      • Local RSL, ex Treasurer of local legacy.
      • Not at the moment, as we are still travelling.
      • Yes, the local RSL.
      • Only local sub branch.
      • RSL, Vietnam Veterans Association, Clearance Divers Association.
      • RSL.
      • Only Leeuwin 63 and RANCBA (Comms).
      • Local RSL
      • RSL
      • No, just reunions and commemorations.
      • Not Service, but QFRS.
      • RSL.
      • Just finished a stint as Treasurer of the local RSL.
      • No, sadly.
      • Yes, I am the Secretary of local RSL Sub-Branch.
      • Yes, RSL and RANCBA.
      • Recently been accepted to join an RSL Sub Branch.
      • No, although I am a non-active member of the Vietnam Vets Association.
      • Only as a member of local RSL.
      • Yes, I am a compensation advocate at my local RSL, assisting serving and ex serving members battle DVA.
      • I am a member of the local RSL, and I organise the ANZAC Day and Remembrance Day ceremonies.
      • I am a member of the local RSL, and I organise the ANZAC Day and Remembrance Day ceremonies.
      • Was a member of the Navy League and the Naval Association for about 10 years, but not now.
      • No, I am not and do not want to be – which, I feel, is where Leeuwin did affect my personality.
      • No, as I live overseas, but have a small group of Aussies here, even an ex Clearance Diver. We are a group that is looking after each other.
      • HMAS Perth Association and Naval Association of Australia. I am also a member of the RSL.
      • Yes. I have been on the executive of a RSL Sub branch for 37 years and into my second year as treasurer.
      • Yes, volunteer sea rescue
      • Local RSL, ex Treasurer of local Legacy
      • Not at the moment, as we are still travelling.
      • Yes, the local RSL.
      • Only local sub branch.
      • RSL, Vietnam Veterans Association, Clearance Divers Association.
      • RSL.
      • Only Leeuwin 63 and RANCBA (Comms).
      • Local RSL
      • RSL.
      • No, just reunions and commemorations.
      • Not Service, but QFRS.
      • RSL.
      • Just finished a stint as Treasurer of the local RSL.
      • No, sadly.
      • Yes, I am the Secretary of local RSL Sub-Branch.
      • Yes, RSL and RANCBA.
      • Recently been accepted to join an RSL Sub Branch.
      • No, although I am a non-active member of the Vietnam Vets Association.
      • Only as a member of local RSL.
      • Yes, I am a compensation advocate at my local RSL, assisting serving and ex serving members battle DVA.
      • I am a member of the local RSL, and I organise the ANZAC Day and Remembrance Day ceremonies.
      • I am a member of the local RSL, and I organise the ANZAC Day and Remembrance Day ceremonies.
      • Was a member of the Navy League and the Naval Association for about 10 years, but not now.
      • No, I am not and do not want to be – which, I feel, is where Leeuwin did affect my personality.
      • No, as I live overseas, but have a small group of Aussies here, even an ex Clearance Diver. We are a group that is looking after each other.
      • HMAS Perth Association and Naval Association of Australia. I am also a member of the RSL.
      • Yes. I have been on the executive of a RSL Sub branch for 37 years and into my second year as treasurer.
      • Yes, Volunteer Sea Rescue. Who would have thought - a stoker as a radio operator!
      • Not a Service Organisation. My passion is growing orchids. I am Secretary and Treasurer of an Orchid Club, which takes up all of my spare time.
      • I have been involved in recent years with an RSL Sub-Branch. I was VP and also am still doing the local newsletter for the Sub-Branch. I am also a member on the TPI Association.
      • If you mean Military Service - no. If you mean Community Service - I have just retired from a state RFS after almost 20 years. Will probably become involved with another state RFS.
      • When I was retrenched from my job of 22 years, I took on pensions and welfare with the local RSL and HMAS Sydney Assoc. I did that for 13 years until my own health deteriorated and that of my partner.
      • Yes. I have been a member of the RSL for many years and have served as committee member, Secretary and Vice President of the local branch. I am now a member of another RSL sub-branch, having recently relocated.
      • Retired in 2016 after 30 years service in the Australian Defence Force Cadets (ADFC) – 1986-2016 serving in the Australian Army Cadets (AAC previously ACC), retired as Lieutenant Colonel, as the Senior Historian for the Corps (AAC). Member of the RSL, TPI Association, NSW Vietnam Veterans Association (inaugural Senior Vice President).
      • No. I am still heavily involved at sea through sailing. I did get a Masters ticket and operated a dive boat for a while, but mostly through private sailing of my own four yachts over the last 47 years. I have also been involved serving for a number of years on committees at the local Yacht Squadron, mainly with promotion of junior sailing and maintenance of Squadron assets.
      • I am a financial member of the RSL sub-branch (but usually only go to an RSL when at Huskisson or on Anzac days) and the Tingira Boys (I sometimes march with them on Anzac day but have yet to go to an event organised by them). I’m not involved in the running of anything. I served behind the bar of an RSL as a second job when still serving, but was fired for not being sufficiently polite to patrons.
      • Yes, I am a member of the Vietnam Veterans Association. After I left the Navy I had no contact except with a few old mates, finally joined the RSL so I could play darts. Mate asked, ‘Are you entitled to anything?’ and I said, ‘I don't really know’.  Made contact with DVA and that's when things changed (ASB, medals started arriving in the mail). Would I have ever known about all these things? So glad I made the effort to check it out.
      • I joined the RSL soon after getting out, but it took me 15 years to join the Naval Association. In hindsight I am sorry that I didn’t join sooner. I ended up as President of the local branch after a couple of years and spent several years in that position before transferring to another branch because of a change of suburbs. Was President there for one year, then transferred to yet another sub-section, until I had a request to go back to my first branch because they couldn’t get anyone to stand for President - so here I am, back where I started many years ago. I am also a member of the ANZAC Day Commemoration Committee and the Canon Garland Memorial Society. I subsequently decided to take up drum lessons, and now I am the drummer for a town brass band.


      21. Other comments?

      • Thank you, Ron, for your generous time and great effort in keeping us all in contact through your efforts.
      • Thanks, Ron, for the opportunity to think about Leeuwin again. Leeuwin wasn't all that bad for me.
      • Would have done more than 12 years, but after 2 trips up top on Melbourne, 2 trips to Vietnam on Sydney, 5 FESR on Vampire, Duchess, Parramatta, 6 escorts to Vietnam on Vampire and Duchess, 12 years was enough.
      • I only got to do 9 years, of which 8 years were fantastic. The final year on Sydney was a nightmare. I left the service and that background helped me through civilian life except for one point. The people I worked with did not have the same work ethic, so things were strained.
      • The greatest thing to happen after I got out was when I accidentally heard about a Leeuwin reunion on the Gold Coast in 2003. I made the effort and got there and, as they say, the rest is history. To you, Ron, I say thank you for making all this happen and bringing me back to the Navy family and all those true friends that I always had.
      • I would like to say again I had a great time at Leeuwin, and one of my most favoured moments was getting back after our first six months leave to find I had been selected as one of the first Leading JRs. To join Leeuwin as a 15½ year-old boy was a privilege, not only did we become good sailors - we became good citizens. Had a great life, met many good people (sailors). And the camaraderie is still there 50 years down the track.
      • Here is an interesting point, when I discharged in mid 1970 the Australian public did not want to know much about ex-servicemen and I, like many others, disassociated with service organizations. It was only through the efforts of Ron tracking me down, and the president of our local VVA becoming a neighbour, that my interest in the Service was rekindled. I then found out that I was entitled to more medals than the GSM I was awarded on Derwent and I now proudly wear them.
      • I left the Navy (free discharge) after 8 years and had a bit of a chip on my shoulder. I hated discipline outside of my actual work activities (i.e. where it encroached on my private life) and disliked officers. I had little contact with sailors and ex-sailors for several years. Later, as a branch manager for a computing company, I had Navy as one of my clients - but I didn’t disclose that I was once in the RAN. I eventually got over it and moved on. I heard about the JR reunion (2003) in Queensland, but I wasn’t going to go until my father (ex-Merchant Navy) talked me into it. And so, thanks to my dad and Ron, here I am.

       

      Appendix 3: Glossary of Terms

      This is an attempt to define some of the terms used in this report. The list is unlikely to be exhaustive and, indeed, may not be entirely accurate.

      ABCD / NBCS – Atomic or Nuclear, Biological, Chemical Defence

      Bastardisation – Umbrella term for systemic abuse

      Biffo – physical conflict

      BR68 – Manual of Seamanship Vol 2

      Civvy Street – a civvy is a civilian; a civilian is said to be in civvy street

      Comms - Communications

      Chooks – punishment, usually extra work or (at Leeuwin) parade ground exercises, sometimes involving duck-walking and holding a rifle over one’s head

      Crusher – Naval Patrolman

      Dhobying – washing oneself or one’s clothes. From a Hindi word

      Dhoby Stick – Stick with a colander type head plunged into a bucket of clothes and water several times in order to wash the clothes

      Docky Coppers – Dockyard policemen

      Donga, Donger - Dormitory

      Dogs – Dog watches, two two-hour watches (1400-1600, 1600-1800)

      ET1 – Educational Test 1

      Fart sack – bunk or hammock

      Greenie - Electrician

      HET – Higher Educational Test

      Jewell Box (The) – ‘all male review’ nightclub in Darlinghurst Road, Kings Cross, in the mid 1960s. Sailors could BYO alcohol with no cover charge

      Johnnies – Royal Naval House, Grosvenor Street Sydney. Formerly an amenities and accommodation building for sailors, now a heritage listed commercial building

      Kangaroo Court – mock court martial by one’s peers to judge and punish a sailor for some real or perceived offense, such as not washing one’s clothes

      Lol – Lots of laughs

      Mobi – Naval Apprentice (Some, tongue in cheek, say it stands for: Most Objectionable Bastards Imaginable)

      MUP – Men Under Punishment

      Nav – Navigation

      Nuggetting – having boot polish applied to one’s genitals, usually with a shoe brush. A form of bastardisation.

      OOD – Officer of the Day

      OPD – Other Protestant Denomination?

      Oppo – mate or friend

      Ords – Ordinary Seamen

      Ords (Various) – collective/generic term for Ordinary Seaman, and/or Ordinary Communicator, and/or Ordinary Electrician, etc)

      Ords (Venemous) – derogatory but amusing alternative to Ords (Various)

      OXP – Overnight Expedition – JRs dropped off at point A in the bush with leftover WW2 ration packs, a crude map and a cheap department store compass, and ordered to find their way to point B under about 40 hours, without being spotted by sentries

      POs – Petty Officers

      Prodos – protestants

      PTIs – Physical Training Instructors

      Pusser’s – the Navy

      QMG – Quarter Master Gunner

      REM – Radio Electrical Mechanic

      Rockers (the) – Rock and Roll Hotel, now the Woolloomooloo Bay Hotel

      RO – Radio Operator

      RO(S) – Radio Operator (Special)

      Schoolies – Instructors at Leeuwin

      Scran - food

      Seaman’s Mission – at different times known as the Mission to Seamen, The Flying Angel Club and the Mission to Seafarers. Located in Fremantle

      SDB – Seaward Defence Boat

      SGCE – Services General Certificate of Education

      Sheilas – females

      Short-sheeting – as a prank, shortening the sheet of another’s bunk so that, upon climbing into bed, he discovers he cannot stretch his legs

      Skulkers – malingerers, those who shirk their work

      Sparker – Radio Operator

      Sponsors – local families who hosted JRs from Leeuwin on weekends

      Squarie - girlfriend

      Swoopers – people one would hope to avoid at Johnnies

      Tiddly, Tid – non-issue Naval clothing, purchased from a store

      Warries – war stories, or stories on any subject (told as though true but may not be).





  • PAPERS IN AUSTRALIAN MARITIME AFFAIRS – NO.29


    HMAS Leeuwin:
    tHe Story of tHe rAn’S
    junior recruitS                  

    © Copyright Commonwealth of Australia 2009
    This work is copyright. Apart from any fair dealing for the purpose of study, research, criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright Act 1968, and with standard source credit included, no part may be reproduced without written permission. Inquiries should be addressed to the Director, Sea Power Centre – Australia, Department of Defence, CANBERRA ACT 2600.
    National Library of Australian Cataloguing-in-Publication entry Adams, Brian 1952 -
    HMAS Leeuwin: The Story of the RAN’s Junior Recruits
    ISSN 1327-5658
    ISBN 978-0-642-29717-4

    HMAS Leeuwin:
    tHe Story of tHe rAn’S
    junior recruitS                    
    Brian Adams

    Disclaimer


    The views expressed are the authors’ and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the Government of Australia, the Department of Defence and the Royal Australian Navy. The Commonwealth of Australia will not be legally responsible in contract, tort or otherwise for any statement made in this publication.

    Sea Power centre – Australia


    The Sea Power Centre – Australia (SPC-A), was established to undertake activities to promote the study, discussion and awareness of maritime issues and strategy within the RAN and the Defence and civil communities at large. The mission of the SPC-A is:

    • to promote understanding of sea power and its application to the security of Australia’s national interests
    • to manage the development of RAN doctrine and facilitate its incorporation into ADF joint doctrine
    • to contribute to regional engagement
    • within the higher Defence organisation, contribute to the development of maritime strategic concepts and strategic and operational level doctrine, and facilitate informed force structure decisions
    • to preserve, develop, and promote Australian naval history.
  • Comment on this Paper or any enquiry related to the activities of the SPC-A should be directed to:

    Director Sea Power centre - Australia


    Sea Power Centre - Australia Department of Defence
    PO Box 7942
    Canberra BC, ACT, 2610
    Telephone:               +61 2 6127 6512
    Facsimile:                +61 2 6127 6519
    Email:                        seapower.centre@defence.gov.au
    Internet:                   www.navy.gov.au/spc


    Papers in Australian Maritime Affairs


    The Papers in Australian Maritime Affairs series is a vehicle for the distribution of substantial work by members of the Royal Australian Navy as well as members of the Australian and international community undertaking original research into regional maritime issues. The series is designed to foster debate and discussion on maritime issues of relevance to the Royal Australian Navy, the Australian Defence Force, Australia and the region more generally.
    Other volumes in the series are:
    No. 1 From Empire Defence to the Long Haul: Post-war Defence Policy and its Impact on Naval Force Structure Planning 1945–1955 by Hector Donohue
    No. 2 No Easy Answers: The Development of the Navies of India, Pakistan, Bangladesh and Sri Lanka 1945–1996 by James Goldrick
    No. 3  Coastal Shipping: The Vital Link by Mary Ganter
    No. 4 Australian Carrier Decisions: The Decisions to Procure  HMA  Ships Albatross, Sydney and Melbourne by Anthony Wright
    No. 5 Issues in Regional Maritime Strategy: Papers by Foreign Visiting Military Fellows with the Royal Australian Navy Maritime Studies Program — 1998 edited by David Wilson
    No. 6 Australia’s Naval Inheritance: Imperial Maritime Strategy and the Australia Station 1880–1909 by Nicholas A Lambert
    No. 7 Maritime Aviation: Prospects for the 21st Century edited by David Stevens No. 8 Maritime War in the 21st Century: The Medium and Small Navy Perspective
    edited by David Wilson
    No. 9 HMAS Sydney II: The Cruiser and the Controversy in the Archives of the United Kingdom edited by Captain Peter Hore, RN
    No. 10 The Strategic Importance of Seaborne Trade and Shipping: A Common Interest of Asia Pacific edited by Andrew Forbes
    No. 11 Protecting Maritime Resources: Boundary Delimitation, Resource Conflicts and Constabulary Responsibilities edited by Barry Snushall and Rachael Heath
    No. 12 Australian Maritime Issues 2004: SPC-A Annual edited by Glenn Kerr
    No. 13 Future Environmental Policy Trends to 2020 by the Centre for Maritime Policy, University of Wollongong, edited by Glenn Kerr and Barry Snushall


    No. 14 Peter Mitchell Essays 2003 edited by Glenn Kerr
    No. 15 A Critical Vulnerability: The Impact of the Submarine Threat on Australia’s Maritime Defence 1915–1954 by David Stevens
    No. 16 Australian Maritime Issues 2005: SPC-A Annual edited by Gregory P Gilbert and Robert J Davitt
    No. 17 Australian Naval Personalities edited by Gregory P Gilbert
    No. 18 ADF Training in Australia’s Maritime Environment edited by Chris Rahman and Robert J Davitt
    No. 19 Australian Maritime Issues 2006: SPC-A Annual edited by Andrew Forbes and Michelle Lovi
    No. 20 The Russian Pacific Fleet: From the Crimean War to Perestroika by Alexey D Muraviev
    No. 21 Australian Maritime Issues 2007: SPC-A Annual edited by Andrew Forbes No. 22 Freedom of Navigation in the Indo-Pacific Region by Stuart Kaye
    No. 23 Asian Energy Security: Regional Cooperation in the Malacca Strait edited by Andrew Forbes
    No. 24 The Global Maritime Partnership Initiative: Implications for the Royal Australian Navy by Chris Rahman
    No. 25 Missing Pieces: The Intelligence Jigsaw and RAN Operations 1939-71 by Ian Pfennigwerth
    No. 26 A Historical Appreciation of the Contribution of Naval Air Power by Andrew T Ross and James M Sandison with an introduction by Jack McCaffrie
    No. 27 Australian Maritime Issues 2008: SPC-A Annual edited by Gregory P Gilbert and Nick Stewart
    No. 28 Presence, Power Projection and Sea Control - The RAN in the Gulf 1990 - 2009 edited by John Mortimer and David Stevens
    No. 29 HMAS Leeuwin: The Story of the RAN’s Junior Recruits by Brian Adams


    contents


    Papers in Australian Maritime Affairs                                                                                v
    Abbreviations                                                                                                                           viii
    About the Author                                                                                                                          x
    Foreword                                                                                                                                       xi
    History                                                                                                                                         1
    Reintroduction of the Boy Sailor Entry                                                                       11
    HMAS Leeuwin                                                                                                                      21
    The Boys                                                                                                                                  27
    Junior Recruit Education and Training                                                                        31
    Life as a Junior Recruit                                                                                                       41
    Leeuwin Staff                                                                                                                          77
    Discipline                                                                                                                                 83
    The End of Boy Sailors                                                                                                       97
    Junior Recruits Today                                                                                                    105
    Appendix                                                                                                                                    109
    Bibliography                                                                                                                              115


    Abbreviations

    ABR

    Australian Book of Reference

    ADF

    Australian Defence Force

    ADFA

    Australian Defence Force Academy

    CO

    Commanding Officer

    CPO

    Chief Petty Officer

    DCN

    Deputy Chief of Navy

    DDG

    Guided Missile Destroyer

    DNPS

    Director of Naval Personnel Services

    ET1

    Educational Test Number 1

    HET

    Higher Educational Test

    HMAS

    Her/His Majesty’s Australian Ship

    HMS

    Her/His Majesty’s Ship

    JR

    Junior Recruit

    JRTE

    Junior Recruit Training Establishment

    MUP

    Men Under Punishment

    NAA

    National Archives of Australia

    NBM

    Naval Board Minute

    NOCWA

    Naval Officer Commanding Western Australia

    NOICWA

    Naval Officer in Charge Western Australia

    PO

    Petty Officer

    PSC

    Personnel Services Committee

    PTI

    Physical Training Instructor

    RAN

    Royal Australian Navy

    RANC

    Royal Australian Naval College

    RAT

    Reallocation Test

    ROP

    Report of Proceedings


    SBD

    Seaward Defence Boat

    SGCE

    Services General Certificate of Education

    WRANS

    Woman’s Royal Australian Naval Service

    WWI

    World War I

    WWII

    World War II

    XO

    Executive Officer


    rear Admiral Brian Adams Ao, rAn (rtd)


    Rear Admiral Brian Adams AO, RAN (rtd) joined the Royal Australian Navy (RAN) as a member of HMAS Leeuwin’s 22nd junior recruit intake in January 1968. After completing the Topman course in 1969 he trained and commissioned as a seaman officer. Specialising in joint and amphibious warfare, he commanded HMA Ships Tarakan and Tobruk and trained and served with United Kingdom and United States naval and marine forces. In headquarters positions he worked in naval and joint warfare policy development, capital equipment acquisition programming, resource policy development and officer training.
    His senior appointments include command of the Royal Australian Naval College at HMAS Creswell, Jervis Bay, Director of Naval Warfare in Maritime Headquarters and Commandant of the Australian Defence Force Academy (ADFA). In the rank of rear admiral he was the Deputy Chief of Navy (DCN) from 2000 to 2002 and Head of the Defence Personnel Executive from 2002 to 2005.
    He is a graduate of the Australian Army Command and Staff College, the Joint Services Staff College and the Australian College of Defence and Strategic Studies. He holds a bachelor’s degree in arts and a master’s degree in business administration. In 1997 he was made a member of the Order of Australia for services to Australian Defence Force (ADF) warfare capability development. He was promoted to officer of the Order in 2003 for services to the ADF and the RAN as Commandant of ADFA and as DCN. He retired from permanent RAN service in June 2005.

    Over nearly 25 years, between January 1960 and December 1984, approximately 13,000 15 and 16 year old boys joined the Royal Australian Navy (RAN) as junior recruits – a group the size of our current Navy workforce. The world of the ‘JRs’, as they were called, was often a very different one from the modern entry processes to the RAN. The majority served in warships before turning 18, some experiencing active service in the Indonesian Confrontation and the Vietnam War.
    Before joining the Fleet, most of the boys trained for a year in the Junior Recruit Training Establishment located in HMAS Leeuwin, a Navy base located on the banks of the Swan River at Preston Point in Fremantle, Western Australia. Some received their junior recruit training at HMAS Cerberus, a base near Westernport south of Melbourne, Victoria.
    Most of these former Junior Recruits have retired after serving Australia in peace and war for up to 40 years. However, some still serve throughout the three Services of the Australian Defence Force. I myself joined Leeuwin as a JR in 1970, making the long train journey from Queensland to Perth to pursue what has become my life’s career in the RAN.
    This book is the story of their – our – experience while under training and of how, late in the 20th century, the Australian Navy still relied on boys to help crew its ships. It is also a record of a unique training scheme that had its origins in the Royal Navy of Nelson’s day, one that is unlikely to be used in the Australian Navy again. Paul Kerr, a junior recruit of the 60th intake, began researching and writing the story; it was completed by Brian Adams of the 22nd intake with the willing assistance of many other former junior recruits. Our gratitude is due to all of them for their tenacity and effort in recording this unusual chapter in the history of the RAN.
    Vice Admiral RH Crane, AM, CSM, RAN Chief of Navy
    Canberra, December 2009


    HMAS Leeuwin situated on the banks of the Swan River at Preston Point in Fremantle, Western Australia (RAN)


    History


    Royal Australian Navy (RAN) practices have in very many ways followed closely those of the British Royal Navy, the navy in which its historical roots lie. This was true of its approaches to recruiting and staffing when, early in the 20th century, the Royal Navy provided a ready template for the development of its fledgling Australian counterpart.
    While Royal Navy regulations of the 18th and 19th centuries did specify a minimum age of 13 for the recruitment of boys, or 11 for the son of a naval officer, they were widely ignored and abused until the British Admiralty properly began to enforce them in 1815.1 Boys of nine, and indeed some as young as six, served in warships during the Revolutionary and Napoleonic wars. The youngest member of Admiral Nelson’s crew in HMS Victory during the Battle of Trafalgar was a 10-year-old boy, John Doag of Edinburgh.2 While a popular image of these boys may be that of a midshipman in the Hornblower caste or the ‘powder monkey’ of Hollywood movies, the reality was different. A formal or official rank or rating of ‘boy’ did not exist until late in the 19th century and, in the main, boys were employed in ships as servants, or apprentices as they were called, allotted to various officers to undertake menial jobs.
    Underprivileged boys were once a useful source of manpower for both the Royal and Merchant navies. Several organisations provided boys as a by-product of their charitable work. For example, the Marine Society founded in 1756 by Jonas Hanway, focused on boys aged from 12 to 17. Most of the boys cared for by the Society between 1703 and 1815 were unwanted illegitimate children, orphans or boys guilty of a minor crime. As an act of charity the Society fed and clothed them and gave them a little education and an exposure to the basics of seamanship. After a period of weeks the boys would be drafted into sea service, mostly to warships but in peacetime often to merchant ships.3
    Whether they arrived from charitable organisations or not, once in a warship the under- 15s could be rated third-class boys and those between 15 and 18 were second-class boys, both quite distinct from the midshipmen of the first class (officer). The numbers of boys permitted in each ship was regulated. In larger ships a maximum of 13 second- class boys could be borne while up to 19 third-class boys could serve in the largest warships. They were generally employed as officer’s servants before they were 15.4
    The nature of boys’ employment at sea changed and improved considerably after the Napoleonic War. More concern was shown for the boys’ welfare, education and their value to the Royal Navy as future sailors. As stated in an 1853 Admiralty Circular:
    All boys … may be employed as servants … but all officers in command are to take care that the employment of boys in this capacity does not, on any account interfere with their systematic schooling, instruction in gunnery, exercise aloft, and other branches of a seaman’s duty; or in useful trades of which they may possess a knowledge.5

    In 1854 the British Admiralty began using square-rigged sailing ships as training vessels for boys. Later that century some of these vessels, stripped of most of their rigging, were moored as ‘hulks’ in a number of English ports including Falmouth, Portland and Portsmouth. There they were used as immobile training schools and accommodation barracks. One hulk, that of HMS Ganges, gave its name to what became in 1905 part of the Royal Navy Training Establishment Shotley, a barracks near Ipswich devoted to the training of boy seamen. By the time the Ganges training scheme ended in 1976, 150,000 boys had passed through it and the term ‘Shotley Boy’ had become part of Royal Navy vernacular.6

    Australian colonial navies


    Under the Colonial Naval Defence Act 1865 the governments of Queensland, Victoria, Tasmania and South Australia were permitted to operate armed ships in their own territorial waters. The various governments relied on part-time militiamen to man their ships with the crews comprised principally of ‘public servants whose wages were voted each year by the colonial parliaments’ and ‘ex-Royal Navy personnel, having legitimately taken their time on the … [Australia] Station’.7 State militias augmented the crews of these vessels for training periods or in times of tension but the men provided were not youngsters, ‘they tended to be mature men, employed in occupations associated with the water’.8
    While boys may not have been employed in the Australian colonial navies, boy seaman certainly served in Australia as crew members of Royal Navy ships deployed to the Australia Station. Service on the Station seems to have been very attractive to some boys not for professional reasons but for the prospect of abruptly severing ties with their employer. In the 1870s Commodore James Goodenough, RN, reported that ‘eight lads, under 18 years of age, have been decoyed away from HMS Pearl, Sydney’.9
    While the colonial navies did not include boys in their crews, civilian authorities had great interest in the utility of ships and naval training in helping to deal with troubled youth. In Victoria, ‘Industrial’ and reformatory schools were established both on land and in hulks under the provisions of the Neglected and Criminal Children’s Act 1864. Victorian state records show that ‘boys on the boys training ship Nelson and the reformatory [ship]
    … Sir Harry Smith were to be trained as sailors’.10 Nelson was used in a reformatory role from August 1864 and received its first draft of boys to ‘naval training’ in June 1865.11 An indication of how the reformatory ship scheme was used in Victoria can be seen in a reference made in Victorian state records to a boy named ‘Doolan’. Born on 28 April 1856 in Castlemaine, Victoria, he was committed for trial in the circuit court on a charge of grievous bodily harm. For his crime the boy was sentenced to a year in Sir Harry Smith by Chief Justice Sir William Stawell.12 A year of naval training and reform seems to have little beneficial effect on the boy as ‘Doolan’, whose real name was Jack Dooling, went on to achieve notoriety as the bushranger referred to in the folk song Wild Colonial Boy.

    New South Wales took a similar approach to using ships and naval training to deal with juvenile delinquents. In 1866 the New South Wales Government used the old sailing ship Vernon moored in Sydney Harbour as a school ship for child offenders. In 1890 another old sailing ship, Sobraon, replaced Vernon. Moored off Cockatoo Island as a ‘Nautical School Ship’, Sobraon served in the role until 1911. By 1905 the Department of Public Instruction administered two industrial schools, Sobraon for boys and Parramatta for girls, and two reformatories, the Carpentarian Reformatory for boys and the Shaftesbury Reformatory for girls. The Carpentarian Reformatory at Eastwood in many ways followed the regime on Sobraon. Over 5000 boys who had been committed by the Children’s Court passed through the Reformatory, dressed in naval uniform, sleeping in hammocks, and conducting their daily activities to the sound of a ship’s bell rung from outside the Superintendent’s office, a location referred to as the ‘quarterdeck’. At the Mettray Agricultural School boys were trained for the navy and slept in hammocks.13 Naval procedures were clearly highly regarded as a means of reforming wayward boys.
    Despite the strong emphasis on naval training and life at sea in the reformation of juveniles there was no direct connection between RAN recruitment and the reformatory ships and floating industrial schools. The aim seems simply to have been, as HJ Thurston puts it, ‘to encourage young lads to join the navy or merchant service’.14 The use of hulk ships and naval training as a means of dealing with troubled youth fell out of favour early last century. However, there exists in Australia today, and indeed in many parts of the world, a strong belief in the beneficial effects for youth of sail training and life in ships. The British Government’s 1988 Bicentennial gift to Australia, the brigantine Young Endeavour, is today operated full time at public expense by the RAN on behalf of the Federal Government’s Young Endeavour Youth Scheme. The scheme provides young Australians with a ‘unique, challenging and inspirational experience that increases their self awareness, develops their teamwork and leadership skills and creates a strong sense of community responsibility’.15

    the beginnings of the rAn


    Following the post-Federation transfer of the colonial naval forces to federal control the question arose as to how these forces should or could be developed into a stronger, unified Commonwealth navy. The matter was to be a source of vigorous debate in Australia and Britain over the next decade. It was resolved to some degree when, at the Imperial Conference in 1909, a British initiative led to raising of ‘Fleet Units’. These were forces of armoured and unarmoured cruisers, destroyers, submarines and auxiliaries that, in Australia’s case, could provide for the nation’s coastal defence and operate away from Australia as part of much larger British imperial forces. Acceptance of the British offer presented the Australian Government and its Director of Naval Forces, Captain William Rooke Creswell, RAN, with a number of very difficult problems to overcome, one of which was how to provide trained crews for the ships

    of their fleet unit. In 1911, as part of the task of defining the nature of the relationship between the Royal Navy and the RAN following the passing of the Australian Naval Defence Act in November 1910, it was decided that there would be such commonality between the way that both navies’ officers and sailors were trained so that they would be interchangeable.16 This ‘confirmation that RAN personnel were to be wholly interchangeable with those of the Royal Navy’ was ‘one of the most significant aspects of the fleet unit scheme, and certainly the one with the longest lasting impact’.17
    As David Stevens says in The Royal Australian Navy, ‘acquiring ships was a relatively simple matter. The far greater difficulty was to organise the personnel’.18   To crew its fleet the new navy had to expand from the 400 men it had in 1911 to a force of at least 3400, 20 per cent of which needed technical skills. To meet its needs the RAN established boy entry and adult entry sailor training schemes.
    To train the adults the RAN relied on existing facilities at Flinders Naval Depot, a former Victorian Navy establishment located near Westernport in the state’s south. Commissioned as HMAS Cerberus on 1 April 1921, it remains the Navy’s principal sailor training establishment. Initial adult enlistment was for five to seven years, and those who wished to join had to be ‘smart active youths and young men between the ages of seventeen and 25 years, of very good character’. Recruiting was good:
    By March 1913, the RAN had 1004 men under training, and to further restrict applications the board raised the age of entry for adult recruits. In June 1913 the RAN’s personnel strength reached 2500, supplemented with the loan of 900 seamen from the Royal Navy.19
    To cater for boy sailor entrants the Commonwealth purchased Sobraon from the New South Wales Government for £15,000. The 55-year-old hulk was converted for employment as a boys training ship with a capacity of 300 and, on 25 April 1912, it commissioned into the RAN as HMAS Tingira, an aboriginal word meaning ‘ocean’ or ‘open sea’.20 The name change was significant as it was intended to assist in differentiating between Sobraon’s former reform school role and Tingira’s naval training function.21 To further illustrate its desire to differentiate between reform and naval training the Navy stipulated that ‘boys who have been in prisons or reformatories are not received’.22 Two months later the ship accepted the first entry of 37 boys ranging from 14 to 16 years of age who, with the consent of their parents or guardians, were enlisted to serve until they were 18-years-old, and then for seven years thereafter.
    No longer a sea going vessel Tingira was moored permanently at Rose Bay in Sydney Harbour. With a white hull, yellow painted lower masts and a canvas awning covering the main deck she was a prominent feature of the harbour. The ship was supported in its training role by shore facilities including a sick bay for the boys in Kent Hall, named after the Duke of Kent, located on the corner of New South Head Road and Vickery Avenue. Drill, gunnery practice and sports activities were conducted by the boys on

    grounds at nearby Lyne Park. Tingira was both a school and barracks. Boys underwent a year of training in her as either seamen, stokers, signalmen or telegraphists before being sent to sea to complete their training. The Navy intended from the outset that it would be from these boys that it would later choose its warrant officers, specifically gunners, boatswains, signal boatswains and warrant telegraphists.23 Clearly, the RAN saw Tingira as much more than an industrial school, as recruiting material stated:
    The boys will undergo a discipline that should inculcate in them valuable habits of promptitude and exactness, factors making for the building up of character. Then, as a result of their Naval training, many boys will doubtless form loftier notions of all that is conveyed in the words ‘Duty’, ‘Honour’, and ‘Conduct’, so obliging themselves for the praiseworthy discharge of their obligations of citizenship, when they arrive at man’s estate.24

    HMAS Tingira (RAN)


    William Evan Allan trained as a boy sailor in HMAS Tingira
    in 1914 and 1915. Born in 1899 he died aged 106,
    the last Australian naval veteran of World War I (Allan Family)

    Life in Tingira was not easy for the boys. The day started at 0530 and boys were kept busy training until ‘turn in’ time at 2130. Training included seamanship, rope and wire work, splicing, rowing and sailing, signalling, anchor work, mechanics and firearms, as well as general schooling. Corporal punishment was meted out for indiscretions and there was a strong emphasis placed on physical fitness, sports and games. Swimming was compulsory and boys participated in some form of physical activity every day. Leave was limited to 5 hours ashore between 1300 and 1830 each Wednesday afternoon. ‘Natives’, boys whose homes were in Sydney, were permitted to go home each week from midday Saturday until early Sunday evening. In the words of one Tingira boy ‘from this routine emerged fit and healthy boys well trained to take their place in the Fleet’.25
    Tingira boys saw service in both world wars, in the Korean War and in the Malayan Emergency. After HMAS Sydney (I) sank the German warship SMS Emden her commanding officer (CO) Captain JCT Glossop, RN, ‘confirmed the splendid conduct of the sixty men and boys from Tingira’.26 Interestingly, the RAN’s last World War I (WWI) veteran was a Tingira boy. Born on 24 July 1899 in Bega, New South Wales, William Allan enlisted as a 14-year-old on 13 March 1914. He trained in Tingira before joining the light cruiser HMAS Encounter, his first ship in a career which spanned 33 years, encompassed two world wars and saw him retire as a commissioned officer.27 The boy believed to be the first to enter the Tingira training scheme was Mortimer Froude who, aged 18 and after transferring to the Royal Navy, died in the Battle of Jutland when his ship, the old armoured cruiser HMS Defence, blew up.28
    The Tingira boy sailor training scheme was effective in producing quality sailors for the Navy but while it remained a very popular avenue of entry the Naval Board found in 1925 that insufficient funds had been allocated to crew the new ships ordered. Attempts were made to save money by reducing the size of some ship’s companies but these measures proved inadequate. The Board therefore decided to achieve a major cost saving by abandoning Tingira and the boys training scheme. Tingira’s closure in August 1926 had two unfortunate immediate effects; it placed additional pressure on adult recruit training in Cerberus and shut down an effective avenue of sailor entry at a time when the RAN still struggled to meet recruiting targets.29 By the time Tingira decommissioned on 27 June 1927, 3168 boys had trained in her.30
    Accounts vary as to the how Tingira was used after its retirement from naval service. Some have it being used at different times as a coal hulk, a storage ship and a hostel for destitute men during the Great Depression. In 1932, it was said to have been used as a viewing platform for spectators at the opening of the Sydney Harbour Bridge. At one stage it was purchased by a Major Friere and Louise Ankin who planned to turn it into a maritime museum.31 This plan did not happen and, after a period moored in Berry’s Bay, it was finally broken up in 1942 by its owner, Karlo Selvinen.32

    endnotes



    1      J Laffin, Jack Tar: The Story of the British Sailor, Castle and Company, London, 1969, p. 33.
    2      P Whitlock and W Pearce, HMS Victory and Admiral Lord Nelson, Portsmouth Royal Naval Museum Trading Company, Portsmouth, UK (undated), p. 9.
    3      Laffin, Jack Tar , p. 34.
    4      S Pope, Hornblower’s Navy: Life at Sea in the Age of Nelson, Orion Media, London, 1998, pp. 49 and 50.
    5      Admiralty Circular 121, Regulations for the Entry of Boys and Men into the Navy - Pay - Leave
    - Gratuities - Pensions and the Pay of Warrant Officers, British Admiralty, United Kingdom, 14 June 1853.
    6 For an account of 20th century life in Shotley see D Phillipson, Band of Brothers: Boy Seamen in the Royal Navy 1800–1956, Sutton Publishing, 2003.
    7 B Nicholls, ‘Sailors to Citizens, Citizens and Sailors, Citizens to Sailors: Naval Men and Australia from 1788 to 1914’, in D Stevens & J Reeve (eds), The Navy and the Nation: The Influence of the Navy on Modern Australia, Allen and Unwin, Sydney, Australia, 2005, p. 278.
    8      Nicholls, ‘Sailors to Citizens, Citizens and Sailors’, p. 278.
    9      Nicholls, ‘Sailors to Citizens, Citizens and Sailors’, p. 273.
    10  Prisons and Youth Training Centres, Record Group VRG 9, Public Record Office of Victoria.
    11  C Jones, Australian Colonial Navies, Australian War Memorial, Canberra, 1986, p. 25.
    12  Australian Dictionary of Biography Online, 28 Sep 2008, <www.adb.online.andu.edu.au> (October 2008).
    13  P Quinn, Unenlightened Efficiency: The Administration of the Juvenile Correction System in New South Wales 1905–1988, PhD Thesis, University of Sydney, 2004, pp. 44-45.
    14  HJ Thurston, The History of HMAS Tingira, Naval Historical Review, September 1979.
    15 The Young Endeavour Youth Scheme homepage, <www.youngendeavour.gov.au> (October 2007).
    16 B Nicholls, ‘William Rooke Creswell and an Australian Navy’ in T Frame, J Goldrick and P Jones (eds), Reflections on the Royal Australian Navy, Kangaroo Press, Sydney NSW, 1991, pp. 46-48.
    17    Nicholls, ‘William Rooke Creswell and an Australian Navy’, p. 23.
    18  D Stevens (ed), The Royal Australian Navy, Oxford University Press, Melbourne, 2001, pp. 22-23.
    19  Stevens, The Royal Australian Navy, p. 23.
    20     Thurston, The History of HMAS Tingira.
    21  G Swinden, ‘HMAS Tingira 1912–1927: A Legacy of Service’, Naval Historical Review, Vol 12, No 4, December 1991, p. 27.
    22     Navy Office, How to Join the Royal Australian Navy, Navy Office, Melbourne, 1 Sep 1912, p. 13.
    23     Navy Office, How to Join the Royal Australian Navy, p. 13.

    24     Navy Office, How to Join the Royal Australian Navy, p. 6.
    25     L Boxsell, Open Sea: The Official Organ of the New South Wales Branch of the HMAS Tingira Old Boys Association, Vol 3, No 4, Jun 1970, p. 19.
    26     Stevens, The Royal Australian Navy, p. 41.
    27     M Brooke, ‘William Evan Allan: Life of a Boy Sailor’, Navy News, Vol 28 No 20, Canberra, Australia, 3 Nov 2005.
    28     Stevens, The Royal Australian Navy, p. 38.
    29     Stevens, The Royal Australian Navy, p. 76.
    30     Thurston, The History of HMAS Tingira.
    31  Open Sea, Vol 5, No 2, Dec 1974, p. 9.
    32     Thurston, The History of HMAS Tingira.


    Lionel Eggins who, after his time at Tingira, served
    in the RAN during the closing months of World War I (RAN)


    reintroduction of the Boy Sailor entry


    Throughout most of its existence the RAN has had difficulty attracting, recruiting and retaining the numbers of people it needs, particularly those with technical qualifications or the aptitude to undertake technical training once enlisted. On a number of occasions it has relied heavily on sailors recruited or on loan from the Royal Navy, technically and non-technically trained, in order to crew its ships.1 For example, in 1950 and 1951 efforts were made to recruit up to 1000 Royal Navy sailors, and more from other Commonwealth navies.
    A number of specific factors exacerbated the RAN’s staffing difficulties, some of which were beyond the capacity of its leadership to control. One factor was a ‘boom and bust’ approach to work force planning, as large and poorly controlled reductions in sailor numbers occurred after the major wars of the 20th century and during the Great Depression. Other factors were low pay, appalling living and working conditions in ships, and inadequate provision for the welfare of families of married sailors. Not all these problems were unique to the RAN but all contributed to the Navy’s inability to attract sufficient numbers of high calibre people to a long-term naval career.2
    Determined efforts were made after World War II (WWII) to find solutions to the problems of poor recruiting and retention. In 1950, women were permitted to join the permanent Navy, albeit still mostly in support roles for the men serving at sea. Reintroduced in 1951, National Service had some limited success in boosting sailor numbers until abolished in 1957.3 The RAN decided in 1951 to provide more support to the Australian Sea Cadet Council in the hope of increasing the numbers of former Sea Cadets enlisting in the Navy. Re-engagement bonuses of £250 and £500 were introduced in 1955 as an inducement for sailors to sign on for a further three or six years of service respectively. In 1956 the Royal Navy recruiting initiative was terminated because of the small number of suitable applicants it had attracted.4 In another measure designed to improve its ability to recruit from overseas, the Navy sought to adopt a common nationality requirement that would permit it to accept non-British migrants as recruits, an approach already adopted by the Army.5
    By 1957, despite these efforts the RAN’s staffing problems had become so acute more drastic action was needed. In that year a number of warships were decommissioned, thereby reducing demand for sailors and, in an effort to stabilise numbers, the RAN’s six year term of initial engagement for sailors was extended to either 9 or 12 years.6 Action was also taken to reduce the number of sailors who were not able to render effective service – referred to rather harshly but nevertheless accurately as ‘ineffectives’ – and to reduce both the number of commissioned shore establishments and the number of sailors posted to them.

    The RAN’s staffing problems were exacerbated by the increasing technological complexity of naval equipment and of naval warfare in general, and by major force structure developments being planned partly in response to that complexity. A plan to introduce the Australian-made Ikara anti-submarine warfare missile was one such development. Acquisition from the United States of modern A-4 Skyhawk jet aircraft to operate from the aircraft carrier HMAS Melbourne, a plan to acquire new submarines and the decision to purchase guided missile destroyers (DDGs) from the United States were others.7 Maintaining a range of new equipment and crewing more complex platforms, particularly the modern DDGs, with better educated and trained sailors able to cope with the new technology added an extra layer of difficulty to the Navy’s already pressing staffing problems.
    While the Navy had ceased taking in boys as general entry sailors through the Tingira scheme in 1926 it had never completely stopped recruiting them for other purposes. From 1913, boys aged 13 had been recruited to undergo three years of training at the Royal Australian Naval College (RANC) in order to become naval officers. Also, in 1956 it began accepting boys as young as 15 to undergo three years of apprentice training at HMAS Nirimba to become the Navy’s technical tradesmen. In an additional, albeit small, step in September 1950, the Naval Board approved in principle the entry of ‘Band Boys’ aged between 15 and 17 years of age.8 Also referred to as ‘boy musicians’, these boys were retitled ‘junior musicians’ in 1953.9
    In a much more significant step, in April 1959 the Naval Board decided to consider the re-introduction of the recruitment of boys as general entry sailors while retaining the adult recruit entry at the Cerberus Recruit School.10 In June of the same year the Board approved the proposal to reintroduce boy training and directed that a progress report be prepared after a year’s operation.11 Reversing their earlier decision, Board members also decided to refer to the boys as ‘junior recruits’ rather than ‘boys’ or ‘junior ratings’ as the latter term was already in use as a collective term to describe all sailors of leading seaman rank and below. In deciding to reintroduce RAN boy sailor entry the Naval Board also directed that sailors entered by that means be trained not in Cerberus but on the other side of Australia at HMAS Leeuwin, a shore base in Fremantle, Western Australia.
    The Naval Board’s decision to introduce the junior recruit entry and its associated training scheme had been informed by a plan developed quite quickly between April and June 1959.12 While the plan was submitted to the Board by the Second Naval Member, an admiral responsible for personnel matters, it was prepared by a Working Group comprised of four senior Navy headquarters staff officers: the Director of Naval Education Services, the Director of Naval Personnel Services (DNPS), the Director of Naval Works and the Director of Civilian Personnel. The DNPS was, as was relatively common in the RAN at the time, a Royal Navy officer on exchange service. It is relevant that he would most likely have had an understanding of the operations of

    HMS Ganges, the British boy sailor training establishment of which Leeuwin would become the Australian equivalent. Their remit was substantial: to devise in detail a plan to implement the scheme, identify needs and costs of infrastructure and staff, and ascertain the willingness of Western Australian government authorities to participate in educating the boys to Western Australian Junior Certificate level. The 63-page Working Group report delivered to the Board was a succinct document containing in addition to a short argument leading to recommendations, the draft of a manual titled Junior Recruit Training Instructions, along with appendixes covering ‘Works, Complement of the Training Establishment, Transport, Boats, method of Selection, Training and Entry Schedule for 1960/1961, Movement of Personnel and Effect on Reserve Training’. Ten months later the draft manual was published as the RAN’s Australian Book of Reference (ABR) 697. Titled The Manual of Instructions for the Junior Recruit Training Establishment it was the bible for junior recruit training for the next 24 years.
    The Working Group again visited Western Australia soon after the April 1959 Naval Board decision, this time armed with three specific items of planning guidance. The first was that there should be two entries per year of 150 boys each. Secondly, on entry the boys would be aged between 15 and 17. Finally, the boys would remain in Leeuwin for 18 months, undertake basic training for a year before being allocated to one of four branches – Seamen, Communications, Engineering or Electrical – to then complete six months of technical training specific to each of those branches.
    Cost factors and the undesirability of duplicating existing navy training schools were the principal reasons why the Working Group did not ultimately favour proceeding with the 18 month plan specified in the Board’s guidance to them. Its members had calculated that accommodating 450 boys in Leeuwin for each 18 month period would involve ‘works’ - infrastructure - expenditure of £395,000 spread over three years while 300 boys could be accommodated for 12 months with expenditure of £83,000 spread over two years. Moreover, providing unique-to-branch technical training in Leeuwin would require duplication of a number of schools that already existed at Cerberus in Victoria and at HMAS Watson in Sydney. The financial cost and the increased demand for additional experienced and qualified training staff would have been counter productive and wasteful in a navy suffering acute staffing difficulties and perennial financial problems.
    Allocation of junior recruits to the proposed four branches under the 18 month option, rather than allocation to all of the Navy’s branches including Supply, Medical and Aviation, was also not favoured by the Working Group. In its judgement:
    The product of Leeuwin will be of higher educational standard than the present minimum requirements in some Branches … it is wise to have in every Branch a leavening of really good men who will provide the higher rates and it might become desirable from time to time to divert some of the Leeuwin trained ratings into all branches.13

    Clearly, from the outset, the Working Group’s members had high expectations of the standard to be achieved by boys educated and trained at Leeuwin and of the contribution they could subsequently make to the RAN overall. By the time of the first graduation parade on 16 June 1961, the aim of the junior recruit training establishment was stated in the Leeuwin graduation parade booklet as being to:
    Train young men so that –
    They regard the Navy as their vocation.
    They will develop a high standard of discipline, trustworthiness, initiative, courage and endurance.
    Their educational standard will be such that they can assimilate their subsequent professional training.
    In due course they will be an important source of supply of Petty Officers, Chief Petty Officers and Special Duties List Officers.
    For the RAN’s sailor population the Leeuwin boy entry scheme was to be a solution to both its recruiting difficulties and the problems associated with growing technological complexity in naval warfare and equipment. This idea was reinforced in the overall aim of the junior recruit entry scheme articulated by the Working Group in their report, with a specific goal being to:
    Produce a necessary leavening of better educated ratings from whom the Navy should be able to remedy the lack of SD [Special Duties] … List officers and ensure the supply of good Chief Petty Officers and Petty Officers as well as the supply of the more highly trained technical ratings.14
    Their intent was to use the Navy-controlled education curriculum at Leeuwin to raise the educational standard of a large proportion of the entire sailor workforce. Each year approximately 300 boys educated to a new, higher, standard would become sailors to replace or supplement the adult recruits joining the Navy through the Cerberus Recruit School whose minimum required entry standard was a high school grade eight education.
    The decision to reintroduce a boy sailor entry to the RAN was not simply recourse to a tried and true training method. As the Working Group expressed it:
    The method by which it proposed to achieve the aim is to attract into the Navy those brighter boys who because they are perhaps cleverer than those we normally recruit are absorbed and retained in civil employment in the period between leaving school (say 15 years) and the age they are acceptable into the Navy under the present system (17 years) - the entry age for adult recruits at the Recruit School at HMAS Cerebus.

    Although not stated, it seems probable that the group believed the idea of joining the Navy and seeing the world would be highly attractive to bored, adventure-seeking Australian schoolboys, while the prospect of their sons being given a year of free education in a disciplined and safe environment would be equally appealing to their parents. Combined with the aim of raising sailors’ educational standards, it was an ambitious strategy that held the potential to kill two birds with one stone; overcoming recruiting deficiencies and addressing the RAN’s future technological challenge by obtaining a major improvement in sailor education standards.
    Only two recommendations were made by the Working Group in its report to the Naval Board. The first recommendation stated:
    That we proceed on the assumption that the number of Junior Recruits will be 300, that they will remain in the establishment for 12 months, and will be given educational and basic training only. Their age of entry will be 15 to 16. The title of the trainees at Leeuwin is to be Junior recruits to avoid misunderstanding with the title Junior ratings which is a generic term used to describe all ratings of the rank of leading hand and below.15
    The second recommendation being ‘that the first intake of 150 Junior Recruits commence training at HMAS Leeuwin on Monday 11 July 1960’.16
    The Working Group’s task to discuss with Western Australian government authorities the education standards for junior recruits was significant, part of a changing RAN attitude and approach to the education of its officers and sailors. While the RAN required many but not all of its engineer officers to have a tertiary education, it was not the same for its seaman and supply specialisations officers. It was not until late in the 1960s that tertiary education in the arts and sciences in addition to engineering was made available to some young officers. Tertiary education was not available for sailors most of whom were recruited with an education standard equivalent to a grade eight pass in a small amount of subjects. Once in the RAN, advancement, be it to officer or to senior sailor ranks, was determined by a sailor obtaining passes in subjects at the Higher Educational Test (HET) level. The HET was a Royal Navy examination used by the RAN until the early 1970s. Remarkably, but perhaps in line with the 1911 policy requiring personnel interchange between the two navies, the RAN was in 1962, and probably for some time thereafter, sending Australian sailors’ completed HET papers by airmail to the United Kingdom for external marking.
    In October 1965 the Services General Certificate of Education (SGCE) was agreed to by the Naval Board – and its Army and the Royal Australian Air Force equivalents - as a common academic examination at the Victorian leaving certificate standard.17 As the then Second Naval Member said:

    The need for such an examination, recognised by the Victorian Universities and Schools Examination Board became apparent when the RAN HET and the comparable Army and Air examinations lost their former status and were no longer recognised as acceptable to employers, the public service, universities etc. because of the higher educational qualifications now demanded. The introduction of the SGCE will assist in restoring parity between service educational standards and those of the various educational institutions outside the service. Moreover, with the increased educational standards now achieved in schools, the educational level of recruits is increasing and it is considered that potential officers should be capable of achieving Leaving Certificate standards.18
    The SGCE replaced the HET in 1968 and had nine subjects: English Expression and Literature, Economics, Modern History, Mathematics I, Mathematics II, Physics, Chemistry, Geography, and Navigation.

    The first Supplementary List Topman Course at Leeuwin, 1969 (RAN)

    Appendix 3 to the Working Group report describes two syllabuses for the junior recruits. Syllabus A was the ‘Normal Course’ ‘designed for entrants with educational qualifications of sub-intermediate standard and below’. The Syllabus B ‘Advanced Course’ was ‘designed for entrants whom possess Intermediate Certificate on entry’. The Advanced Course consisted of English and Physics, Elementary Navigation, Arithmetic and Algebra, Geometry and Trigonometry, and Mechanics. While both courses were neither formally accredited nor aligned with any Australian civilian high school standard a good pass in a subject undertaken as part of the courses could be given HET status and qualify a junior recruit for apprentice or officer training. Those in the Advanced Course could achieve passes that were considered to be the equivalent of SGCE passes and therefore acceptable qualifications to justify a boy’s transfer to officer training.
    A further dimension to education at Leeuwin was the emphasis placed from the outset on the utility of the boy sailor entry as a source of officers and apprentices. The fairly narrow Working Group aim was to produce more sailors suitable for advancement to officer rank on the Special Duties List but this was soon broadened in scope. In October 1962, only two years after the junior recruit entry was reintroduced, the Naval Board approved in principle a plan to train a number of junior recruits and apprentices at Leeuwin for an additional year with the object of preparing them as Upper Yardmen candidates.19 Upper Yardman describe a trained and experienced sailor of up to Leading Seaman rank undergoing further education for consideration for officer training.
    In 1963, by way of Commonwealth Navy Orders 122 and 489, the Naval Board authorised the introduction of the Topman Scheme.20 The term ‘topman’ dated back to the days of sail in the Royal Navy where the better performing ratings were allocated to work aloft in the yards at the top of the masts. Under this scheme junior recruits could be selected before graduating from Leeuwin for further education in order to prepare them as officer candidates. Unlike their Upper Yardmen colleagues they did not need to experience life at sea as a sailor before being transferred from sailor to officer. In what the Naval Officer in Charge Western Australia (NOICWA) described as a ‘bold experiment’ the first Topman course began on 9 January 1963.21 By 1967 at Leeuwin, Upper Yardmen and Topmen would undertake a course of study designed to bring them up to a standard equivalent to Western Australian Leaving Certificate in English, Geography, Mathematics A and B, Physics and Chemistry. For those weak in chemistry there was an option to study history.
    Also in 1963, the Naval Board approved in principle the introduction ‘as soon as practicable’ of a Supplementary List of Seaman Officers.22 As the name implies, the list was intended to supplement the numbers of boys graduating as General List seaman officers from the RANC. Young men could join as Supplementary List officers direct from civilian life to undergo a much shorter period of training than their college counterparts to prepare them for a short service commission during which it was envisaged that


    The badge of HMAS Cerberus, circa 1964 (RAN)

    they would be employed only in the seaman branch. In support of this scheme a special course was introduced into Leeuwin in 1969 to prepare ex-junior recruits and other sailors to become Supplementary List officers. That same year a scheme was also introduced to prepare Upper Yardmen of petty officer and chief petty officer rank to become Special Duties List officers. In less than three years a boy sailor entry intended primarily to address an acute sailor recruitment shortage had expanded in scope to provide a pool of well-educated young men for consideration as officer candidates.
    Initial recruiting for the junior recruit entry was very successful, so successful that in addition to the intakes entered through Leeuwin two intakes of junior recruits were trained at Cerberus, in an environment separate from the adult recruit training conducted there. The first intake of 125 boys arrived in Cerberus on 17 March 1963 and graduated, or ‘passed out’ as the RAN called it, on 26 March 1964. The second entry of 200 boys joined Cerberus on 5 April 1964 and passed out on 2 April 1965. Cerberus then ceased training junior recruits. All other junior recruits received their training in Leeuwin.

    endnotes



    1      For more on navy recruiting in the 20th century see D Stevens (ed), The Royal Australian Navy, Oxford University Press, Melbourne, Australia, 2001.
    2      Stevens, The Royal Australian Navy, p. 194.
    3      Stevens, The Royal Australian Navy, pp. 170-172.
    4      Naval Board Minute (NBM) 12/1956 dated 3 Apr 1956.
    5      NBM 1/1956 dated 9 January 1956.
    6 NBM 20/1957 dated 29 May, NBM 51/1957 dated 22 Oct 1957 and NBM 45/1957 dated 2 Oct 1957.
    7 For a detailed discussion on these matters see T Frame, J Goldrick & P Jones, Reflections on the Royal Australian Navy, Kangaroo Press. Sydney, NSW, 1991, and P Jones & J Goldrick, Struggling for a Solution: The RAN and the Acquisition of a Surface to Air Missile Capability, Sea Power Centre - Australia, Canberra, January 2000.
    8      NBM 93/50 dated 20 Sep 1950.
    9      NBM 89/53 dated 15 Dec 1953.
    10  NBM 22/1959 dated 10 Apr 1959.
    11  NBM 39/1959 dated 12 Jun 1959.

    12 The plan was formally titled The Heads of a Plan for the Reintroduction of Junior Recruits into the Royal Australian Navy.
    13  The Heads of a Plan for the Reintroduction of Junior Recruits into the Royal Australian Navy, p. 2.
    14 Following Royal Navy practice, at that time RAN officers were broadly categorised in ‘Lists’ depending on their avenue of entry and the nature of their employment. For example, those who entered through the Royal Australian Naval College were placed on the General List while those who joined as sailors and were later promoted to undertake a narrow range of duties related to their former employment as sailors were on the Special Duties List. Another list covered short service commission officers.
    15  The Heads of a Plan for the Reintroduction of Junior Recruits into the Royal Australian Navy, p. 2.
    16  The Heads of a Plan for the Reintroduction of Junior Recruits into the Royal Australian Navy, p. 2.
    17   NBM 70/1965 dated Oct 1965.
    18  Second Naval Member note for Naval Board members dated 28 Sep 1965.
    19  NBM Minute 55/1962 dated Oct 1962.
    20     Commonwealth Navy Orders 122 and 489 1963, Navy Office, Canberra.
    21  Report of Proceedings for the West Australia Area dated 14 Jan 1964, p. 6.
    22` NBM 23/1962 dated 31 May 1963.

                                             3. HMAS Leeuwin


    Other than to say that the Naval Board ‘discussed’ the matter, the written record is silent as to why the Junior Recruit Training Establishment (JRTE) should be located in Leeuwin. However, there are a range of factors that the Board may have taken into account. Simply following Royal Navy practice in separating boys from adult recruits is one. A desire to increase the size of the naval presence in Western Australia is another, highly plausible, factor given that the RAN was very popular in the local community which, as the Working Group noted, had limited employment opportunities. Despite being in varying and in some cases poor condition, Leeuwin also had many buildings suitable for use as accommodation, training and administration facilities which made it very attractive to a cost conscious Board. Leeuwin also had space available for expansion if needed.
    Historically, the permanent RAN presence in Western Australia had been relatively small and Leeuwin did not become its focus until August 1940. In 1911 a District Naval Officer was appointed to Fremantle having amongst his multiple tasks the job of supervising Naval Reserve training courses from premises in Croke Lane. The same year, an old Post Office in Cliff Street, Fremantle, was taken over by the RAN and used as the Naval Staff Office and training facility until 1936. In 1913 a building known as King’s Warehouse was leased by the RAN and used as a drill hall for 13 years until the District Naval Officer and his staff moved to a new hall constructed on a block in Fremantle bounded by Mouat Street, Croke Lane and Cliff Street. This facility was known as Cerberus (V), a name which signified that it was a tender or sub-element of Cerberus located far away in southern Victoria. On 1 August 1940 the Mouat Street site was commissioned, as is the custom for large or permanent navy bases, and named HMAS Leeuwin.
    Other names had been proposed for the base. Some favoured continuation of the generic naming custom that had led to there being five instances of the name Cerberus – the original plus four to whose formal titles were appended the appropriate roman numerals. Roebuck, Geelvinck and Houtman, Abrolhos were other names put forward. Respectively, these referred to the ship in which the English explorer William Dampier travelled to Australia, the channel between the coastline and the reef on which the Dutch ship Batavia grounded in June 1629 and the chain of islands off the Western Australian coast. Leeuwin is the Dutch word for lioness, and is also the name of a Dutch vessel that made landfall in Western Australia in March 1622. The term ‘Leeuwin Land’ was applied by some to the entire south western region of the state but the explorer Captain Matthew Flinders gave the name, more precisely, to a large cape which he described as the southern and most projecting part of Leeuwin’s Land. Leeuwin therefore actually refers to the cape which, in the view of the then Secretary for the Navy, brought Western Australia to the mind of all seafarers. The official badge of Leeuwin is based on the Dutch royal coat of arms the motto of which translates into English as ‘I Shall Maintain’. The badge shows a crowned and rampant lion clutching a sword and shield.


    The badge of HMAS Leeuwin (RAN)


    A 1960s view of the gymnasium at Leeuwin (RAN)
    Between 1941 and 1942 another naval depot was constructed at Preston Point several kilometres further up the Swan River from Port Fremantle where torpedo maintenance services were provided for Allied submarines. On 1 July 1942 the navy presence in Western Australian was concentrated at the Preston Point site to which the name Leeuwin was then transferred. Until junior recruit training began there in July 1960 it was used principally for Navy Reserve training purposes.
    Leeuwin’s Reserve training function had equipped it reasonably well for a new role as the JRTE. While some of the facilities, particularly the ‘sleeping huts’, were old and in need of repair, junior recruit training could begin with minimal new construction. In terms of repair the two largest tasks would be to prepare the dining hall at an estimated cost of £20,000 and rehabilitate and furnish nine sleeping huts for £22,000. Recreation amenities for 300 boys were poor, not simply in comparison with modern navy training establishment and civilian school standards, but in an absolute sense. There was only one sports oval, no swimming pool and no facilities such as tennis courts, squash courts or cricket pitches. The canteen was an old, small wooden hut and the dining hall contained little more space than that required to sit the boys in shifts during meals. It would be almost a decade before a modern dining hall and better quality sports and other recreation facilities were provided for the boys and the staff. While there was a large gymnasium available to junior recruits it would be fair to say that the presence there of Physical Training Instructor (PTI) sailors who ruled it with an iron fist, particularly during scheduled physical training periods, meant that for most boys it was a place to be avoided, not a place in which to linger for recreational purposes.


    The boatshed and jetty at Leeuwin in 1973 (RAN)

    Leeuwin’s boatshed and slipway with SBD 1325 in 1960 (RAN)

    Given its WWII role as a torpedo maintenance base Leeuwin was well equipped in terms of wharves, slipways, boats and the means to berth and repair them. A seaward defence boat (SDB 1325) was already based there, along with two powered workboats, a 25 foot motor cutter and a 17 foot motor dinghy. To these would be added a 32 foot motor cutter, another 25 foot motor cutter and two more workboats. The existing five whalers, which could be sailed or rowed – ‘pulled’ in naval parlance - and four sailing dinghies would be added two whalers and two dinghies.
    Command of Leeuwin was vested in an officer of commodore rank who was also appointed as NOICWA. The Commodore was also the senior naval officer resident in the state and the representative of the Naval Board to which he was directly responsible. An officer of Commander rank was the Executive Officer (XO) of Leeuwin. The XO was second in command and responsible to the Commodore for most of the day-to-day detail of training the boys and leading the ship’s company. In September 1978, an officer of captain rank was appointed as the CO of Leeuwin. This left the Commodore free to focus on state-wide naval matters that had broadened in scope and complexity with the establishment of HMAS Stirling.

    Leeuiwn’s parade ground and sports fields under construction.
    In the background are the original accomodations blocks or ‘dongas’ (RAN)


    HMAS Leeuwin in the mid-1960s (RAN)

    HMAS Leeuwin in 1980 (RAN)


    the Boys


    The Working Group carefully considered how best to select the boys to be enlisted as junior recruits. Three methods were examined: a selection committee similar to that used to select boys to train as apprentices at Nirimba; a system in which each state recruiting office would be allocated a quota to fill; and the establishment of a Personnel Standards Committee (PSC) tasked to select boys on the basis of their written records including education certificates and notes of their interviews with recruiting officers and psychologists.
    The PSC method was chosen on the grounds that it would be less expensive and time consuming, compared to the selection committee method, and that it would facilitate selection on merit irrespective of a boy’s state of origin. More importantly the Working Group considered that the PSC method would place selection in the hands of a small group of people who were well-informed on overall RAN sailor wastage rates (the term used to describe the rate at which people depart military service) and the standards being applied to adult applicants entering through Cerberus. Rejection of the quota system approach was based on an unsatisfactory experience with it in recruitment for the Women’s Royal Australian Naval Service (WRANS) and a perception that it would produce disproportionately more junior recruits from Western Australia.
    It is interesting to note the extent to which Working Group members argued in favour of the PSC method, essentially favouring a system more like that used to select officer candidates than that used to select adult entry sailors. Given the emphasis they placed on education and on junior recruits as a potential source of officers, apprentices and the more technologically-aware senior sailors of the future, this was intentional. In summarising its rationale the Working Group asserted the view that a PSC ‘should ensure that justice is done to each candidate and that the Navy selects the best of its candidates’.1
    Working Group concerns over the distribution of recruits by state seem to be confirmed in the numbers recruited for the first intake whose members arrived at Leeuwin in July 1960. The intake’s 150 boys was made of 46 recruits from Western Australia, 21 from South Australia, 20 from Victoria, 5 from Tasmania, 27 from New South Wales, 30 from Queensland and 1 from Papua New Guinea. The practice of taking recruits from all states and territories for each intake continued throughout the life of the junior recruit entry scheme but it is difficult to identify those recruited from the Australian Capital Territory and the Northern Territory because they were often recorded with New South Wales and South Australian entrants respectively.

    In practice the PSC method was simple. Recruiting activity occurred all year round. After medical and psychological examination of all candidates the Recruiting Officer and Naval Psychologist in each state conferred and allocated each boy to one of the following seven categories as defined by the Working Group:

    • Suitable in all respects – of high intelligence and shows scholastic promise.
    • Suitable in all respects – should be capable of handling any of the technical training courses.
    • Considered suitable but could have difficulty in coping with training in some of the more academically demanding rates, e.g. the Electrical branch.
    • Borderline. Has a weakness or weaknesses which make him a risk for selection, e.g. A candidate with good abilities, but a long history of under performance in his school grades.
    • To be deferred for a specified period. Suitable in most respects but has a handicap which precludes selection at the moment. Includes:
    • A language handicap which may yield to further practice in English.
    • An educational deficiency which could be overcome by private study if the candidate is prepared to make the effort.
    • A very superficial interest in the service. Considered too naïve and uniformed, at present, to make a sound vocational choice. Highly likely to request withdrawal.
    • An applicant who is likely to be required at home, e.g. only son, whose elderly father owns a small farm employing no other labour, who has failed to discuss this problem with his parents.
    • Obviously unsuitable. This applicant:
    • has such severe educational handicaps or is of such low endowment as to be considered incapable of rendering satisfactory service in any capacity whether as a junior recruit or an … [adult] … entry.
    • Is considered unlikely to make a satisfactory adjustment to community life in a service environment. Includes those with a history of conflict with superiors, incorrigible truants and those with delinquent tendencies.


  • tHe BoyS
    Candidates allocated to Categories A, B, C and D were to be advised that they had passed the recruiting tests, that their names would be forwarded to the Naval Board and that they would be advised later whether they had been accepted. Candidates allocated to Category E were invited to return for review by recruiting officers after a stipulated period had elapsed. Those allocated to Category F were to be rejected ‘on the spot’ by the Recruiting Staff Officer. Candidates whose names were forwarded for consideration but were not offered a place were to be:
    Advised that they have failed to meet the high standard required for the final list … [and] … be encouraged to apply for a later … [junior recruit]
    … entry or, if too old, for … [adult entry] … at seventeen years of age.2
    The selection taxonomy is interesting for a number of reasons. For an armed service with an acute staffing problem the RAN was being very selective. It had not resorted to taking in any and all applicants as junior recruits. Also, the requirement to place in Category F boys with ‘a history of conflict with superiors, incorrigible truants and those with delinquent tendencies’, was a clear indication that - like Tingira half a century before - Leeuwin was not to be a reform school for wayward boys.3 Boys who had been in prisons or reformatories were still not to be received and while it is impossible to discount the possibility that over the years the recruiting rules may sometimes have been ‘bent’, stories that later circulated about Leeuwin boys being offered the ‘Navy or prison’ seem to be untrue.
    Apart from having a clean behavioural record, the principal determinants of a boy’s suitability were his scholastic record and assessed potential. This reinforced the concept that while junior recruits were general entry sailors, neither cadets nor apprentices, the new training scheme was to be focused on improving the overall education level of the RAN’s sailor population and on enlarging the pool from which officers and technologically-competent senior sailors could be drawn.
    Medical and physical fitness standards for junior recruits were neither extensive nor particularly onerous. While in its recruiting brochure of September 1912 the RAN had stipulated a height standard between 4 foot 10 inches and 5 foot 2 inches and a chest measurement of between 29 and 32 inches, it did not set any definite standard in 1959. Instead, it stated that:
    The real test of fitness is the probability of the candidate becoming a well-developed man, capable of carrying out the duties of a Naval rating in all climates and under the vicissitudes of the Services.4
    Leeuwin candidates had to meet a specific hearing standard (the ability to hear a whispered voice 20 feet distant) and sight standards related to their later employment environment. They could be rejected if they suffered from any of 17 conditions ranging from a ‘weak constitution’ through possession of a ‘malformed head’ to ‘flat feet’ but the RAN clearly felt that a generally healthy boy would become a suitable man under

    the influence of naval training. The boys did not undergo a physical fitness test before entry but were examined by doctors in the recruiting centres. After arrival at Leeuwin they would, if necessary, receive extensive remedial dental and medical treatment and all would participate in a great deal of physical activity. Boys who were found to have an undisclosed or undetected condition or disability after joining Leeuwin were immediately subject to medical survey and discharge where necessary.
    The RAN followed Royal Navy practice where in the early 20th century the basic period of enlistment as a sailor was 12 years – whence, incidentally, came the popular British sailor’s expression ‘roll on my twelve’. While the enlistment period for those entering the Royal Navy as adult recruits began counting on the date of their enlistment the 12-year period for boys began not on the day they entered but when they turned 18.5 In Australia, junior recruits were to undertake an initial period of engagement of 12 years, beginning on the day they were signed up in a State Recruiting Office. Depending on their later standards of performance and conduct as well as the Navy’s continuing need for sailors in their employment category they could re-engage for consecutive periods until they reached their compulsory retiring age of 55. While it was remarkable for 15 or 16-year-olds to sign up to serve for 12 years, early life-long career commitments were still commonplace in Australia in the 1960s.
    Broadly considered, the junior recruit selection process was well aligned with the overall aim of producing better educated sailors to meet increasing demand from the technical branches and to increase the supply of officer candidates. The focus was on a boy’s educational achievement and potential and seemed to recognise that at the age of 15 or 16 a great deal of physical and mental development was yet to occur, and would occur during their year at Leeuwin.

    notes



    1      The Heads of a Plan for the Reintroduction of Junior Recruits into the Royal Australian Navy, p. 19.
    2      The Heads of a Plan for the Reintroduction of Junior Recruits into the Royal Australian Navy, p. 19.
    3      The Heads of a Plan for the Reintroduction of Junior Recruits into the Royal Australian Navy, p. 18.
    4      The Heads of a Plan for the Reintroduction of Junior Recruits into the Royal Australian Navy, p. 26.
    5      C Mckee, Sober Men and True: Sailor Lives in the Royal Navy 1900 – 1945, Harvard University Press, Cambridge, Massachusetts, 2002, p. 2.


    junior recruit education and training


    Available records do not reveal exactly what the RAN planned to do to achieve all elements of its four-part aim of training young men so that they would regard the Navy as their vocation; develop a high standard of discipline, trustworthiness, initiative, courage and endurance; reach an educational standard that would enable them to assimilate their subsequent professional training; and, eventually, be an important source of supply of petty officers, chief petty officers and Special Duties List officers. However, it is clear that achievement of the educational part received the most detailed and formal consideration over the life of the junior recruit training scheme.
    Development of a high standard of discipline and the inculcation of the desired values seem likely to have been regarded simply as natural outcomes of a process in which the boys were exposed to the RAN, its lifestyle and its people, and were involved in the range of activities incorporated in the training plan. The latter included a strong emphasis on physical fitness training and sporting activities including, for example, boxing, compulsory for ‘senior’ junior recruits until mid-1966 when it was made voluntary. Junior recruits were also subject to almost daily parades and weapons drills, character guidance - largely by chaplains of various religious denominations - ‘expeditions’ or camps, and knowledge of and obedience to the Naval Discipline Act (later, the Defence Force Discipline Act). In so far as having junior recruits regard the Navy as a vocation it seems likely that the RAN subscribed to a variant of the Jesuit motto of ‘give me a child until he is seven and I will give you the man’, believing that recruitment as boys followed by a year of naval indoctrination would produce men committed to a long-term naval career.
    The junior recruit education and training process had two main components: schoolwork and naval training both theoretical and practical in nature. Schoolwork was to develop the boys’ ability to better comprehend technology and cope with the demands of their employment category training post-Leeuwin. Naval training was to prepare them for life and work in the RAN, particularly in warships. For junior recruits naval training was to be at least the equivalent of that provided to Cerberus adult recruits but, while adult recruits had only 10 to 12 weeks to complete the syllabus, junior recruits had almost a year in which to do so.
    Table 1 outlines the syllabus subjects taught over 30 hours per week in 1960:

    Naval Subjects

    16 Hours

    Schoolwork

    14 Hours

    Seamanship - Theoretical

    1

    English

    2

    Seamanship - Practical

    4

    Arithmetic and Algebra

    2

    Signals - Practical

    1

    Geometry and Trigonometry

    2

    Small Arms Practical

    1

    Physics

    4

    Parade Training

    4

    History

    2

    Physical Training and Swimming

    4

    Elementary navigation

    2

    Miscellaneous lectures

    1


    Table 1: Syllabus at Leeuwin in 1960

    ‘Miscellaneous lectures’ saw junior recruits exposed to a wide range of information, some of which was vital to their later welfare and efficiency while working and living at sea. Matters covered in these lectures included: atomic, biological and chemical defence and damage control (‘atomic’ later became ‘nuclear’); survival at sea; first aid and health; pay and allowances; character guidance and religion; and naval indoctrination including branch and employment category familiarisation.
    In practice the boys did not actually undergo a common course. In addition to the Normal and Advanced courses discussed earlier there were differences that arose from the process referred to as ‘classing up’. This was the process in which boys were allocated to classes A to F based upon Leeuwin’s staff Senior Psychologist’s review conducted during the recruiting process. For the boys, the essential short term difference arising from classing up was that those in an A class spent more periods each week on schoolwork while those in an F class spent more time on naval subjects and miscellaneous activity. In the longer term, classing up could actually be influential in determining the employment category to which boys were allocated and whether they could be considered for transfer to apprentice or officer training. Five weeks after joining Leeuwin all boys sat Educational Test Number 1 (ET1), a test of competence in English, Arithmetic and General Comprehension. Many boys were reclassed as a result of their ET1 results although the actual numbers doing so declined significantly over the years.
    Examination of the different versions of ABR 697 indicates that until the late 1970s all boys spent more time on schoolwork regardless of the class to which they were allocated. In 1960 all boys undertook 476 hours of schoolwork per year. By 1962 it varied from 385 to 702 hours depending on class allocation while in 1967 it varied from 578 to 1088 hours.


    The final Leeuwin report of Junior Recruit John Perryman, a member of the 70th intake (John Perryman)


    Leeuwin’s academic block (RAN)
    While attractive to Australian boys and their parents, evidenced in excellent recruiting numbers, there were significant disadvantages in the year of initial training received by the boys as opposed to the 12 weeks given to general entry sailor recruits. Firstly, no immediate impact was made on the acute staffing crisis which had prompted the reintroduction of the boy sailor entry. While excellent recruiting performance saw all early junior recruit intakes fully subscribed, junior recruits could not contribute to alleviating the shortage of trained sailors until after they had completed a year at Leeuwin, undergone common sea training and completed employment training courses of up to a year in length for the more technically oriented courses. Throughout this period they were regarded as ‘ineffectives’, a burden on the RAN budget and, due to the demand they created for additional trained and experienced staff members at Leeuwin, an exacerbation of the RAN’s staffing crisis.
    Concern, and exasperation amongst navy work force planners and the Fleet Commander’s staff who dealt with the impact of staff shortages daily, led to a debate akin to the argument between business and academe over the relative merits of ‘enabling’ and ‘vocationally oriented’ bachelor level university education. For many, such as planners and Fleet staff, the aim should have been to give the boys as short a Leeuwin course as possible, with a strong principal focus on preparing them for future category training, followed by category training and a sea posting. However, recruiters and Leeuwin’s staff believed this rationale of thinking to be short-sighted and misplaced for two main reasons. Firstly, parents’ attraction to a year’s free education in a controlled training environment and,

    secondly, the substantial and beneficial transfer rate of junior recruits to officer and apprentice training. Others, probably a fairly small number, supported education in its own right as a means of dealing with growing naval technological complexity and its general contribution to improving the skills of the sailor work force in the long term.
    Secondly, the argument over the timing of junior recruits being allocated to a particular employment category involved much more than a desire to reduce the burden of ineffectives or alleviate what would only be a temporary staffing crisis if a high level of boy recruitment continued. Quite simply, while boys and their parents were committing to a 12 year engagement with apparent ease, the early allocation of the boys to a particular employment category was much more problematic. There were dozens of potential category choices open to most boys and many preferred one over the others, not because they were well informed but because it sounded exciting or because a family member or a friend had been in that category and had influenced their choice. It is also likely that the more popular and effective Leeuwin staff members, consciously and subconsciously, influenced boys towards their own category.
    Getting the boys to a point where they could make an informed category choice was very difficult. Leeuwin’s location meant that boys could not be given comprehensive exposure to the duties and working environment of all categories within the RAN. Throughout the life of the scheme Leeuwin staff members endeavoured to ensure that junior recruits visited Australian and foreign warships that called in to Fremantle, but both the ships’ visits and the boys’ visits to them were short. For the boys these visits were superficial and held the risk of influencing them for or against a particular category on spurious grounds. Indeed, during a review of Leeuwin training in 1969 the Senior Instructor Officer asserted that:
    JRs [junior recruits] have returned … [from a period of sea training]
    … fiercely determined not to be categorised in any of the seaman categories – a direct result of their employment at sea.1
    While the RAN had always envisaged that all junior recruits would undertake a period of sea familiarisation training during their time at Leeuwin very few actually did so. A minority went to sea in the WWII River class frigate HMAS Diamantina based in Western Australia. However, Diamantina was engaged largely in hydrographic survey duties meaning she was absent from Fremantle for most of the year visiting remote areas making it unpractical to transport junior recruits. All efforts to provide meaningful sea training ceased in the early 1960s. Afterwards, junior recruits’ exposure to ships and life at sea was obtained through visits to ships in Port Fremantle and excursions in small power boats.
    Thirdly, it proved very difficult to maintain the motivation of junior recruits towards both their studies and a navy career. Despite the attractiveness of the junior recruit entry in recruiting terms the reality of life in Leeuwin did not match the expectations of some boys. Having joined the RAN for adventure, excitement and to ‘see the world’ they spent most

    of their days in classrooms, in a regimented lifestyle in which their instructors expected behaviour and attitudes closely aligned with Leeuwin’s Standing Orders and conformance to naval disciplinary standards very similar to those expected of adult sailors. Moreover, as Leeuwin did not have sufficient staff, naval or civilian, to perform all the establishment’s domestic duties, all junior recruits were expected to shoulder their share of the daily burden of cleaning, fetching and carrying, food preparation and general labouring. Among the junior recruits the burden of this ‘workship’ activity, as it was called, fell on the junior recruits in the Normal Stream who had a smaller time commitment to schoolwork subjects. For many boys Leeuwin became a tiresome place, something to endure while anticipating release into the world of sea service and frequent trips ‘Up Top’ to the carnal attractions of Southeast Asia. For some a year in Leeuwin was very demoralising, too long and not worth the wait. Their commitment to a long-term navy career waned and in many cases failed entirely.
    For a junior recruit disinterest in study was not risk free. Each boy’s progress was monitored, principally by means of periodic examinations, and unsatisfactory achievement would result in them being placed on either Captain’s or Naval Board warning depending on the degree of under-performance. Failure to improve would result in discharge from the RAN or, in rare cases usually involving illness or another matter beyond the boy’s control, back classing for not more than three months. Good progress on the other hand attracted accelerated promotion to the rank of Able Seaman some time after leaving Leeuwin and successful completion of category training. In the early 1960s up to three months advancement could be obtained by good performance in both schoolwork and naval subjects as a junior recruit. Later in the 1960s the total amount of advancement time was reduced to two months.

    A group of junior recruits touring the visiting British aircraft carrier HMS Eagle
    in 1968. For the boys such opportunities were a rare occurrence (RAN)

    The apparent unwillingness of some junior recruits to buckle down and study was assessed to extend beyond Leeuwin. In 1969 it was asserted by Cerberus staff members
    - and rejected by their Leeuwin counterparts – that the failure rate of ex-junior recruits undergoing category courses was twice that of ex-adult recruits. Cerberus category school staff attributed this rate to an unwillingness of junior recruits to study. Conversely, the willingness of many other junior recruits to study and the quality of their achievements saw the more academically successful boys directed toward officer and apprentice training instead of category schools where they were envisaged to constitute ‘a leavening of really good men who will provide the higher rates’. It would be wrong, however, to overstate the impact of this development as selection for officer training hinged on more than academic performance and apprentices who graduated from Nirimba did still become highly technically trained senior sailors.
    Finally, while it was not an issue that seems to have been considered formally before the boy sailor scheme was reintroduced, it is clear that the immaturity of junior recruits began to become an issue as larger numbers of them joined the Fleet. In the early 1960s it was common for junior recruits and adult recruits alike to go to sea for common sea training immediately on completion of recruit training. Therefore, hundreds of 16-year-old boys went to sea each year, many to experience active service in the Indonesian Confrontation and in the Vietnam War. In 1969, the Flag Officer Commanding the Australian Fleet in a report to the Naval Board assessed the performance of ex-junior recruits as good but added that deficiencies in their standards of appearance, a higher rate of minor disciplinary offences and perceptions of irresponsibility arose more from their immaturity than from training short comings.2
    Attempts to address these problems and the need to respond to improvements in the RAN’s staffing situation meant that the Leeuwin syllabus was the subject of frequent review. In June 1969, following a visit the previous year to Leeuwin by the Navy’s Training Committee, Navy Office instituted a comprehensive review ‘so that the length and type of training given to Junior Recruits could be reviewed at Navy Office’.3 It is unclear whether any of the nine recommendations arising from this review were ever implemented but, in any event, it was only three years before all ships were asked to report their views on the standards of ex-junior recruits entering the Fleet. The reports do not suggest that significant change occurred.
    In March 1976, an internal Leeuwin review was undertaken of the process whereby junior recruits had until that time undertaken a common course for the first five weeks at Leeuwin before sitting the ET1 (which had been replaced by the Reallocation Test (RAT)) and being assigned to a class in which they would stay for the remainder of their course. After the RAT each class would undertake a course involving a different mix of academic study, naval subject study and workship time. Leeuwin instructors felt that the process was an inadequate means of grading the study undertaken in the first five weeks, that there was little continuity between pre- and post-RAT study, was wasteful of study time available, did

    not recognise the very wide range of ability that existed in a junior recruit intake and was not well related to individual category preference. Action taken as a result of the review was not revolutionary but the RAT was abandoned and any reallocation between classes was decided on grounds that included the motivation of junior recruits. The latter factor was also to be assisted by a program of lecture sessions in which junior recruits were provided with initial knowledge of all the RAN’s branches and their possible category options.
    The RAN’s long-running staffing problems and continuing expressions of concern made internally and externally of Leeuwin regarding the relevance, meaning and effectiveness of its academic instruction led to a 1976 Navy Office review. The review concluded that ‘there may be some advantage in designing JR courses at Leeuwin with greater bias towards category training’.4 This occurred partly because Leeuwin was under seeming constant pressure to add more naval subject study to the syllabus. The range of subjects proposed for inclusion was broad. In 1966, for example, Navy Office stipulated that sailors’ overall knowledge of ships layout was to be improved by the introduction of more training, the inclusion of appropriate subject matter in ABR 27 - General Knowledge and Naval Lore Test - and the acquisition of better training aids. In 1970, the CO of HMAS Sydney (III) wrote that all sailors lacked knowledge of how to lash a hammock, basic principles of ship husbandry and the watch system used at sea. He asked that both Leeuwin and Cerberus amend their syllabuses in order to rectify the deficiencies. In 1972, both establishments were asked to include more content on the methods of cleaning ships, methods derived from a study undertaken by the Royal Navy into how to better clean their Leander class frigates. Sailing, land warfare and consumer education were among many other subjects proposed for inclusion.
    In July 1969 the Flag Officer Commanding the Australian Fleet stated his view that a disadvantage of reducing Leeuwin’s course length would be:
    Younger common sea trainees … [younger] … Able Seaman 2nd class through to Petty Officer … [and] … on the grounds of maturity, it is questionable whether any reduction of age in movement through the ranks, would be to the advantage of the RAN.5
    In November 1976 all these criticisms were repeated by Fleet representatives at a ‘Junior Recruit Training Forum’ held in Leeuwin. In addition, they referred to a perception that junior recruits’ category knowledge was lacking and they were not well prepared for the English and mathematics requirements of many categories. They added that the Leeuwin practice of having junior recruits address Able Seaman ranks and above as ‘sir’ was improperly being carried into the Fleet and that ‘over protection’ of junior recruits produced ‘disturbing results in terms of discipline and job performance’ when they responded poorly to the freedom and less restrictive environments in the Fleet and other shore bases.6

    After exhaustive investigation throughout the first half of the year a nine-month long category-oriented course was introduced for junior recruits in October 1977, with a review to be undertaken after a year. Improving the categorisation process and a reduction in ineffectives were the two principal reasons for introducing the new course. The first intake to undergo the new regime, the 61st, would not be spread over existing divisions on entry but would for the first three months form their own division, the New Entry Division, in which their training could be controlled as part of the transition from the old to the new. After undergoing a common course they would sit a series of tests in preparation for provisional categorisation and ‘streaming’ into one of five courses according to ability and application. The five courses were Alpha (Leeuwin Educational Test academic stream) Seaman 1, Seaman 2, Technical and Supply. The content of the later phases of the latter four streams was still being developed some months after the 61st intake had begun their Phase 1 common training. A further attempt was made to reduce training ineffectives in May 1978 when the Chief of Naval Personnel informed the RAN’s training establishments that in addition to continuing the category-orientation of junior recruit training, and to reduce the number of trained instructors posted to the establishment, the annual input to Leeuwin would be reduced to 240 commencing in the latter half of 1978.
    Category oriented training for junior recruits survived for just over a year as in October 1978 Leeuwin was directed to end the training by April of the following year. It was replaced with a course encompassing general entry navy training, a naval oriented academic course designed in part to compensate for the education they had missed by joining the RAN so early. It also included naval familiarisation, camping and sail training activities to motivate them towards their future naval employment. In so far as the academic component was concerned, it was to be common to all junior recruits but include streaming into advanced and general (normal) courses to cater for brighter students. New training directives for Leeuwin were promulgated by Navy Office in December 1978. The objectives relating to ‘vocation’, ‘standards’ and ‘education’ were reworded but the essence of the 1960 objectives remained. However, the objective of junior recruits being a source of supply of petty officers, chief petty officers and Special Duties List officers was abandoned. In its place was put an objective of ensuring that ‘they possess sufficient general Service Knowledge to allow ready assimilation into the wider RAN environment and effectively contribute to Navy aims and objectives’.7 While the need for education endured, it did so against a background of a significantly increased emphasis on practical training, navy indoctrination, physical training, character development, attitude and motivation. Activities should, according to the directive, be taught with a minimum of classroom lectures and maximum practical involvement but not be pursued to any great depth. All this reflected the view expressed in the directive that ‘a person who is strongly motivated towards job and environment will invariably perform well’.8

    endnotes



    1      HMAS Leeuwin Senior Instructor Officer Minute 48/5 dated 20 Aug 1969, HMAS Leeuwin
    file 72/12/1, National Archives Series K591/3.
    2      Flag Officer Commanding Australian Fleet signal message R110100Z Jul 1969, HMAS Leeuwin
    file 72/12/1, National Archives Series K591/3.
    3      Navy Office letter 311/4/261 dated 18 Jun 1969, HMAS Leeuwin file 72/12/1, National Archives Series K591/3.
    4      Navy Office letter dated 9 Apr 1976, HMAS Leeuwin file 72/12/1, National Archives Series K591/3.
    5      Navy Office letter 311/4/261 dated 18 Jun 1969, HMAS Leeuwin file 72/12/1, National Archives Series K591/3.
    6      Record of the Junior Recruit Training Forum Nov 1976, HMAS Leeuwin file 72/12/1, National Archives Series K591/3.
    7      Navy Office letter N519/2/8 dated 22 Dec 1978, HMAS Leeuwin Training Objectives, HMAS
    Leeuwin file 72/12/1, National Archives Series K591/3.
    8      Navy Office letter N519/2/8 dated 22 Dec 1978, HMAS Leeuwin Training Objectives, HMAS
    Leeuwin file 72/12/1, National Archives Series K591/3.


    Life as a junior recruit


    It is impractical to attempt to describe the Leeuwin lifestyle experienced by junior recruits over the entire term of the scheme as it changed over the years, in an evolutionary rather than revolutionary manner. A 1960 entrant who visited Leeuwin in 1984 would have found most aspects of the more modern junior recruit’s on-base lifestyle reasonably familiar. The most notable changes that occurred for junior recruits were improvements in living standards, accommodation, dining, recreation and sporting facilities. Changes in the boys’ education and training regimes were others, particularly the 1979 reduction in course length from a year to nine months. Also evident would have been the impact on the entire RAN of the change in community attitudes and standards that occurred in Australia in the 1960s and the 1970s: hair was worn longer, civilian clothing was worn ashore more often and some of the traditions, customs and habits inherited from the Royal Navy had either been discarded or were falling into disuse as they became less relevant to the Australian Navy. This section therefore endeavours to describe major features of the lifestyle.1
    As well as being a school, Leeuwin was a commissioned naval establishment staffed almost entirely by officers and sailors of the Permanent Naval Forces and organised and administered in much the same way as other Navy training establishments. The Naval Discipline Act and the subsequent Defence Force Discipline Act, applied almost equally to boys and staff members alike. Life at Leeuwin was regimented and regulated, where formal and informal rules governed almost every aspect of life. Those who broke the rules were liable to punishments that boys in civilian boarding schools would find very harsh indeed. Boys who expected Leeuwin to be an escape from the classroom and teachers were disappointed to find that it was not. One New South Wales Navy Careers Officer was sufficiently disturbed by this problem to inform new junior recruits’ parents that ‘no matter how it is stressed a percentage … [of boys] … still think that the … [Leeuwin] … schooling will be different to what they have been used to – it won’t’.2 Sounding a note of caution he added:
    There are times in civilian life when students will give teachers a hard time. New entrant Junior Recruits will do well to remember that their teachers at HMAS Leeuwin are Naval Officers.3
    On arrival in Leeuwin all new boys were ranked as Junior Recruit Second Class. After six months they became Junior Recruits First Class, an advancement that meant little except a small but very welcome increase in pay and pocket money. Unofficially, however, it meant much more to the boys as it helped reinforce an informal but strong culture that the boys maintained amongst themselves. In this culture, relative seniority between boys located at the very bottom of the RAN’s formal rank hierarchy was determined by intake date. The boys – but not the staff - referred to the newest intake members as ‘new grubs’, the next senior as ‘grubs’, the next as ‘shit’ with ‘top

    shit’ assuming the position of superiority as the senior intake. It was not simply a matter of vulgar sailor nomenclature. As each intake progressed towards graduation it assumed for itself a level of higher status over the members of newer intakes and the right to claim privileges. The most common and relatively harmless, though extremely irritating, privilege was to ‘jack’ or move to the head of the meal queue. Bullying of the members of the newer intakes by some members of the older intakes was the ‘dark side’ of the culture. While apparently fairly benign in the early days of the junior recruit training scheme, bullying seemed to have become commonplace by the late-1960s when there were four intakes of boys per year. Problems that arose from this culture are described in detail later in this section.
    Leeuwin’s training environment had two major functions. The first was simply to provide facilities to cater to the boys’ needs for accommodation, food, health care, recreation, education and training. The second was to accustom them to the environment in which they would have to live and work after graduating and being posted to sea. Leeuwin’s command structure was similar to that of a ship with a CO, an XO as second-in-command and Heads of Department responsible for supply and secretariat, education, training, health care and engineering. Daily Orders, a document promulgated each afternoon under the authority of the XO, set the pattern of daily activities and allocated staff and junior recruits to undertake a range of domestic functions. Junior recruits were required to know and use the traditional jargon used by sailors in ships: the main gate was the ‘gangway’, toilets were the ‘heads’, a floor was a ‘deck’ and walls were ‘bulkheads’. Meals were ‘SCRAN’ and individual dishes had names that would be remarkable if not offensive to the civilian ear. For example, tomato au gratin, a Navy cook’s breakfast favourite, was known as ‘train smash’ while savoury mince on toast was often referred to as ‘shit on a raft’. This adapting function was not unique to Leeuwin. It occurred in much the same way for cadet midshipmen at HMAS Creswell, for apprentices at Nirimba, and for adult recruits at Cerberus.
    In June 1963, the position of Leading Junior Recruit (LJR) was introduced, partly because an under-strength staff was having difficulty undertaking all the necessary management and leadership tasks expected of it. A perceived need to offer some practical leadership experience to the boys was another reason for its introduction. Selected on the basis of their conduct and performance during the first term, boys were appointed as LJRs at the beginning of the second term and discarded the ‘rank’ at graduation. Their principal duties were to assist staff to supervise cleaning of the accommodation blocks, minimise noise there after hours and lead formed squads of their division and class mates on the parade ground and while moving about the base during working hours. Boys appointed as LJRs wore distinguishing marks on their uniform which varied depending on the year they trained at Leeuwin. On their daily working uniform they wore a white armband embroidered with a blue anchor and in later years a coloured lanyard. On a sleeve of their best uniform from the late 1960s

    onwards they wore a small red anchor. They also received a small but welcome increase in weekly pocket money.
    Despite the badge and extra money, LJR was not a formal navy rank. This conformed to the views of the Working Group that had recommended in 1959 in favour of having LJRs rather than the adoption of a rank – for example ‘Petty Officer Junior Recruit’ - for boys placed in what was essentially a school prefect role. Underpinning the Working Group’s thinking was a desire to establish a system in which as many junior recruits as possible could be exposed to the fairly limited leadership training opportunities available in Leeuwin. Boys took turns at being a class leader for example. This approach differed from that used in Australian military officer training colleges where routine leadership opportunities were usually focused on a very small number of boys appointed as ‘cadet captains’.

    Before Leeuwin


    The recruitment process of assessing scholastic potential, assuring medical fitness and conducting a psychologist’s interview began the boys’ RAN engagement. It seems to have been a very straight forward and smooth process with very few ex-junior recruits having unpleasant or otherwise noteworthy memories of it. The assessment of physical and health fitness against the criteria described earlier, undertaken as part of the recruiting process was not onerous but former junior recruits do recount the usual tales of being invited by the doctor to bend over for a rear end inspection and of their surprise at being grasped by the testicles and invited to cough. Some clearly remember swearing an oath after being selected for entry while others are certain that were not required to do so.
    Travel to Leeuwin was an adventure for most boys who had little or no experience of either long distance travel or absence from home. For boys recruited from the south west of Western Australia it was fairly straight forward: assembly in Perth with other Western Australian recruits followed by an overnight stay in the YMCA before being bussed to Leeuwin the next day to join their colleagues from other states. For boys from the other states it entailed up to six days of second class train travel, without ‘sleepers’, before the Navy in 1967 stopped regarding air travel as an expensive luxury.

    induction


    A theme common to the recollections of many ex-junior recruit’s initial experience of Leeuwin was that of bellowing instructors, uncertainty, disorientation and homesickness. The late night arrival of entrants from the eastern states exacerbated many boys’ concerned feelings over what they had gotten themselves into. Soon after arrival each boy was issued with a handbook for use as a guide to conduct, behaviour and performance. Until 1963 boys received a copy of a Royal Navy manual, BR 1938 – The


    Naval Ratings Handbook published in 1954 - probably a rather perplexing experience for some boys who thought that they had joined the Australian rather than British navy. This book was replaced by an Australian publication, the Junior Recruit’s Handbook. This 8 x 10cm blue book began by referring to the RAN’s proud record in war and peace and giving a potted history of Leeuwin and its training organisation. It then listed the many things that could keep a boy out of or get him into trouble. Beginning with ‘absence from place of duty’ it mentioned the protocols of ‘addressing superiors’, described the dangers of alcoholic drink, prohibited the borrowing and lending of money amongst junior recruits, exhorted them to obey orders with a ‘prompt and cheerful Aye Aye, Sir’ and demanded that they not gamble, swear or spit. It concluded with the statement that ‘whistling is strictly forbidden in all ships and establishments in the Navy … DON’T WHISTLE’.4
    What to an outsider would appear a simple process of providing the boys with the required number of uniform items became a two-stage ritual and for many boys an unpleasant one usually conducted by distinctly unsympathetic senior sailors, principally of the Stores Victualling branch. Stage one occurred in the clothing store where boys were issued with a large number of often unfamiliar items of uniform and uniform maintenance items. Many of the items – naval blue jean collars for example – were simply unrecognisable to most boys. Commencing with the issue of a thick canvas sailor’s kit bag, each junior recruit had to receive, try for size and stow in the kitbag virtually all the items that would clothe him for the next year or more. Having done so, each boy locked his bag and staggered off under its weight back to make sense of it all.
    In the second stage, which seems to have varied in process over the years, each boy was placed at a desk or ‘station’ in Leeuwin’s drill hall. Each station was equipped with an alloy name stamping device prepared with his name and two pads of cloth, one impregnated with black paint and the other with white paint. With navy kit consisting almost entirely of white or black items, the white paint was to be used to mark the black ones and black to mark the white ones. Kit items had to be marked in the precise location identified by the senior sailor conducting the whole activity. Opportunities for error abounded: the wrong colour paint could be used, an item could be marked in a non-approved position or marked in a messy or indistinct manner. The error rate by the boys was proportional to the declining composure and increasing frustration of the shouting and swearing senior sailor conducting the activity. In the late 1960s erring boys were sometimes punished by being marked on the face using their own name stamp dipped in either black or white paint. The end of the activity usually produced a scene in which the boys struggled to flee the scene burdened with a bulging and very heavy kitbag, many with faces defaced by the repeated application of their paint- dipped name tag. One former junior recruit, Bob Scott, recalls the lack of empathy and understanding in the process and the hurt and insult he felt as a result of being called a ‘little bucket of snot’ by the senior sailor in charge of the activity.5


    Boys marking their new kit in Leeuwin’s gymnasium, January 1961
    (Kev Connolly)
    New junior recruits shared an experience endured by probably every military recruit the world over – their first military haircut. Leeuwin had two barbers under contract who were, due to their names and accents, referred to by most junior recruits and staff as ‘Von Snips’ or simply ‘Snips’ and his son ‘Snips Junior’.6 Every junior recruit had a standing appointment every two to three weeks for a short back and sides ‘Leeuwin style’ haircut and during each working day the small wooden hut that constituted the barbershop was the scene of a production line as the boys’ hair was cut swiftly at low cost. For the new boys, long 1960s and 1970s hair styles were transformed quickly into the haircut they would sport for almost the remainder of their naval career. For many, uniform caps tried on for size so recently during the kitting up process no longer fitted.
    Injections and inoculations against a range of diseases were also conducted by a production line approach wherein boys filed past sick bay staff who took turns until each boy had received the number of needles he required. Fainting was common and for those who did not cope well with needles it could be a very unpleasant experience. Sore and scabby arms added to the boys’ woes for a few days thereafter.
    A central feature of life for a sailor is his ‘division’, the divisional structure being the Navy’s traditional method of organising a ship’s company into groups for command, leadership, management and welfare purposes. In ships, divisions are organised along employment category or branch lines and in the simplest structure as found in a small

    ship there would be a seaman division, a supply division and an engineering division. Large ships could also have a medical division and an aviation division while those in the seaman employment categories could, for example, be allocated to a gunnery division, a torpedo anti-submarine division or a communications division. In Leeuwin junior recruits of the same division were accommodated together and led by a divisional staff usually comprising a Divisional Officer normally of lieutenant commander or senior lieutenant rank, assisted by Divisional Senior Sailors usually of chief petty officer and petty officer rank.

    A junior recruit receives his first navy haircut from ‘Snips Senior’, Cornelius van Aurich (RAN and Rene van Aurich)
    In 1960 training began with five divisions, each named after a prominent Western Australian aborigine of the early 19th century: Kaiber, Mokare, Nakina, Winjan and Yagan. As the numbers of junior recruits undergoing training increased and as the Navy continued to have difficulty in providing experienced divisional officers, new divisions were formed, new names were added and old names discarded. According to former junior recruits who served in Leeuwin at the time a Wylie division was formed for a short period in 1963 but no trace of it exists in official records. Also in 1963, the existing divisions became sub-elements of the Forecastle Division, the Fore Top Division, the Main Top Division and the Quarterdeck Division, with the Main Top Division having

    in it Nakina 1 Division and Yagan 1 Division. This structure remained in place for a year before reverting to the old structure. In 1965 use of the aboriginal names ended and the practice began of naming divisions after former RAN officers. Initially Collins, Morrow, Howden, Rhoades and Morris were used, with Marks, Stevenson, Walton and Ramsay added later. Other reorganisations occurred in 1967 and 1968 both specifically aimed at adjusting the mix of intakes in each division. This varied between having all intakes represented in each division to having the newest intake form its own divisions. The trial of different division-intake mixes seems to have become more important over time, an endeavour to make the sharp divide between intakes less clear and to thereby reduce a growing culture of inter-intake tension and status seeking that had resulted in bullying by members of the senior intakes. In the late 1960s there appears to have been a determined effort made to adjust the mix with one goal being to have members of the senior intakes assume more responsibility for the welfare and informal training of members of more junior intakes.
    Ramsay Division was formed in 1972, thereby commemorating Commodore James M Ramsay, the NOICWA and Naval Officer Commanding Western Australia (NOCWA) from January 1968 to January 1972.7 The practice of using the names of former RAN officers continued until the end of the junior recruit training scheme in 1984 although, as intakes increased or decreased in size, divisions were sometimes further sub-divided into ‘port’ and ‘starboard’, or into numbered sub-divisions such as Rhoades 1 and 2. For the 86th, and last, intake there was only one division, Ramsay, comprising 40 boys.

    classes


    Class assignment, as described previously, was determined by an interview with Leeuwin’s Senior Psychologist and would see the boys placed in six classes graded from A to F. While there were normally about 25 boys to a class the desirability of having boys of the same class allocated to the same division led to some experimentation. In the first year of Leeuwin’s operation, each of the accommodation blocks housed 31 boys, with the result that some classes were spread between two blocks and between different divisions. The administrative inconvenience of this led to class sizes being increased to 31 by Leeuwin’s CO, apparently against the wishes of the navy instructor officers responsible for educational outcomes.

    Accommodation


    Despite the favourable impression held by the Working Group, Leeuwin was not well prepared for its junior recruit training role in terms of accommodation, dining, and general recreational facilities and it would be nearly a decade before significant improvements were made. The decision to accommodate from March 1960 sailors serving as staff members in Leeuwin, in preparation for the arrival of junior recruits in July 1960, required in the words of the then CO ‘the adoption of emergency measures to cook adequate meals’.8

    Boys in the early intakes were accommodated in WWII-vintage wooden blocks each having a capacity to sleep 30 to 40 boys. These spartan buildings were referred to by junior recruits and staff members as ‘dongas’. Ken Dobbie, of the 6th intake, recalls that they were unheated, single story, timber framed buildings with corrugated cement sheeting roofs and interior walls, exterior cladding of asbestos-cement sheeting painted pale green and windows of a swung out casement design. Each building had an entrance with wooden steps at either end. The timber floors, despite being covered with brown linoleum, were noisy to walk on. Each boy had a standard navy dormitory-style locker made of varnished wood with a small desk incorporated in it. These were lined up back-to-back down the centre of the building with a chair provided at each desk. Grey-painted beds of iron and wire construction, with thin foam rubber mattresses, were lined up perpendicular to the walls down each side of the building. Unshaded incandescent bulbs down the centreline of the building provided light; there were no reading lights over the beds. Showers and toilets were in a separate central facility of asbestos-cement sheeting and concrete floor design. Except for the obligatory RAN signs about discipline and fire safety, decoration was not permitted.

    Junior recruit Ric Turesson standing in the doorway of K ‘donga’ in the early 1960s
    (Glen MacAndrews)


    Interior of a ‘donga’ (RAN)
    Sheets were issued as ‘loan clothing’ and one sheet was washed in a laundry service once a week. Bedcovers - ‘counterpanes’ in navy jargon - were washed once a term. For the washing of uniforms a laundry building was also located within the donga complex. This was equipped with Lightburn brand, ‘cement mixer’ style, washing machines and drying rooms heated by electric fan heaters. Laundry powder was supplied free. Ironing boards were also attached to the walls but irons had to be purchased from the canteen by each boy. Strands of fencing wire were fixed between each donga for use as clothes lines but all clothes had to be removed during working hours. At one stage in 1960 a staff member sailor was appointed to do the washing for junior recruits in bulk. However, the practice was discontinued due to the poor quality of the job being done, the very low status of the job probably being reflected in the task performance. In January 1961, the then CO stated that he considered the junior recruits’ laundry facilities to be ‘most inadequate’.9
    Each donga was patrolled at night by the Naval Dockyard Police who did a bed check and provided a general security service although in the view of some boys they often took their role too seriously. The ‘turning out’ of complete divisions at night was not unusual because of noise or unruly behaviour and duty divisional staff would often be seen running boys around the parade ground at all hours.

    Construction of the first of seven multi-story brick accommodation blocks began in 1963. The blocks were intended to represent the stark but much more cluttered and less spacious environment of the shipboard mess deck in which the boys would live post-Leeuwin. Designated with the letters A to G each block could house 200 boys with up to eight living in each door-less cubicle situated either side of a central corridor. Heads, showers and a laundry room were located at one end of each floor. Offices for divisional staff members were located immediately inside the ground floor entrance of each block. Within cubicles each boy was allocated a bunk and a four compartment locker in which all his possessions except his bedding, towel, cap and raincoat (known as a Burberry) had to be stowed. Boys were not permitted to leave personal items outside their lockers nor were they permitted to decorate or otherwise personalise their cubicle with photographs, posters or other items. Immediately after ‘wakey wakey’ each morning each boy had to strip his bed and fold and place all his bedding in the regulation folded manner atop his mattress where they stayed until beds could be readied for use after evening inspection - ‘rounds’ - by the duty officer. Clothing or personal items left laying about - ‘sculling’ - were removed to be later collected from a staff member along with a fine, an oral censure or worse.

    B accommodation block in the mid-1960s (RAN)


    The interior of B block showing the door-less cubicles and junior recruits of the 22nd intake skylarking (John Bailey)

    Junior recruits inside a B block cubicle. Pictured left to right are
    P Betts, B Adams, J Bailey, J Allen, G Bain and W McNee (John Bailey)

    While a significant improvement over the old dongas the new blocks were not particularly comfortable places in which to live. There were few showers, with the ratio of boys to a shower varying over the years of the scheme between 12 and 25 to one. Laundry facilities remained barely adequate. Even given the better standards provided in the new blocks conditions were such that early in 1972 the incoming NOCWA expressed his surprise at the ‘spartan nature of the accommodation blocks’ and his desire to make them seem more homely.10

    uniform


    After receiving their issue of navy uniforms shortly after arrival in Leeuwin the boys had to send home all their civilian clothes, except underwear. While boys who came from Perth or nearby, and some who were sponsored by local families, did have access to civilian clothing, most boys possessed only the navy uniform clothing that they would wear for almost the remainder of their year. The single thing that distinguished their uniform from that of their adult colleagues was that they wore badges on each shoulder – referred to as a ‘flashes’ in the Navy – bearing Tingira in capital letters. The practice of wearing the flash seems to have varied over the years. In the early days boys wore the Tingira flash on both shoulders of their uniforms. Later in the 1960s, after the introduction for all Navy officers and sailors of shoulder flashes bearing the word ‘Australia’, the Tingira flash either replaced the Australia flash on one shoulder or was placed immediately beneath the Australia flash. Wearing the flash served the triple purpose of providing a link back to the boys of the training ship moored in Rose Bay, distinguishing them from their adult junior sailor colleagues and, to the chagrin of junior recruits but no doubt to the approval of their parents, advertising them to the public, to Naval and civilian police and to publicans as minors under the legal drinking age.
    All boys had to sew flashes on each shoulder of almost every one of their new jackets, shirts and ‘white fronts’ – the traditional sailor’s tee shirt worn as outer wear in summer or under a seaman’s black jersey in winter. Sewing was done using a ‘housewife’, a 20 centimetre square compartmented navy sewing kit containing black and white cotton and needles. When not in use it was rolled into a small cylinder for ease of stowage in a sailor’s locker. For boys accustomed to having their mother mend and alter their clothing the need to sew was a shock that frequently produced gross insults to the tailor’s art. In late-1977 the NOCWA proposed to Navy Office in Canberra that the wearing of the Tingira flash cease. He did so on the grounds that as adult sailors were now permitted to wear civilian clothes off base, and as that privilege had also been extended to some junior recruits in 1976, wearing of the flash was unnecessary. He added that it would also save the RAN money and improve the appearance of junior recruits whose poor standards of sewing degraded the visual appearance of their uniforms. While no record exists of a formal Navy Office response to the proposal it seems not to have found favour as the flash continued to be worn.


    Commodore Robert L Shimmin, RAN, presenting Cerberus Junior Recruit MR Cain with the prizes for best all round recruit and academic results.
    On Cain’s shoulder can be seen the Tingira ‘flash’ (The Age)
    Within Leeuwin junior recruits wore plain black and ugly leather ankle boots that were expected to be kept at all times in a high shine and spit-polished for parades and other ceremonial events. The two pairs each boy owned wore down rapidly from jogging to and from classes which meant frequent resoling, a task that in the late 1960s was alleged to have been done by prisoners in Fremantle jail. Webbing anklets and belts were worn during working hours also. Until late in the scheme when black items were introduced, webbing was whitened with a daily application of ‘blanco’. The brass buckles and removable clips were expected to be highly polished in readiness for morning ‘colours’ parade on working days. Many former junior recruits complain that this unrelenting daily attention to cleaning webbing either put them off uniform cleaning forever or produced an opposite effect, one of personal sartorial fastidiousness that lasted throughout their naval careers into civilian life.
    In July 1976, the privilege of wearing civilian clothes while on short term leave in Western Australia was extended on a trial basis to the senior class of junior recruits during the last three month of their training. The aim of the trial was to ease the transition of junior recruits from Leeuwin’s closely controlled and regulated environment to the less restrictive, more adult, milieu that existed in the ships and bases in which they would serve after leaving Leeuwin. The trial was regarded as a success and junior recruits in the final months of their training continued to enjoy the privilege until the training scheme’s conclusion.

    Boys selected for higher education and transfer to the topman scheme wore, as did upper yardman officer candidates, uniform devices to distinguish them from junior recruits and ship’s company members. In summer uniform these were blue strips of cloth about an inch wide and four inches long attached ‘fore and aft’ on both shoulders. In winter uniform, white stripes were worn in the same position, a practice which led junior recruits in the late 1970s to refer to them as ‘band aid boys’. Topmen lived a life almost separate from the junior recruit population wherein they undertook academic studies throughout the day and each evening from Monday to Friday, and on Saturday mornings. Except for some participation in sports and limited drill instruction with the heavy cutlass, their lives in Leeuwin were devoted to academic studies.

    routine


    Although it varied over the years, a junior recruit’s stay in Leeuwin had three major parts: an induction period and two terms of study. A mid-calendar year leave period separated the two terms except for those who entered Leeuwin in an April intake. All boys received home leave at Christmas. In its report the Working Group foresaw each week having 30 hours of study, plus one hour of ‘preparation’ each weekday evening and further instruction each Saturday morning if required. This outline was converted by Leeuwin staff members into a ‘basic daily routine’ for the first intake of junior recruits of:

    0530

    Call the hands

    0600

    Fall in, clean ship

    0655

    Breakfast

    0755

    Fall in for morning parade

    0800

    Colours(ceremonyofraisingthe Australianntionalflagandthe Australian White Ensign) followed by divisions (inspection and march past) and prayers

    0815

    First study period

    0915

    Second study period

    1015

    Stand easy (a break)

    1030

    Third study period

    1130

    Hands to bathe (swimming) in summer or physical training

    1200

    Dinner

    1315

    Fourth study period


    1415

    Fifth study period

    1515

    Sixth study period

    1615

    Tea

    1630

    Recreation

    1845

    Supper

    1945

    Commence evening preparation

    2030

    Secure

    2100

    Secure, clean for rounds

    2115

    Turn in (to bed)

    2130

    Rounds, lights out


    This routine varied over the years. For example, call the hands was moved to 0600 and then to 0630, but regardless of the time late risers could find themselves clad in pyjamas and slippers double marching around the parade ground carrying their mattress and bedding. Rounds were advanced to 1900 and lights out was deferred until 2200 in order to give boys more undisturbed time for study and recreation after completion of rounds. However, in a community comprised of large numbers of 15 and 16-year-old boys ‘undisturbed time’ was seldom available to a boy intent on study.
    Life was conducted ‘at the rush’. For new boys each weekday morning was a time management nightmare wherein they had to shower, shave (not shaving was a punishable offence), eat breakfast, scrub and tidy their cubicle, and go to the armoury where, in a scene reminiscent of the Tingira petty officers wielding their stonnachies, gunnery instructors ‘laid on’ with .303 rifle bayonet scabbards to make boys hurry up in drawing their rifles. After falling in by division on the parade ground they were inspected, participated in the colours ceremony and marched past. After the parade, held in all but extreme weather conditions, boys double marched off by class for their first period of instruction.
    In addition to being responsible for the cleanliness and tidiness of their own living spaces, all boys shared the burden of communal domestic duties. They could work as kitchen hands, cleaners and scullery party in the dining hall; do garbage disposal duty; assist various staff members in a wide variety of base duties including gunner’s party, where they maintained the establishments many rifles; and acting as messengers, cleaners and general assistants in the many offices of Leeuwin’s administration organisation. Certain jobs, particularly those in some of the offices, were preferred over others as they involved little work and the opportunity to relax, to read and to drink as much coffee or tea as desired.


    Junior recruits parading with Lee Enfield .303 rifles pre-1968 (RAN)

    A 1972 junior recruit parade with L1A1 7.62mm self loading rifles (RAN)

    A special routine applied for boys awarded a formal punishment. Those experiencing a period of punishment were, in navy jargon, said to be ‘on chooks’ and in daily orders were referred to as ‘MUP’ - Men Under Punishment. For them, private time was further restricted and the need to rush intensified by the inclusion of extra work and (usually fairly painful) rifle drill on the parade ground. For these boys, the more incorrigible of whom experienced multiple punishments in their year at Leeuwin, their very tiring daily routine involved:

    0530

    Call the MUP

    0600

    Fall in at the Gangway for roll call and work detail

    0645

    Secure, rejoin junior recruit normal routine

    1230

    Fall in at the Gangway for roll call and work or drill

    1300

    Rejoin junior recruit normal routine

    1630

    Fall in on the parade ground for drill or work

    1800

    Rejoin junior recruit normal routine

    1900

    Fall in at the Gangway for roll call and work detail

    2100

    Secure, rejoin junior recruit normal routine

    Drill and ceremonial


    Drill, usually with rifles, was a significant feature of the life of junior recruits. In addition to the parades – ‘divisions’ as the Navy calls them - there were ceremonial divisions conducted during working hours at regular and frequent intervals, church parades, leave inspection parades and quarterly graduation parades. Few boys graduated from Leeuwin without having marched through the streets of Perth to mark an event or paraded as a member of a guard to welcome or farewell a visiting regal or vice regal dignitary. The boys also marched on Anzac Day and to commemorate significant military events such as the Battle of the Coral Sea and Trafalgar Day. The opening of the Western Australian Parliament, Western Australian Foundation Day, the annual Seafarer’s Service and the Royal Agricultural Show were other events marked by the parade of a guard of, usually, 100 boys. On 21 October 1962, in the presence of the Mayor of Fremantle and others, 50 junior recruits performed the ceremony Death of Nelson. Drill at Leeuwin was, as a result, of a relatively high standard.
    From 1960 to 1968 junior recruits drilled with and were taught to maintain and fire the Lee Enfield .303 rifle that had been the standard individual weapon of the Australian forces for most of the 20th century. Unloaded but with bayonet fixed it weighed about three kilograms and was over five feet long, about the height of many junior recruits. After Navy drill changed from shoulder carriage of rifles to the modern side carriage


    Topmen parading with the cutlass in 1971 (RAN)
    style Leeuwin’s .303s were modified by the addition of a wooden handle screwed to the magazine. While highly uncomfortable to use for prolonged periods it satisfactorily mimicked the handle of the rifle that would replace the .303 from 1967 the L1A1 7.62mm self loading rifle (SLR). Weighing about the same as the .303 the SLR had a much shorter bayonet, and was therefore easier to manage and much more comfortable to use than its predecessor. Topmen drilled with rifles but were also taught to parade with the navy cutlass. This ancient weapon was heavy and very uncomfortable to hold in the ‘at attention’ position for long periods.

    Pay


    In the November 1907 ‘Harvester’ ruling a fair and reasonable minimum wage for Australian workers was set at seven shillings per day. In contrast, the wage of an Australian able seaman in 1919 was five shillings and six pence per day while those who joined the Tingira scheme as a Boy 2nd Class in 1912, earned seven shillings per week of which one shilling was received in hand each Wednesday, the remainder going to a bank account.11 Boys 1st Class received ten shillings and six pence per week gross and one shilling and sixpence in hand each week. Their 1960 counterpart’s pay was age-based with junior recruits younger than 16 receiving nine shillings and two pence per day. On turning 16 their pay increased to fourteen shillings and two pence per day. At the age of 17 they received one pound and six shillings per day. Boys of 17 also received two shillings and six pence uniform allowance per pay but were responsible for the upkeep of their kit unlike younger boys who received free uniform items to replace those damaged through fair wear and tear. Even given the increased purchasing power of Australian currency in 1960 boy’s pay rates were not much of an advance of those in 1912. A summary of the boys’ pay and pocket money rates over the years is shown in Table 2.

    Year

    Junior Recruit

    2nd Class/Boy 2nd Class

    Junior Recruit

    1st Class/Boy 1st Class

    1912

    £0/14s/0 gross, 2s pocket money

    £1/1s/0d gross, 3s pocket money

    1960

    year-old – £4/11/8 gross, 15s pocket money

    year-old – £7/1/8 gross, 15s pocket money

    16-year-old - £7/1/8 gross, £1/0/0 pocket money

    17-year-old - £14/4/6 gross including uniform allowance, £1/0/0 pocket money

    1970

    year-old – $18.76 gross, $10 pocket money

    year-old – $26.04 gross, $10 pocket money

    year-old - $26.04 gross, $12 pocket money

    year-old - $28.93 gross including uniform allowance, $12 pocket money

    1980

    $65.00

    $87.00


    Table 2: Fortnightly Pay Comparison

    Until 1973, boys did not receive all their pay in hand. Instead, like their Tingira forebears, they only received pocket money in hand with the balance of their pay deposited into a Commonwealth Bank account opened by the RAN on their behalf. Each boy’s account passbook was handed to him shortly before his departure from Leeuwin after passing out. A further stipulation was that junior recruits were not to have large sums of money in their possession. Early in the 1960s junior recruits second class were not permitted to have more than £2/0/0 in their possession at any one time while a junior recruit first class was permitted to have not more than £3/0/0. Compulsory banking was abolished by Naval Board decision in 1973 prompting the NOCWA to observe in October of that year that many boys were:
    Squandering their pay on expensive consumer items and offences involving alcohol are increasing. Nevertheless, I believe that the Naval Board decision will have the effect of cushioning the dramatic rise in pay when adult rates are received after they leave Leeuwin and therefore in the long term the decision will be of benefit.12
    While many former junior recruits recall always being short of cash and having to borrow from family and mates, they did not actually need much money to survive in Leeuwin - providing they did not smoke or over-indulge in soft drinks or lollies. Cleaning materials for uniform maintenance and hygiene items were the biggest drain on their income but it was not until 1980 that each boy’s pay was ‘docked’ a small amount to cover ‘LWF’ – laundry, welfare and haircuts. As was customary in the armed forces

    at the time, all boys received free food, accommodation, medical and dental treatment and paid annual leave travel. The boys received their pay every second Thursday in the traditional naval manner. Having fallen in alphabetically on the parade ground each boy, on hearing his name called, marched forward to the Supply Officer to salute, show his identification card, call out his name and service number and receive his pocket money in a small manila envelope. Opportunistic divisional staff members and Regulating or Naval Police Coxswain Branch sailors took advantage of the pay parades to detect boys with overly long hair, scruffy uniform or other minor deficiencies.

    Leave


    Like their adult sailor colleagues, junior recruits were entitled to two types of leave – ‘seasonal’ and ‘short’. Seasonal leave was taken mid-term by all boys except those who entered in an April intake while the Christmas break applied to all boys. Junior recruits, however, received six weeks seasonal leave, much more than their adult colleagues. In the days before air travel was common, for boys who lived far from Leeuwin, in North Queensland for example, seasonal leave could involve up to 10 days rail travel, sitting upright in a hard seat with no entitlement to a sleeper.
    Short leave refers to that taken on a weekly basis. Junior recruits’ entitlement to short leave varied throughout the duration of the scheme. No boy was allowed any leave during his first few weeks at Leeuwin – the ‘initial training period’. Later they were granted leave on Saturdays and Sundays providing they were not undergoing punishment or required to remain on board for domestic duties as part of the Duty Watch, a commitment that recurred every four to six weeks. Short leave began to be granted on Friday nights in 1971 in an effort to make the Leeuwin lifestyle less restrictive. Leave expired at 2200 for junior recruits second class and at midnight for first class boys, with late return invariably attracting a formal charge and punishment unless a very good excuse could be given. Exceptions to this rule were boys with homes in the Perth and Fremantle region and those boys fortunate enough to obtain ‘sponsors’.
    For almost 24 years, Leeuwin staff ran a scheme in which boys, particularly those from states other than Western Australia, could spend leave with families residing in Perth, Fremantle and nearby country areas. On Father’s Day 1960 Leeuwin staff members and the local RSL and Rotary Clubs organised for 150 junior recruits to participate in a ‘Father for a Day Scheme’. As time went by such ad hoc events developed into a formal sponsorship scheme managed by a warrant officer staff member appointed for the task. Sponsorship allowed boys, with the approval of their parents, to stay overnight with carefully selected families. For the boys it offered some respite from regimented life in the blocks, an opportunity to change out of uniform into civilian clothes and the chance to talk to females. Many families sponsored multiple boys over the years, producing life-long friendships, correspondence and, in some case, marriages between boys and daughters of sponsor families.


    A flyer seeking families to sponsor junior recruits (RAN)

    For boys without sponsors and with little cash in their pockets, there was not a great deal to do while on short leave. Low level tensions between local youth and the uniformed junior recruits on short leave meant that junior recruits usually moved in groups. While much of Fremantle, particularly the area of hotels in the west end of the town, was out of bounds, it did attract boys seeking to purchase alcohol illegally with the assistance of unscrupulous or mistakenly sympathetic hotel staff. Many boys frequented the Flying Angel Club built in Fremantle in 1966 on the site of the Eastern Seafarers Club first established in 1943 to cope with a wartime influx of Asian sailors. While not the sort of place normally associated with youth entertainment the Flying Angel was within easy walking distance of Leeuwin and constituted a ready refuge from their daily rigours where the boys could play billiards or the juke box and savour cheap take away food and drinks.

    Health


    Many ex-junior recruits have a strong recollection of Leeuwin as a time when they were almost always hungry, despite the fact that junior recruits, apprentices and cadet midshipmen received an ‘extra victualling allowance’ to cater for their bodily growth needs. A long and busy daily life in which boys had to double march during working hours, play afternoon sport, and undergo regular physical fitness training combined with the voracious appetite of any teenage boy made meals major milestones in their day. In the early 1960s, Kai, a thick chocolate-based drink issued to sailors in the night watches at sea, was also issued to boys at 2100 along with a piece of cake but this practice was soon discontinued and the only food sources thereafter were meals or the canteen. Food could not be stored or consumed in the boys’ accommodation. In the words of John Lilley a junior recruit of the 23rd Intake in 1968, ‘no fat JRs left Leeuwin’.13
    In Leeuwin as in the Fleet great importance was placed on personal hygiene, the cleanliness and neatness of uniform, and of accommodation. Both were inspected daily and staff members were quick to issue kit musters to boys who failed to meet the standards required. Naval standards were difficult to accept and achieve for many of the boys whose mothers had formerly done all their washing, ironing, cleaning and tidying. Those who could not match up often received a ‘scrubbing’, an involuntary wash with ‘Pusser’s Hard’ soap, or sand soap, and hard brooms and scrubbing brushes. For boys on the receiving end of such a scrubbing it was humiliating and painful.
    Similarly, throughout the RAN there was a stigma attached to being a too-frequent visitor to the sick bay. Those who did were labelled ‘sick bay jockeys’ and combined with the fact that a visit to the sick bay was never a pleasant experience this produced a culture in which boys would endure ailments and only seek medical aid when instructed to do so or when the nature or severity of their complaint made it unavoidable. However, the health of junior recruits was of a relatively high order. A reasonably well balanced

    diet, an energetic lifestyle with a strong emphasis on sport, ready access to medical and dental treatment and the naval fixation with neatness and cleanliness all helped prevent illness and provide a ready cure when it did occur.
    In a reflection of changing attitudes in the Australian community a broader approach was adopted in the 1970s to what constituted healthy living for junior recruits. In 1975, and at least in part due to the personal interest of the then NOCWA, ‘social issues’, ‘human relations education’ and drink driving began to be addressed in the syllabus. The development was expanded and formalised in 1976, notably with the inclusion of drug education.

    recreation


    Records show that throughout the life of the junior recruit training scheme Leeuwin’s staff members were very conscious of the need to put more into the boys’ lifestyle than regimentation and study. Leeuwin’s commanders and many individual staff members tried hard to provide activities that distracted and diverted the boys from a lifestyle in which they were confined for almost a year, in large numbers, to a small geographical area, under supervision for much of each day and subject to formal and informal discipline regimes that, if misapplied, would have undesirable outcomes. The difficulty in enriching their lives increased as the size of the junior recruit population grew, as the ratio of staff members to boys diminished and as the training curricula began to focus more narrowly on naval training rather than academics.
    From the outset the Leeuwin environment had features more characteristic of an officer’s training establishment like the Naval College at Jervis Bay than of a sailor training establishment like Cerberus. For example, in the early 1960s weekly dances were held on Friday nights from 1930 to 2200. It cost a boy two shillings to attend with the money going to dancing instructors Mr and Mrs Meakins who taught boys the Pride of Erin, waltzing and the quickstep to music from a record player. Dance partners were 15 to 17-year-old girls from the local community whose parents must have had considerable faith in the way the RAN managed these dances. A base bus did a circuit of Fremantle to pick up and drop off girls who, from the photographs available, clearly put a lot of effort into their appearance. Leeuwin staff members supervised the dances and girls were not permitted to leave the gymnasium where the dances were held. An added attraction for the boys was that sandwiches, cake, cocoa and ‘limers’ – navy fruit drink - were provided free of charge to all dance attendees. Towards the end of the 1960s dances were held monthly but these were discontinued in the 1970s. Many boys met their first girlfriends at a Leeuwin dance and the girls’ families often sponsored the junior recruit who had attracted their daughter. The girls also partnered boys at graduation balls and in many cases friendships arising from these dances endured and, like those relationships began during a sponsorship, often resulted in marriage.


    Smiling ‘band-aid-ed’ Topmen experiencing one of Leeuwin‘s less arduous tasks: escort duties for a local charity quest (RAN)

    An invitation to the graduation dance of the 2nd intake in 1961 (RAN)


    Junior recruits of the 37th intake having a barbeque at Garden Island, Fremantle, 1971 (Peter Crowe)
    During the period when the number of boys in Leeuwin was relatively small and manageable more cultural activities were offered. Quarterly Reports of Proceedings (ROPs) submitted by COs refer to boys being taken on arranged excursions to see plays, such as Murder in the Cathedral and La Traviata, at the University, free film showing on Sunday evenings and ballet, radio and television productions. Reference to such activities diminished over the years. Judge Rapke, who would undertake an inquiry into certain events at Leeuwin in the late 1960s, observed that recreational facilities for the boys were insufficient. As an example he referred to there being only one television available for all the many hundreds of boys.
    On long weekends groups of boys were taken away on camps or expeditions (OXPs). In the early 1960s Toojay Valley was the usual destination where, clad in their working clothes and carrying a blanket, water bottle and two Army ration packs, the boys were dropped off on Friday night and instructed to navigate to another point by Sunday afternoon. Later, Rottnest Island a few kilometres offshore from Fremantle was used, but for most boys the usual OXP venue was nearby Garden Island, the site of what is now Stirling, one of the RAN’s largest bases. There, in spartan accommodation with little staff supervision and very little sporting or other recreational equipment, boys fished if they had lines, snorkelled if they owned the gear, swam and attempted to avoid both the deadly dugite tiger snakes and the attention of members of more senior intakes many of whom used the OXPs to do as they wished. This usually involved running kangaroo courts with attendant minor punishment and humiliation of their juniors and sometimes more abusive activities handed out in retribution for wrongs perceived to have been committed in Leeuwin.


    The Windmill Trophy for inter-divisional boxing at Leeuwin (Peter Pascoe)

    ‘New grubs’ from the 70th intake participating in the annual swimming carnival, 1980 (John Perryman)

    A strong focus on sport for junior recruits endured throughout the existence of the training scheme. Leeuwin’s sports facilities were neither extensive nor of a high standard, particularly for boys who joined in the early 1960s. The NOICWA said in a 1960 ROP that:
    Extending and levelling of the Playing Field has now been completed and the sowing of new grass will be carried out in January, 1960. I am not satisfied that the levelling of the area will provide the standard of playing field to be expected for the financial outlay which has been made. The ground, while free from bumps, slopes down to the river by an amount which appears greater than is needed for efficient drainage. The matter is the subject of discussion with the Department of Works, whose representative maintains that this is an optical illusion.14
    Later the same year he reported that:
    Aided by Mr Abbot, Curator of the West Australian Cricket Association Ground, Mr Ward, Engineer of the Department of Works and myself laid the turf wickets on the playing field … The Department of Works representatives are now convinced that the slope of the ground is real
    … early rains have aided the growth of grass, although an unwanted crop of oats appeared overnight on the turf table.15
    While improvement did occur, it did so slowly. In his June 1968 ROP the NOICWA stated that ‘it is a matter of concern that extremely narrow limits are imposed on recreational programmes because of the grossly inadequate numbers of playing fields (two for 600 junior recruits)’.16
    Leeuwin relied heavily on the civilian community for access to sporting facilities. For example, despite the heavy emphasis placed by the RAN on swimming and water survival skills after the sinking of HMAS Voyager in 1964, Leeuwin did not have a swimming pool until November 1970. For water sports and training it relied on access to community pools. This was an irritant for Leeuwin staff but the links forged with the civilian community helped junior recruits participate in a wide range of civilian sports competitions. Additionally, Leeuwin conducted a very extensive inter-divisional competition, later called the McAllister Cup, founded on the idea that every boy should have the opportunity to represent his division in at least one sport. In 1963 the program was sufficiently staffed to permit boys who did not get to represent their division to undertake ‘optional sport’. In such cases a member of the physical training staff or another suitably skilled member of the ship’s company gave them a grounding in the rules and skills involved in a range of sports including sailing, rowing, squash, fencing, life saving, gymnastics, weight training and badminton. The magnitude of the sports competition was such that in 1963 Leeuwin awarded ‘colours’ for achievement in nine different sports. While an emphasis on sports continued throughout the scheme’s


    Leeuwin recruits Gary Kinnear and Ray Harper taking part in a boxing match in 1968 (Gary Kinnear)

    Junior Recruit A Okely of the 85th intake recieving a sports award, 1984 (RAN)

    duration it seems that the increasing numbers of boys being recruited, the subsequent lowering of the staff to boy ratio and the lack of navy transport saw a decline in the extent of the boys’ sports activities.
    Boxing was an activity which attracted a great deal of attention. Compulsory in 1960 for all junior recruits first class and voluntary for their second class colleagues, boxing was made voluntary for all boys in mid-1966. The fact that over 400 boys participated in the tournament in 1966 suggests that either the activity was very popular among the boys or the culture was such that boys felt obliged to join in. The boxing tournaments were a local spectator sport from the very start. At the first tournament held on 21 November 1960, the Second Naval Member, an admiral visiting from Canberra, was the guest of honour. In later years guests of honour included the Western Australian Police Commissioner, the Governor of Western Australia, the Chief of Naval Staff and senior officers of the other two Services. In August 1968, the tournament was even filmed by Channel 9 in Perth and later broadcast in Perth and Melbourne.
    Despite the best efforts of staff members, throughout the existence of the junior recruit training scheme, outside of sports, difficulty was experienced in providing a multi-faceted, active program of enriching recreational activities in Leeuwin. Access to newspapers, to television and to more cerebral pursuits was limited which often proved insufficient to divert them intellectually from the monotony of schoolwork, the lifestyle and mundane duties.

    junior recruits at HMAS cerberus


    Between 1963 and 1965 two intakes of junior recruits were trained at Cerberus in order to capitalise on the excellent recruiting response. Increasing the number of boys under training in Leeuwin was not possible because of the lack of infrastructure there, despite the work being done to upgrade accommodation and training facilities. Training for the first Cerberus intake of 125 boys began on 17 March 1963. A second intake of 200 joined on 5 April 1964. The first intake graduated on 26 March 1964 while the second graduated on 1 March 1965, both with the loss of only two boys. The extraordinarily good gradation rates suggest that the boys commitment and the quality of the training received were both high.
    Recollections of members of the Cerberus intakes suggest that the boys lived a relatively self-contained lifestyle without great involvement in the day-to-day activities of what was, and remains, the RAN’s largest training establishment. There is no evidence in the records of the existence of a close relationship between the, nearly collocated, adult and junior recruit training activities. Indeed, some of the Cerberus boys recollect their presence was only just tolerated and the separation was intentional. Given their age it is probable that isolation of the boys from the large number of adult sailors of all ranks present there was intentional and deemed to be in the boys’ best interests.


    Junior Recruit John ‘Jack’ Dunn in one of G block’s hammocks at HMAS Cerberus, April 1964 (Jack Dunn)
    Boys of the first intake were allocated to five divisions each of 25 boys. Boys of the second intake were allocated to seven divisions of about 28 in each. In Cerberus, divisions were named after colonial governors of New South Wales - Phillip, Hunter, King, Bligh, Macquarie, Brisbane and Bourke. The boys of the first intake were accommodated in G Block while the boys of the second intake were allocated to G Block and Getting Block. All took their meals in the Chief Petty Officer’s and Petty Officer’s Cafeteria. Getting Block was a modern brick building where the boys lived in four berth cabins in conditions similar to those in the more modern accommodation buildings at Leeuwin. G Block was a disused WWII-era weatherboard and asbestos sheet accommodation block that was formerly part of the adult recruit training school. In this block the boys slept in hammocks. Unlike Leeuwin where academic potential had no role in determining a boy’s allocation to accommodation, in Cerberus the academically strong recruits were ‘given preference in the accommodation [top floor] of Getting to enable them to carry out their evening preparation in their cabins’.17 Offices for the small junior recruit training staff of roughly 11 officers and sailors, a television room for the boys and a small canteen were also located in G Block.

    The daily routine for Cerberus boys was similar to that of Leeuwin boys. As in Leeuwin their naval training was to be at least the equivalent of that provided to Cerberus adult recruits but spread over almost a year rather than the shorter period the adult recruits experienced. The academic syllabus was the same at both establishments. However, having access to the well developed training facilities of the RAN’s major sailor training establishment may have enhanced the relative quality of the naval training provided to Cerberus boys. In terms of discipline and punishment, sports, drill and domestic duties life for junior recruits in Cerberus and Leeuwin was remarkably similar but according to the recollections of some Cerberus boys there were very few sponsor families and very little overnight leave throughout their courses. Understandably, the 321 Cerberus junior recruits pride themselves on being just a little bit different, not only from their adult recruit entry colleagues but from their Leeuwin colleagues also. This difference is reinforced to a degree by the fact that Cerberus boys were allocated official numbers from the block of numbers given to adult recruits (59000 and 63000 series) rather than from the block allocated to Leeuwin boys (93000 and up series).

    Commodore Robert L Shimmin reviewing the passing out parade of the first junior recruit intake at HMAS Cerberus on 26 March 1964 (RAN)

    Perceptions of the junior recruit Lifestyle


    Interviews with former junior recruits suggest that, unsurprisingly, a universally shared view of the lifestyle experienced does not exist. Extremely critical and extremely favourable recollections exist alongside what appears to be a majority view that it was tolerable, that its unpleasant aspects were bearable and that it had many enjoyable and satisfying features that prepared them well for later naval life and indeed, for life in general. Many boys recall that with home and family a very long way away from Leeuwin, even for Western Australians, homesickness was a significant problem. Homesickness was most keenly felt during the induction period with its shock of separation from family, encountering a completely alien, conservative and old-fashioned naval lifestyle, odd language, the pressure of learning quickly how things worked and to cope with time management challenges under the scrutiny of unsympathetic staff members and senior intake members. In this their experience was probably not vastly different from that of their cadet midshipman and apprentice counterparts in Creswell and Nirimba and, indeed, from that of boys in Australian boarding schools.
    For former junior recruits possessing highly critical views of the Leeuwin lifestyle their dissatisfaction and dislike seem to have begun after completion of the induction period. After this period the novelty had worn off, they had become a small participant in a lifestyle in which the major features were schoolwork and the need to function within a framework of rules and regulations wherein a small act of youthful absentmindedness or carelessness could produce a harsh disciplinary response. This was the period when unhappy letters to home were posted and when boys who could not adjust began to seek a way out. Exiting Leeuwin and the RAN was not easy, particularly before the the Navy’s introduction of voluntary discharge after only a short period of training. In the face of parental and staff exhortations to ‘give it a go’ boys felt trapped. Until the boys were given the right to elect discharge in 1970 the only means of escape were seen to be desertion, the commission of a serious disciplinary offense likely to result in discharge as punishment, wholesale failure in academic and professional subjects and general under-performance.
    Former junior recruits who enjoyed their Leeuwin experience give a range of reasons for having done so. For those from a farm, a remote rural town, an under-privileged or otherwise troubled family life it provided an excellent opportunity to escape. Many saw the ‘big smoke’ for the first time on the way to begin training at Leeuwin and even the relatively limited facilities there exposed them to ideas and to experiences that would never have been offered in their former life. Others, particularly those joining in the 1960s, recall that while hunger was a problem at Leeuwin they enjoyed access to a completely new and enjoyable range of foods after joining. Yet others consider that it gave them an opportunity to develop and grow, to learn how to adapt and cope, to overcome shyness and immaturity and to better understand their fellows by experiencing being in a position of responsibility and authority. In the words of one former junior recruit:

    Despite the conditions (and I did not think them too harsh) we all survived OK and were much the better for it. Those who perhaps found the conditions harsh or trying and as such regretful would most probably have found life at sea difficult particularly those who went on to serve in some of the older ships such as Sydney. Those who adapted and learned from the Leeuwin experience usually did quite well. I do not look back on my time as a JR with any regrets at all (perhaps one of the best years of my life).18
    Where Leeuwin boys differed most from their youthful counterparts in Creswell and Nirimba was the age at which they left the training environment and went to sea. Cadet midshipmen and apprentices completed three years in their respective training establishments and were at least 18 before beginning their first extended sea posting. Many junior recruits aged sixteen and a half were posted directly from Leeuwin to operational ships in which they would experience an extended deployment to Southeast Asia including active service in the Indonesian Confrontation or the Vietnam War before turning 17. The Navy did restrict the leave of its minor sailors but had little effective control over them once they were on shore leave, whether that be in Kings Cross or ‘Up Top’ in Bangkok, Hong Kong or one of the other regular ports of call for Australian sailors. While swearing, smoking, drinking and sexual activities were neither condoned nor actively encouraged by naval authorities neither were they actively discouraged or policed. These boys grew up very rapidly and if their emancipation from parental control had not occurred in Leeuwin it was certainly completed in the very adult, male only, environment of a deployed warship in which they enjoyed behavioural freedoms unimagined by most of their male age group in Australia. The alternative of posting boys only to ships remaining in Australia waters had its own problems summarised by the NOCWA in January 1975 who said:
    [Junior recruits] … leave Leeuwin fine, fit young men. Provided they are still given the supervision and understanding they need until they reach the age of 18, they will make good sailors, however, if thrown to the wolves of King Cross through joining ships in refit, there are many not capable of handling this type of situation due to immaturity. The only solution is organised leisure activities by the ships they join.19
    Clearly the Leeuwin experience had a very strong impact on the majority of junior recruits. Some boys who passed through Leeuwin believe that they were hurt or disturbed by their experience. However, others regard it as a character building experience and sound preparation for both the RAN and adulthood. It is reasonable to assume that many factors shaped individual boy’s experience of it. Those who had experience of boarding school life or who came from family circumstances that

    demanded independence and resourcefulness of them may have found the transition to life in Leeuwin less of a challenge than others. For those coming from a very nurturing family environment in which responsibility for cleaning, clothing and organising themselves rested with their parents, the first few weeks at Leeuwin, and possibly longer, would have been a demanding and often unpleasant time.

    Junior Recruit Peter Crowe of the 37th intake demonstrating the proper technique for a back fence exit from HMAS Leeuwin (Peter Crowe)

    endnotes



    1      For readers who seek more detail, individual accounts of life in Leeuwin can be found on a growing number of junior recruit intake and reunion internet web sites. The Gunplot website
    <www.gunplot.net> established and maintained by Russ Graystone, a 1969 junior recruit, is an excellent example.
    2      Letter to parents from a Navy Careers Officer in New South Wales, undated but likely to have been sent in the late-1970s in possession of the author.
    3      Letter to parents from a Navy Careers Officer in New South Wales.
    4      Recruits Handbook, HMAS Leeuwin, 1963, p. 57.
    5      R Scott, The Leeuwin Way (From Burrgue to Train Smash), The Life of a Naval Junior Recruit (1966 – 1967), unpublished manuscript, in possession of the author, Canberra.
    6      The barbers were Cornelius van Aurich (Snips Senior) and his son Rene (Snips Junior).
    7      In 1970 the title Naval Officer in Charge West Australia changed to Naval Officer Commanding West Australia.
    8      HMAS Leeuwin, Report of Proceedings (ROP),1 Jan-31 Mar 1960, p. 3.
    9      HMAS Leeuwin, ROP, 1 Sep-31 Dec 1960, p. 3.
    10  HMAS Leeuwin, ROP, 1 Jan-31 Mar 1972, p. 1.
    11  D Stevens, The Royal Australian Navy, Oxford University Press, Melbourne, 2001, p. 91.
    12  HMAS Leeuwin, ROP, 1 Jun-31 Aug 1973 dated 4 Oct 1973, p. 1.
    13  J Lilley, Call the J.R’s – Junior Recruits – Royal Australian Navy, undated, in possession of the author, p. 7.
    14  HMAS Leeuwin, ROP, 1 Sep-31 Dec 1960, p. 3.
    15  HMAS Leeuwin, ROP, 1 Sep-31 Dec 1960, p. 3.
    16  HMAS Leeuwin, ROP, 1 Sep-31 Dec 1960, p. 3.
    17  HMAS Cerberus, ROP, Apr-Jun 1963, dated 5 Apr 1963.
    18  K Dobbie, email to the author 24 Feb 2008.
    19  West Australia Area ROP, 22 Jan 1975, p. 7.

    The junior recruits at Leeuwin were an active part of the community involved in events such as the local Anzac Day march as seen here in April 1980 (John Perryman)


    Leeuwin Staff


    The junior recruit training scheme operated before the commercialisation and civilianisation reforms swept the Navy meaning RAN officers and sailors undertook most of the work in naval bases at the time. In Leeuwin, civilians undertook a limited range of administrative and support work and, as Leeuwin did not have sufficient uniformed staff members to perform all the establishment’s domestic duties, all junior recruits had to share the daily burden of cleaning, fetching and carrying, food preparation and general labouring.
    Providing the staff numbers needed to train and care for the boys was one of the bigger demands made on RAN resources by the junior recruit training scheme. Paradoxically, for a number of years after it began the junior recruit training scheme actually exacerbated rather than eased the staffing crisis that it was intended to overcome. With the boys undergoing a year at Leeuwin followed by a common sea training period and up to a year of category training it could be three years before Leeuwin’s graduates would add to overall sailor numbers. Moreover, the higher performing officers and sailors who as trainers at Leeuwin were expected to be exemplars for the junior recruits were the very people that the Fleet Commander and warship COs were loathe to divert from operational to training functions.
    The 1959 Working Group’s assessment was that to cope with a 300 strong junior recruit population and continue to undertake routine recruiting, Reserve training and minor operational roles, a total of 163 people would be required in Leeuwin. This work force included 28 officers, 20 chief petty officers, 16 petty officers and 77 junior sailors as well as a WRANS member for recruiting duties. Another requirement was 22 civilians for tasks such as gardening, clerical duties, tailoring and cleaning. In terms of employment branches Leeuwin’s uniformed complement included members of the Seaman, Communications, Engineering, Electrical, Supply and Secretariat, Shipwright, Medical and Air branches.
    Leeuwin’s ship’s company was organised in much the same way as the RAN’s other large training bases. Commanded by a commodore rank officer ‘dual-hatted’ as CO and NOICWA or NOCWA, it included Executive, Supply, Engineer, Medical and Instructor departments. Civilian psychologists and social workers were permanent members of the work force to cope with the collective needs of the boys and staff members. Leeuwin had an unusually large academic staff of uniformed instructor officers and senior sailor rank Academic Instructors to operate what was essentially a small junior high school required to deliver the academic components of the normal and advanced training streams. To address the naval elements of these streams Leeuwin had a seamanship school, a physical training section, a gunnery school responsible for drill and weapons training, staff to provide instruction in atomic, biological and chemical defence and damage control and a Chief Petty Officer Musician to train and operate the junior recruit

    drum and bugle band. In addition to their primary duties many officers and sailors shared responsibility for such things as first aid training, discipline and regulating, and branch familiarisation training intended to assist boys to make informed decisions about their choice of employment category post-Leeuwin.
    Staff shortages were a recurring topic in Leeuwin’s ROPs throughout the life of the scheme. The increase in junior recruits from 155 in July 1960 to 685 in March 1963 prompted the NOICWA to write to Navy Office that ‘it is essential to increase the number of instructor officers in proportion to the increase in the number of Junior Recruits’.1 Difficulty in providing Leeuwin with the right numbers of suitable divisional officers was a particular problem. Referring to his forecast shortage of ‘Executive Lieutenants’ the NOICWA said in April 1965 that he had overcome the ‘critical shortage of Divisional Officers … by selecting suitable Instructor Lieutenants with Divisional experience’.2 The shortage became so acute in 1966 that in order to cope with the officer shortage the entire junior recruit divisional structure was reorganised by increasing the number of boys in each division to 200. For a lieutenant in his early 20s, perhaps with little or no experience of divisional duties or of caring for teenagers, a posting to Leeuwin as a divisional officer was a very significant challenge.

    The Junior Recruit Drum and Bugle Band in the 1960s (RAN)

    The problem for Leeuwin was not simply one of staff numbers. There was the very significant question of staff members’ aptitude for and inclination towards boy sailor training. For many adult sailors a posting to Leeuwin was not a matter of choice; they could be posted at the whim of Canberra staff officers. Additionally, in an albeit well- intentioned effort to increase family contact time, preference would frequently be given to Western Australia ‘natives’ rather than to those with an inclination for training duties. The NOICWA put it neatly when, referencing opening day on 18 July 1960, he said in his address to the audience at Leeuwin’s first passing out parade in 1961:
    I seriously question if any of the officers, CPOs, POs or leading hands who were to be their composite guides, mentors and friends in matters naval, had ever been confronted with such a large mass of teenage youth about whom they had to do something fast.3
    It is highly likely that he was right. RAN sailors had not experienced boy sailor training since the demise of Tingira in 1927 and very few if any would have had any formal instruction in training techniques for adults or boys.
    The assumption seems to have been that sailors with a good disciplinary record and of high standards of performance at sea would naturally be adept at training and caring for youths. As with most assumptions this was misplaced, particularly in the case of able rank sailors who would have only been in their early 20s. The problem was well summarised by the NOCWA in April 1971 who commented to Navy Office:
    The able ranks have individually and collectively by departments represented some dissatisfaction with one aspect of their working conditions. This is the employment of all able ranks, with few exceptions, in four watches as Blocks Supervisors in the Junior Recruits’ quarters at night. This is a seemingly simple but yet quite onerous task for Junior sailors, and who are required to spend the day from the dog watches until breakfast time keeping order in the blocks. With 112 boys in a two storey block, 144 in a three storey block and 188 in a four storey block, all letting off steam of some sort and finding their feet by asserting themselves in one way or another, the weak supervisors are soon sorted from the strong and the good influence from the bad. Even backed up by duty leading hands, duty Petty Officers, duty chiefs and duty Officers this is a weakness in our organisation and quickly reveals weaknesses in our adult sailors. A duty adult in each block at night is essential and a disaffected adult sailor can do untold damage to newly joined impressionable Junior Recruits. An unsavoury incident or a few ill-chosen words at ‘Option Time’ ... [optional discharge decision time]
    … could well lead to a massed optional discharge. I cannot emphasize too strongly the need to post the best possible sailors to the staff of the JRTE and to keep the numbers up to complement.4

    An added irritation for many staff members was that a posting to Leeuwin was actually meant to constitute a respite period between sea postings when they would have been absent from their family for long periods and working very long hours in arduous conditions. Instead of the easy ‘eight to four’ daily routine anticipated, staff were, in addition to the very unfamiliar and uncomfortable pressures of dealing with teenagers, required to supervise junior recruit sports and recreation activities outside normal working hours and have their leave synchronised not with those of their family members but with the rhythm of the boys’ training calendar. Bringing the problem to the notice of Navy Office the NOCWA stated that:
    Leeuwin is probably the only shore establishment where Junior sailors of the Ship’s Company are restricted to four watches for leave, and for sailors in their home port this can be a significant source of dissatisfaction.5
    The heavy training work load, staff shortages, very high levels of responsibility for the most junior ranks and few opportunities for leave would not have made Leeuwin a popular posting choice. Critical references regarding the quality of the junior recruits’ lifestyle and the need to do more for them would have been both irritating and demoralising for a staff working hard to cover the gaps caused by shortages and to provide a good training experience for the boys.
    The nature of relationships between the boys and staff members varied considerably. At the basic level it was formal as, most unusually, all staff members regardless of their rank were called ‘sir’ by the boys, a practice objected to in the Fleet where it was carried over improperly by former junior recruits for whom it had become a deeply ingrained and highly undesirable habit. The boys’ subjection to the Naval and Defence Force Discipline Acts combined with a pervasive and unrelenting Leeuwin focus on obedience, neatness, cleanliness, conformity and the need to prepare for life at sea in a warship, inhibited the formation of more personal relationships between boys and staff members. In consequence, junior recruit attitudes toward staff members also varied. Boys liked, or at least cooperated well with, staff members who were fair, compassionate and slow to punish. They disliked and feared those whose response to any minor indiscretion was punishment, which could be formal or informal and was often physical. Leeuwin was fortunate to have many staff members in the former category who set a fine example and were role models in every respect. Members of each intake have memories of a good sprinkling of individuals whose behaviour and treatment of the boys was exemplary. A fine example of such men is Petty Officer Sick Berth Attendant Ken Hay who served as a divisional staff member at Leeuwin in the late 1960s. Lieutenant Commander ‘Johno’ Johnson, a transferee from the Royal Navy and Leeuwin’s long term Gunnery Officer is another.

    Master at Arms Charles Wright welcoming Anthony Toolan,
    Leeuwin’s 1000th junior recruit (RAN)
    Some staff members were unpopular among junior recruits not for their real or perceived individual failings but because of the nature of their duties. It is fair to say that gunnery and physical training instructors seldom attracted boys’ affection simply because of the physical nature of the activities they conducted and their capacity, and freedom, to raise its tempo to a level where it became a painful and exhausting form of informal punishment. Regulating staff were another category for whom the boys usually had little time. As Navy ‘police’ and enforcers of the abundant rules and regulations they fulfilled a gatekeeper role, figuratively and literally. At leave parades it was they who decided whether a boy’s uniform was of a sufficient standard to be allowed ashore in. An infuriating delay and loss of leave would often occur as a boy was sent back to his accommodation to remedy the deficiency and wait to report for a further inspection at the time of the staff member’s choice. Some regulating staff members are remembered for their eye-wateringly painful habit of smashing down on the bridge of the nose the caps of boys who wore them closer to the eyebrows than the regulation two finger widths. Staff members who resorted to group punishments for minor rule infringements by individuals were also heartily disliked. One boy skylarking after pipe down could result in the entire population of one floor of a block being turned out in pyjamas to double around the parade ground with kit bags or mattresses held above their heads.

    As previously mentioned, it was likely that the influence of well-liked staff members skewed the category decisions made by some Leeuwin boys. In an environment wherein a family member’s naval employment history often shaped a boy’s decision and where exposure to the realities of life and work at sea was extremely limited, a popular, persuasive or particularly chauvinistic adult sailor could strongly influence boys to make a categorisation decision that they would later regret.
    That Leeuwin operated for 24 years with very few calamitous events or abuses of the thousands of boys who passed through it suggests that on balance the quality of staff was good. Seen with 21st century eyes many aspects of Leeuwin training, lifestyle and culture seem old-fashioned, overly regimented and harsh, particularly those that existed in the 1960s. However, as explained earlier, Leeuwin did respond to changes taking place in Australian society and in the RAN itself. Staff performance and attitudes that existed towards the end of the scheme are likely to have differed markedly from those present at its start. The most fitting accolade for Leeuwin’s staff was probably that expressed by the NOCWA handing over command in January 1975 who said:
    I must also pay tribute to the officers, senior sailors, and junior sailors who staff the Junior Recruit Training Establishment. These men spend long hours outside normal working hours and over weekends ensuring that Junior Recruits are kept actively and usefully occupied. The Service owes these men much because it is on the results of their efforts that the quality of the bulk of the Navy’s manpower depends.6

    endnotes



    1      West Australia Area Report of Proceedings (ROP), 22 Apr 1963, p. 2.
    2      West Australia Area ROP dated 21 Apr 1965, p. 8.
    3      West Australia Area ROP dated 24 Jul 1961, p. 2.
    4      West Australia Area ROP dated 30 Apr 1971, p. 1.
    5      West Australia Area ROP dated 30 Apr 1971, p. 1.
    6      West Australia Area ROP dated 22 Jan 1975, p. 7.


    Discipline


    In Tingira punishment for boy sailors was mostly informal, and usually immediate and physical. Accounts refer to Tingira boys’ working day beginning with the ritual of climbing the ship’s rigging with the last boy to hit the deck on completion to feel a petty officer’s ‘stonicky’.1 The stonicky, a rope’s end lash also known as a ‘starter’, was once used in many of the world’s navies. In the Royal Navy it was used for centuries, particularly by bosun’s mates, petty officers appointed to undertake a range of shipboard duties including ‘livening’ the crew and administering floggings.2
    Accounts written in the 1960s and 1970s by Tingira boys describe a range of physical punishments administered to them for minor transgressions. In a poem titled The Butt on the Pin, LM Boxsell describes the punishment for those found smoking in Tingira:
    Six swipes of the wand, the offence deserves, Strapped o’er three sacks with jangling nerves. The Officer of the day, Sin Bosun and Quack, Assemble below to witness each whack. When the Sadists depart, you wander up top, Recounting each swipe you were destined to cop, Determined to cease ‘stinging’ butts on a pin’, Dice the lung-busters and live free from sin.3
    Similarly, for the crime of having taken part in an unauthorised activity ashore, the same author in a poem titled The Big Break Out describes how those involved received their punishment: ‘On the Orlop deck astride three sacks, “Skins” revelled in giving six mighty whacks. Some boys’ tails looked like a prize dahlia, While others resembled the map of Australia’. Boxsell also describes how, as an ‘offshoot of this adventurous prank, Gave vent to discussion - open and frank, As a petition to Parliament later decreed, To abolish forever, the foul swiping reed’. It is not clear whether the boys ever succeeded in raising such a petition but, in any event, it was not until 1919 that the use of the ‘cuts’
    - caning - was abolished as a punishment in Tingira.4
    Caning was not the only form of physical punishment used on boy sailors. One feature of Tingira discipline that would resonate with many ex-Leeuwin boys was the habit of instructors to use rifle drill as an instrument of punishment and pain. For inattention in class Boxsell recalls being ‘sent around the field a-nipping, Prancing with the musket high, o’er the green sward reeling’.5 At Leeuwin, half a century later, junior recruits would experience the similar misery of double marching around the parade ground with a rifle held at the ‘high port’ position across the chest or at extended arms length above the head, or more painfully doing ‘bunny hops’ with it in the same position.
    The Working Group report that lead to the reintroduction of the boy sailor entry stipulated three general requirements of discipline for the boys:

    • Care is to be taken that by precept and practice junior recruits are convinced that justice is being administered with utmost care and that punishments are only inflicted when they are thoroughly deserved. The root of all discipline, especially in young minds, lies in the feeling of confidence in those who have authority.
    • All offences and complaints are to be investigated in accordance with Royal Australian Navy Regulations and Instructions.
    • Punishments are only to be awarded by authorised officers.
  • As sensible as these requirements were, they were not unique to junior recruits; they applied to every sailor. Therefore, in effect, the general approach taken to discipline at Leeuwin was that junior recruits were subject to either the Naval Discipline Act or the Defence Force Discipline Act in exactly the same way as adult recruits. For offences committed against the acts, junior recruits were liable for most of the punishments that could be awarded to an adult sailor including:
    No 2 Dismissal from Her Majesty’s Service subject to Australian Commonwealth Naval Board approval
    No 5     Reduction to second class for conduct
    No 9 A maximum of 14 days extra work and drill during which time leave is stopped
    No 10   A maximum of 30 days stoppage of leave
    No 11  A maximum of 30 days stoppage of pay or pocket money
    No 14 A maximum of two hours extra work and drill during the recreation period for not more than 30 days
    No 15 Admonition, administered when a junior recruit was found guilty of an offence which of itself or in view of mitigating circumstances is not considered to deserve any more serious punishment. The offence and punishment were to be recorded.
    All punishments except for stoppage of leave, pay or pocket money were to be suspended on a Sunday but the day was still to count as part of the sentence. A person awarded punishment Number 2 had the warrant for his dismissal read to him in public, in front of the all junior recruits fallen in on the Leeuwin parade ground, as was then the practice for sailors throughout the Service. This practice was also referred to as ‘drumming out’. Accounts by junior recruits of the 1960s describe how boys punished with dismissal were paraded before the assembled junior recruit population to the beat of a drum and their shoulder flashes removed before they were banished from Leeuwin.

    The CO of Leeuwin could award any of the listed punishments but he delegated some powers to a small number of his subordinate officers. The XO could award punishments numbers 9, 10, 11 and 14 for up to a maximum of a week. Lieutenant commanders and lieutenants posted as Divisional Officers could award one day of extra work and drill to members of their own division. Junior recruits were not permitted to punish one another but LJRs were expected to assist staff in maintaining discipline and supervising the boys. LJRs principal duties were to supervise the cleaning of accommodation areas in preparation for evening rounds, prevent boisterous and noisy behaviour after pipe down and lead formed groups on the parade ground, roles that were for a short period in the early 1960s performed to a degree by Upper Yardmen.
    While boys appointed as LJRs did at times enjoy certain privileges such as better accommodation and the right to go to the front of meal queues, their role was never particularly enjoyable or easy. A boy could have his appointment cancelled for a minor misdemeanour and he could be ignored or challenged by members of intakes senior to his own. Much depended on an individual boy’s physical presence, demeanour and ability to call the bluff of boys who challenged his authority. Despite the shortcomings LJRs did perform a useful function. They relieved hard-pressed staff members, particularly able ranks on overnight duty in the boys’ accommodation blocks, from the more mundane work of organising cleaning parties and reporting to duty officers. Throughout the working day and for duty watch purposes they also ensured that classes or parties of boys turned up at the right place at the right time. Overall, they ensured the establishment’s daily routine worked.
    By the late 1960s a different attitude towards discipline seems to have developed in Leeuwin. In noting the importance of strong staff leadership to discipline among junior recruits, a revised version of ABR 697 issued in 1967 stated that the Naval Board ‘did not wish to place any restrictions of disciplinary sanctions’ at Leeuwin.6 It also stated that:
    When dealing with these young men it should be borne in mind that, like the state child welfare acts which are designed to deal with children under 18, the disciplinary system should be used to achieve correction and reformation rather than punishment and retribution.7
    It further noted that in a children’s court ‘the youth is made to feel that while he cannot transgress without punishment, because of his youth his transgression is treated less harshly than that of an adult’. In apparent contradiction of these liberal views the document also states that ‘prima facie sailors under the age of 18 are subject to the same discipline as adult sailors’. Rather than listing the punishments that might be applied to them, it simply stipulated that punishment numbers 3 and 6 (detention and cells respectively) should not normally be awarded.

    Boys who committed serious offences, whose overall standard of conduct was unsatisfactory or who were performing badly in academic or naval subjects could be placed on either Captain or Naval Board warning. In either case a boy’s parents were to be informed when their son was placed on warning. A boy so warned could be discharged when it was considered that no improvement would result from further instruction. Boys considered ‘undesirable’ could be discharged with Naval Board approval as either ‘unsuitable’ or on the grounds that their ‘service was no longer required’ also known as SNLR. Discharge under the terms of the latter process led to it generally being referred to by sailors as a ‘snarler’.
    In addition to the punishments that could be applied under the acts, junior recruits could also receive punishments of an administrative nature, either as individuals or as a class, division or other group, in order to correct minor deficiencies in behaviour, performance or attitude. In the gymnasium PTIs could subject a class undergoing a period of physical training to what was known in the Navy as a ‘shake-up’, a very rigorous, intense and usually painful activity including, for example, hanging from the gym’s wall bars until the boys felt that their arms were about to leave their sockets. An individual could receive similar personalised treatment from a PTI for having dirty gym shoes or for wearing un-ironed clothing. On the parade ground, a Gunnery Instructor could double march a class of junior recruits holding their rifles at the ‘high port’ position for as long as it took for him to believe that they had learned the error of their ways. Out of normal working hours, duty watch staff members could have entire divisions of boys fallen in outside their accommodation for extended periods or doubling around the parade ground wearing only pyjamas and footwear. A variation on this punishment, usually awarded to an individual boy, was to have him empty all his kit from his locker into a kitbag and carry that above his head around the parade ground.
    In the accommodation blocks it was common for divisional staff members to award ‘kit musters’, usually for a minor offence of wearing uniform improperly, or for wearing dirty, unironed or badly maintained clothing. Kit musters involved a boy laying out his entire naval kit on the floor of his cabin, in a very formal manner. Every authorised item of kit had to be present or otherwise accounted for, clean, carefully folded and laid out in a precise, officially prescribed manner. Deficiencies had to be purchased and failure to meet the standard could result in the award of successive kit musters until the staff member was satisfied. For most boys, preparing and presenting his kit was a stressful and deeply irritating process that dug deeply into what spare time a boy had for recreation.
    As their training year progressed the great majority of boys quickly conformed to the standards required and avoided, tolerated or laughed off punishments as just part of the game. However, some did not or could not, and thereby put themselves in the miserable position of being the target of instructors’ wrath almost every day of their stay in Leeuwin. This situation was exacerbated when their individual performance was seen

    as a poor reflection on the entire class or division. For boys in this position, criticism came not only from staff but from their class and division mates who sometimes would take on a role of either teacher or punisher. This was the cause of bullying and fights between boys and for the more immature, naive or disorganised boy, often became something that made life a misery, leaving them with few friends and ruining their entire year at Leeuwin. In some cases it led to a deterioration in attitude and performance that ended in formal punishment or discharge from the RAN.

    A junior recruit’s uniform possessions laid out on his bunk for ‘kit muster’
    (RAN)

    ‘Bastardisation’


    On 26 April 1971 allegations made by Shane Connolly, a junior recruit who had been in the RAN for less than two weeks, appeared in the media of bullying and initiation ceremonies at Leeuwin. The Canberra Times on 27 April reported that ‘the boy’s mother Mrs Doris Connolly, said last night that her son had been subjected to treatment similar to the “bastardisation” at Duntroon’. The Daily Mirror passed its judgement on the same day when it editorialised that:
    The systematic beating of a 15-year-old boy in an initiation ceremony is based, at best on a confusion between a so-called toughening process and a muddle-headed Tom Brown’s school days approach. But the worst feature is that the kind of initiation ceremony has clearly been sanctioned by the authorities in charge of the college. It has been going on for so long that it has become traditional and therefore not to be interfered with. Did the Navy learn nothing from the disclosures of bastardisation at Duntroon? Were the Admirals deaf to the Government inquiry into Duntroon practices? Were they blind to the subsequent repostings of senior officers? Charging the boys responsible for this puerile, stupid behaviour will not alter any attitudes at HMAS Leeuwin. This will happen only when the senior officers responsible are replaced by men with a more adult approach to the training of recruits. Just as was done at Duntroon.8
    In a report attributed to a Peter Young of Queenscliff, New South Wales and under the headline ‘Former Leeuwin Cadet Tells – Savagery’ the same newspaper published allegations on 29 April that he had suffered a ‘punctured lung … [and] … 10 operations after beatings’. It was also alleged that while Young was a junior recruit in 1966 and 1967 more senior junior recruits bullied, assaulted, stole from and humiliated their junior colleagues.
    Soon thereafter allegations of improper treatment made by a number of other ex-junior recruits were also published in the press. Lawrence Greystone was reported by The Melbourne Sun on 28 April as having been ill treated while training as a junior recruit at Leeuwin. He described queue jumping in the meal line, stand over tactics on new boys by longer serving junior recruits including the doing of chores for them, and an atmosphere of fear in which newer junior recruits slept with knives under their pillows to protect themselves from attacks by members of earlier intakes. Separately, Gary Parker, described as being a junior recruit in 1970, was reported in the press as being a victim of bashings, victimisation and humiliation.
    In the case of Shane Connolly, an RAN investigation revealed that on 19 April a group of about 20 junior recruits of more senior intakes had gathered around Connolly in the junior recruit’s canteen before five of them took turns fighting with him. Charges of

    assault were laid against his five assailants all of whom were ‘seen’ or paraded before Leeuwin’s Officer of the Day on 21 April and the XO on 23 April. They were tried by Leeuwin’s CO on 29 April. Four were punished while the fifth was acquitted.
    The then Minister for the Navy, Dr Malcolm Mackay, a navy officer during WWII, took a personal interest in the allegations. During a visit to Leeuwin on 21 May he addressed an assembly of all junior recruits and staff members. In a short but wide ranging speech touching on the Russian Fleet’s presence in the Indian Ocean, communism, democracy and the need for technologically-skilled sailors in the modern Australian Navy he explained his view that a warship was a ‘mighty special place’ in which thieves and bullies could not be allowed to prosper.9 Addressing directly the issues confronting Leeuwin he said that ‘if there is anyone here who believes that seniority means the right to gang up to terrorize the juniors … then he had better change his views smartly’.10 He concluded by saying that ‘there is no place for them [bullies] ... in the navy’.11 Eighteen days later he visited Leeuwin again to review the passing out parade of the 32nd Intake.

    The Minister for Navy, Dr Malcolm Mackay, inspecting the guard at the 32nd intake passing out parade in June 1971 during investigations regarding ‘bastardisation’ at Leeuwin (RAN)

    In statements to the House on 27 April 1971 Dr Mackay referred to the Connolly matter and to another fight between messmates at Leeuwin in which LJR JD Russell had been injured. He went on to describe the medical condition and treatment of Connolly and the disciplinary action taken in relation to the incident. He further said that he was ‘disturbed by the implications and will move immediately to have the whole matter investigated thoroughly’.12 On 28 April Dr Mackay announced in Parliament the appointment of Judge Trevor Rapke, QC, of the Victorian County Court to investigate the media reports of initiations or similar practices involving violence and more general allegations of bullying. Judge Rapke had acted in an honorary capacity as the Judge Advocate of the Navy since 1963. His terms of reference for the investigation were to consider and report to the Minister whether:
    There is evidence of any form of initiation or similar practices in Leeuwin involving organised physical violence, degrading or bullying behaviour, and whether there is any evidence over recent years of any pattern of undue physical violence or bullying amongst junior recruits.13
    Two days later the Minister announced that he had asked Judge Rapke to examine the Connolly case first, without prejudice to his wider inquiry. Specifically, he asked the Judge to report on the substances of the charges made in relation to Junior Recruit Connolly; the handling of those cases by the Navy; whether the charges had any relation to initiation processes; and whether, given the extent of media reporting of the Connolly matter, there was anything that could be reported to Parliament. Dr Mackay added that the inquiry will be:
    Strictly private - as though the Judge were talking with people in chambers. It would defeat the whole concept if the public or the press were present and these persons felt that they were speaking on the record.14
    Rapke would therefore interview junior recruits without senior RAN officers, or any other Navy people present. Apparently, the Minister and the RAN had authorised Judge Rapke to give assurances to those interviewed that no action would be taken against them for telling their story. Adding to the Leeuwin furore was an article that appeared in The Sunday Australian, 2 May 1971. The article published allegations by Ordinary Seaman JW White, a former junior recruit, of sadistic treatment of junior recruits on board the troop transport Sydney. Judge Rapke was also asked to examine this matter.
    Judge Rapke made a preliminary report to the Minister that dealt principally with the Connolly matter. The report dated 6 May 1971 was not made public because, in Dr Mackay’s words, it ‘contained the names of children and events and times and places which in my view should not be made public’. Judge Rapke’s final report dated 3 July 1971 was also not made public. Both reports, entitled Records of an Inquiry into Events that Alledgedly Occurred at HMAS Leeuwin and Onboard HMAS Sydney (The Rapke


    Inquiry), are now available in the National Archives of Australia but with a significant amount of text expunged on that basis that under subsection 33 (1) (g) of the Archives Act 1983, exemption prevents the unreasonable disclosure of information relating to the personal affairs of a person.15
    On 28 October 1971 the Minister made a lengthy statement in Parliament in which he said he did ‘not consider it would be desirable to make the report public’ but that a copy would be made available to the Deputy Opposition Leader, Lance Barnard, and the member for Fremantle, Kim Beazley, ‘so that it may be known that nothing of importance is hidden which should be made public’.16 The Minister described how Judge Rapke had interviewed 467 witnesses in Melbourne, Adelaide, Sydney and Brisbane and onboard Leeuwin and Sydney. These witnesses included serving and retired former junior recruits, RAN officers and other sailors, former members and staff members of both Leeuwin and Nirimba, and civilian witnesses including experts in criminology and social sciences. He had also accepted written submissions, had examined junior recruit medical records and participated in contact groups with people having an interest of one form or another in junior recruits and Leeuwin.
    In relation to the specific questions posed in the terms of reference given to Judge Rapke, Dr Mackay simply quoted from the report:
    Organised initiation ceremonies, a formal pattern of bastardisation, or any form of patterned violence or misbehaviour have never been a part of the programme, official or otherwise, at Leeuwin. The strict answer to the 2 questions which are contained in my terms of reference should therefore be no.17
    Having technically given Leeuwin a clean bill of health, the Minister then went on summarise the Judge’s views as to ‘the damaging effects of unorganised and repetitive acts of bullying, violence, degradation and petty crime when they occur’.18 In relation to the specific case of LJR Russell, the Minister described the judge’s view that the case ‘was unrelated to any organised violence. It is a case of a squabble over trifles getting out of hand and unexpectedly and unintentionally leading to disastrous results’.
    Dr Mackay made a very specific, favourable reference to the NOCWA Commodore Ramsay in saying:
    I believe the Commodore to be a dedicated and conscientious officer who has become a respected father figure in his command. That he has had to cope with a small minority of lads who have caused trouble is no fault of his and no more reflection on him than on the rest of the community. Every parent, every schoolmaster, indeed every responsible citizen shares his problems.19

    These comments reflect two important things. Firstly, that the relationship between Judge Rapke and the Commodore and his staff had been both business-like and minimal and that the Judge had, intentionally, talked mostly with those who considered themselves or their friends to have been treated harshly at Leeuwin and not to those in the Leeuwin command and training structure. Secondly, in the light of the Judge’s report, the Minister seems to have believed that Commodore Ramsay, and perhaps many others in the RAN, had been treated very unfairly by media commentary. It had prejudged and found them guilty on the basis of a relatively very small number of unsubstantiated complaints and the drawing of what turned out to be inappropriate parallels between the by-product of traditional, accepted practice at the Royal Military College Duntroon, the Army’s officer training establishment in Canberra, and the unorganised but repetitive acts of unacceptable behaviour by a relatively small number of bullies in Leeuwin.
    In extending his concern to ‘every parent, every schoolmaster, indeed every responsible citizen’, Judge Rapke was in effect saying that unlike Duntroon where the abuses arose from training activity conducted by senior cadets and accepted by at least some Duntroon staff members, the problems in Leeuwin were not endorsed by either the Navy or Leeuwin staff members. It arose from the behaviour of a small number of boys who, unfortunately, behaved as many boys do in the Australian community. In terms of the extent of the physical injury sustained by boys in Leeuwin the Minister said that of all the many cases of such injury reported in 1970, in a total population of 650 boys, only 22 could be attributed to fighting or bullying. He went on to say that this supported the initial assessment he gave in earlier statements that in terms of proportion the problem at Leeuwin was small.
    Throughout the Judge’s inquiry, media conduct had annoyed many Navy people, including junior recruits who believed that they and the Navy were being treated unfairly. The behaviour of some reporters certainly seems questionable. One radio reporter gained entry to Leeuwin by posing as a friend of Mrs Connolly. He was removed by the RAN only after other media representatives complained about his privileged but unauthorised access. Other media representatives are alleged to have approached junior recruits at a back fence of Leeuwin trying to induce them to talk. A statement published in a newspaper in early May 1971 attributed to Mrs Connolly and referring to junior recruits at Leeuwin as a pack of low homosexuals was particularly galling for them. In response, some junior recruits and their parents wrote to RAN authorities demanding that action be taken against the media in order to stop what they considered to be inaccurate and slanderous reporting. In Parliament, Dr Mackay made specific unfavourable reference to the behaviour of the media. Quoting Judge Rapke he referred to ‘the great spate of national publicity – invariably in condemnatory terms’.20 In reference to a particular piece of reporting, he added that:

    All in all it is illustrative of the bias against the good name of the Navy that marred so much of the journalistic contributions to the matters under investigation by me.21
    The Judge conducted his inquiry between March and July 1971. While he interviewed a large number of witnesses and received a great deal of input he simply did not have the time to investigate every allegation made to him nor to inquire into every facet of the junior recruit culture. He would have needed more months to do so and, by necessity, his report was therefore more in the nature of a ‘snapshot’ containing rapidly arrived at conclusions developed remote from Leeuwin itself.
    The parallels drawn between Leeuwin and Duntroon were neither accurate nor helpful and must have been a cause of considerable concern to the RAN. At Duntroon, Mister Justice Cox, a judge of the Supreme Court of the Australian Capital Territory, was appointed to lead an investigation into allegations of ill-treatment of the junior class of staff cadets in the course of their initiation into Army life. The Committee found that the Duntroon tradition of making its senior classes formally responsible, by means of a Corps of Staff Cadets Policy Directive, for certain aspects of the new cadets’ assimilation ‘has had as a by-product conduct by the senior classes towards the Fourth Class that latterly has become known as “bastardisation”’.22 The report also stated that ‘conduct which has come to be called “bastardisation” must be banned. It is senseless and degrading’.23
    While bullying and the exercise of informal power were found to be features of unacceptable behaviour at both establishments the conditions under which they occurred at Leeuwin were quite different. Where Duntroon had a history dating back to WWI, a reputation and a mystique, for some, as a ‘school for generals’ complete with traditions actively fostered by its alumni and the Army overall, Leeuwin did not. Most importantly, Leeuwin lacked the formal structure and tradition of senior cadets exercising authority over junior cadets, a system which Justice Cox described in his report as ‘fagging’. In Leeuwin, aberrant and violent behaviour, and abuse arose not from the behaviour of overall classes or entire intakes but the behaviour of a relatively minor number of individuals whose bullying, despite the efforts of staff, was not as well controlled as it should have been.
    In his address to Parliament the Minister stated that ‘never mind the sentimentality about boys will be boys … it will be contrary to the regulations of HMAS Leeuwin that there will be any initiation ceremonies of any kind’.24 While adding that ‘HMAS Leeuwin is devoted to producing a highly expert body of men and I believe that it is doing this in a highly expert way’.25 It seems that this statement virtually ended the matter. The RAN’s newspaper, Navy News, announced on 14 May 1971 that Junior Recruit Connolly had discharged from the Navy at the request of himself and his mother.26 No reference is made to either the Rapke Inquiry or any plans for acting on anything arising from it in ROPs submitted by Leeuwin’s CO post December 1971. Instead, junior recruit training seems to have continued as before, although it would be fair to assume that within

    Leeuwin’s command and training organisations there would have been acute sensitivity to the need to prevent any attempts by junior recruits to conduct initiation activities, and to prevent any perception of such things being permitted to occur.
    No more allegations were made of initiation ceremonies occurring among junior recruits before the training scheme ended in 1984. In 1979 an isolated case of bullying was responded to promptly by Leeuwin staff members with a formal report sent to Navy Headquarters.27 However, assertions that bullying did occur at Leeuwin have continued to be made by former junior recruits. Website accounts written by boys who had trained at Leeuwin before the Rapke Inquiry contain very blunt allegations of bullying by members of senior intakes. At least one ex-junior recruit has sought compensation through the Administrative Appeals Tribunal and the Military Rehabilitation and Compensation Commission for what his lawyer referred to as the ‘bastardisation’ he suffered as a junior recruit 1967 and 1968.28
    Overall, it would be fair to say that a usually under-strength and hard pressed Leeuwin staff did a reasonable job of maintaining discipline among the large numbers of teenage boys residing there at any time. Leeuwin had insufficient staff numbers to watch every boy every minute of the day, and it is likely that there was no desire to do so as that would not have created the environment in which the RAN endeavoured to prepare boys for later life at sea or in the much less restrictive environment of shore bases throughout Australia. The methods by which discipline was maintained in Leeuwin may seem harsh and horribly old-fashioned when viewed through more modern eyes. Existing in very close company in a very spartan and highly regulated environment, in which sport was the principal outlet, subject to a discipline regime designed to control adults in warships and subject to physical punishment for relatively minor misdemeanours, junior recruits were under constant pressure to comply and obey. It was certainly an environment in which boys either survived and became adults quickly or departed early.

    endnotes



    1      Open Sea: The Official Organ of the New South Wales Branch of the HMAS Tingira Old Boys Association, Vol 1, No 10, Dec 1966, p. 5.
    2      S Pope, Hornblower’s Navy: Life at Sea in the Age of Nelson, Orion Media, London, 1998, p. 52.
    3      Open Sea, Vol 4, No 1, Mar 1972, p. 21.

    4      Open Sea, Vol 4, No 1, p. 17.
    5      Open Sea, Vol 3, No 10, Dec 1971, p. 5.
    6      Australian Book of Reference (ABR) 697.
    7      ABR 697.
    8      ‘Editorial’, The Daily Mirror, 27 April 1971, Sydney, p. 1.
    9      M Mackay, Minister for the Navy’s Speech to Junior Recruits at HMAS Leeuwin, 21 May 1971, copy in possession of the author.
    10  Mackay, Minister for the Navy’s Speech to Junior Recruits at HMAS Leeuwin.
    11  Mackay, Minister for the Navy’s Speech to Junior Recruits at HMAS Leeuwin.
    12  House of Representatives Hansard, Volume II of R. 71 & 72, 16 Feb-6 May 1971, p. 2112.
    13  Australian Commonwealth Naval Board routine signal message, date time group R280729Z April 1971.
    14  House of Representatives Hansard, Volume II of R. 73, 74 & 75, 17 Aug-9 Dec 1971, p. 2675.
    15  National Archives of Australia (NAA), Statement of Reason Under Section 40 of the Archives Act, CRS A12433, dated 1 October 2002.
    16  House of Representatives Hansard, Volume II of R. 73, 74 & 75, 17 Aug-9 Dec 1971, .pp. 2674-2681.
    17  House of Representatives Hansard, Volume II of R. 73, 74 & 75, 17 Aug-9 Dec 1971, .pp. 2674-2681.
    18  House of Representatives Hansard, Volume II of R. 73, 74 & 75, 17 Aug-9 Dec 1971, .pp. 2674-2681.
    19  House of Representatives Hansard, Volume II of R. 73, 74 & 75, 17 Aug-9 Dec 1971, .pp. 2674-2681.
    20     House of Representatives Hansard, Volume II of R. 73, 74 & 75, 17 Aug-9 Dec 1971, .pp. 2674-2681.
    21  House of Representatives Hansard, Volume II of R. 73, 74 & 75, 17 Aug-9 Dec 1971, .pp. 2674-2681.
    22     A Peacock, Statement to the Parliament of Australia on the Report of the Committee of Enquiry into the Royal Military College Duntroon, 12 Jun 1970, p. A6.
    23     Peacock, Statement to the Parliament of Australia on the Report of the Committee of Enquiry into the Royal Military College Duntroon, p. 9.
    24     House of Representatives Hansard, Volume II of R. 73, 74 & 75, 17 Aug-9 Dec 1971, .pp. 2674-2681.
    25     House of Representatives Hansard, Volume II of R. 73, 74 & 75, 17 Aug-9 Dec 1971, p. 2680.
    26     Navy News, Vol 14, No 10, 14 May 1971.
    27     West Australia Report of Proceedings for the period Apr-Jun 1979, p. 2.
    28     ‘ F o r m e r S a i l o r Wi n s A b u s e Co m p e n s a t i o n ’ , < w w w. a b c . n e t . a u / n e w s / stories/2004/12/24/1272014.htm>, (December 2004).

    Commodore Percy inspecting the guard at Leeuwin, 1981 (RAN)


    the end of Boy Sailors


    In March 1984 the Chief of Naval Staff Advisory Committee considered a paper titled, Selection of Either HMAS Leeuwin or HMAS Cerberus as a Recruit Training Establishment either with or without Junior Recruit Training. This step was in order to address growing concerns about increasing costs and ongoing staffing difficulties, and to resolve the future of both the junior recruit entry scheme and Leeuwin as a naval base. Given that abolishing the adult entry was not an option, the paper focused heavily on establishing the relative costs of four other options: adult and junior recruit training at Leeuwin, adult and junior recruit training at Cerberus, adult recruiting training only in Leeuwin, and adult recruiting training only in Cerberus. The Committee decided that junior recruit training would cease and sought further advice on the relative costs of conducting adult training only in either Leeuwin or Cerberus. A 3 August 1984 Navy Headquarters signal advised that the ‘junior recruit entry into the Royal Australian Navy will be put in abeyance’.1 The signal added that ‘the need to make more effective use of manpower has resulted in this decision ... [and] ... adult recruit numbers will be increased as necessary’.2 The message concluded by saying that ‘the decision to put the JR entry into abeyance has been made with considerable regret’.3 The then Minister for Defence, Gordon Scholes, made a public announcement the same month stating that junior recruit training would end in December 1984. He added that the decision reflected ‘the Government’s insistence that the best use is made of the substantial funds allocated to Navy’.4
    It was neither a sudden nor unexpected decision. In early 1978, RAN work force planners had decided that it would be more cost effective to increase the numbers of adult recruits entering Cerberus and effect a corresponding reduction in the number of junior recruits entering Leeuwin. As a result, all intakes from April 1978 onwards consisted of, on average, about 60 junior recruits, the exceptions being two intakes of 120 boys in 1979 necessitated by a need to compensate for under achievement in adult recruiting. Fluctuations in adult recruiting and junior recruit intake strength worried Leeuwin’s commanders and posed a significant problem for its training staff because, as a consequence of the 1978 reductions in intake size, the ship’s company of Leeuwin was reduced rapidly from 274 to 199.
    The ‘need to make more effective use of manpower’ referred to in the Naval Headquarters message was simply another manifestation of the Navy’s perennial difficulties in attracting, recruiting and retaining and paying for sufficient numbers of sailors. The particular staffing difficulties prevailing in 1984 originated in action begun immediately after the Vietnam War when the government announced ‘manpower economies to achieve better balance in the force structure’.5 Compounding the problem for junior recruits was the fact that, as one naval historian has put it:

    Improving education standards and the requirement to ensure that training was relevant to contemporary society were also having an impact. Specifically, there was less need for the Navy to provide a secondary education.6
    A reduced need for the RAN to provide an academic education for its sailors struck at the heart of the junior recruit training scheme. If the RAN could recruit sufficient numbers of appropriately educated adults and train them in a 12-week course at Cerberus, it was very difficult to justify retention of the year-long and much more expensive scheme operated at Leeuwin.
    The decision to dispense with junior recruit entry had a mixed reception. It was a welcome decision for those who continued to hold concerns about the numbers of ‘ineffectives’ in Leeuwin, the perceived focus there on schoolwork to the detriment of professional training, immaturity in ship’s crews, junior recruit motivation and employment categorisation difficulties. Among recruiters the decision was a matter for professional concern. Against the simplicity of having to only recruit for the adult sailor entry was the fact that the boy sailor scheme was a very popular avenue of entry from 1960 to 1978. Even when RAN interest began to wane as adult recruit numbers grew, the boy sailor entry scheme remained popular with Australian boys and their parents. It was not essentially a problem of failing to meet boy entry recruiting targets; it was more a problem of Navy finding it easier to meet adult entry targets.
    Records show that while there was no widespread outcry over the decision to end the junior recruit scheme not everyone in the RAN believed it was for the better. Late in the 1970s, Leeuwin staff did try to argue against the proposal to close it down. However, their argument was based on a need to keep the boy entry going principally as a means of coping with under achievement in adult recruiting rather than an argument based on the junior recruit scheme’s intrinsic worth. Available records do not show whether an argument was ever constructed to retain the boy entry based on national value to Australian youth or on any specific contribution made to the Navy by it having a very youthful workforce. Indeed, it is not clear whether a high level attempt was ever made to determine whether or not the boy entry scheme had actually been successful in achieving the aims set in 1959 of graduating boys who would ‘regard the Navy as their vocation’ or in whom they had developed ‘a high standard of discipline, trustworthiness, initiative, courage and endurance’. The scheme ended as it began, amid concern over sailor numbers, and once that concern eased no consideration was given to the type of sailor the RAN needed, adult or boy. This is perhaps unfortunate as one observer stated:
    The ethos of the RAN came not so much from the citizen sailor, despite the remarkable contributions of Reservists and ‘Hostilities Only’ personnel during the major conflicts, but from the 13-year-old entry officers, by sailors of HMAS Tingira and the ‘twelve year engagement’ men.7

    The Leeuwin scheme enjoyed a very high level of support in the civilian community, particularly in the Fremantle and Perth region, whose citizens seemed to have felt a degree of ownership of it. Nationwide, hopes were dashed for young boys who yearned to leave school as soon as possible and join the RAN. For their parents it closed an avenue for their sons to enjoy Navy service away from the restrictions of home but in a controlled and disciplined environment in which the opportunity to study was ever-present. For many in the Fremantle area it was the end of another piece of their local naval history.
    Despite the perceived and real problems of the boy sailor entry scheme its reintroduction had the intended strategic effect of making the RAN more attractive to a large number of boys who otherwise may never have considered a naval career. Without the scheme the RAN’s acute staffing crisis would have continued for much longer as adult recruiting performance failed to meet demand. It is therefore questionable whether the Navy could have successfully introduced new submarines, the Perth class guided missile destroyers and maintained the Fleet Air Arm without the sudden influx of large numbers of boys through the junior recruit scheme.
    The annual graduation rate over the entire life of the junior recruit training scheme, including those who went to officer candidate and apprentice training, ranged from 68 per cent to 99 per cent while averaging 87 per cent. But there is little to be gained in comparing graduation rates of boys from Leeuwin with those of adults from the Cerberus recruit school because there were obviously great dissimilarities between the two courses. In an effort to persuade Navy Office to maintain high levels of junior recruit entries two comparisons were made in 1980 of male adult and junior recruit retention rates for the years 1960 to 1973. The first by Leeuwin staff members covered intakes in 1960 to 1962 while the second by Navy Office staff members covered the period from 1963 to 1973. The comparative figures suggest that the junior recruit scheme aim of producing sailors who regarded the Navy as their vocation seems to have been achieved to a reasonable degree, if retention rates can be taken as a measure of vocational orientation. As Table 3 shows, in all but one year junior recruit retention was higher than that of adults recruits, although it is clear that the differential narrowed markedly as the years went by.
    The aim of the junior recruit entry being a source of senior sailors and officers seems to have been achieved. Given the high retention rates of junior recruits until 1973 it is likely that a great many would have become senior sailors in at least the normal course of their sailor advancement processes, if not earlier because of the age and higher educational achievement. The aim of producing sailors who could make the often difficult transition to officer also seems to have been achieved. In 1972 for example, of the 27 matriculants who entered the RANC nine were graduates of the Leeuwin officer candidate course. As outlined in the Appendix, between 1964 and 1984, at least 255 boys, 2 per cent of Leeuwin graduates, were transferred to officer candidate training.

    Year

    Junior Recruits Entered

    Male Adults Entered

    Percentage of junior recruit entrants still serving on

    30 April 1980

    Percentage  of adult entrants still serving on

    30 April 1980

    Jul to  Dec

    1960

    155

    366

    29.6

    15

    Jan to  Jul

    1961

    145

    593

    30.3

    15.6

    Jul to  Dec

    1961

    161

    444

    19.2

    14.8

    Jan to Jun

    1962

    155

    560

    32.9

    17.6

    July to Dec 1962

    160

    335

    39.3

    17

    1963

    508

    973

    36.6

    20.5

    1964

    606

    1002

    30.2

    19.6

    1965

    616

    987

    31.9

    16.7

    1966

    618

    1040

    31.7

    20.1

    1967

    620

    1037

    31.7

    14.5

    1968

    630

    918

    37.5

    23.2

    1969

    630

    759

    42.1

    36.8

    1970

    771

    775

    40.1

    41.7

    1971

    788

    671

    44.2

    36.4

    1972

    777

    677

    50.1

    42.1

    1973

    799

    659

    46.8

    76.5


    Table 3: Retention Rates of Junior Recruit Entrants and Adult Entrants


    In addition to these boys, many ex-junior recruits went on to become officers later in their careers through the Special Duties List, the Warrant Officer Entry Scheme and the New Entry Officer Scheme. By 2001, three former junior recruits had reached the rank of commodore, and of these two were later promoted to the rank of rear admiral. One of them, Russell Crane, a member of the 32nd intake entered on 15 July 1970, was promoted to Vice Admiral and appointed Chief of Navy in July 2008, a unique and remarkable achievement.
    Measuring the contribution junior recruits would certainly have made to improving the Navy’s capacity to use new technology is very difficult. As the Appendix shows, between 1964 and 1984 at least 299 boys, about 3 per cent of all graduates, left Leeuwin either before or upon graduation to undertake apprentice training at Nirimba. This ‘internal recruiting’ no doubt boosted the numbers of highly trained technical senior sailors in the Navy but, as some have argued, at the expense of increasing the technical capacities of the Navy’s junior sailor workforce.

    Vice Admiral Russ Crane on his promotion to Chief of Navy with Chief of Defence Force Air Chief Marshall Angus Houston in 2008.
    Vice Admiral Crane’s naval career began in 1970 as a junior recruit of Leeuwin’s 32nd intake (Defence)

    As difficult as it was, abolition of the junior recruit entry was an easier decision for the Navy to make than that of deciding whether to consolidate all recruit training at either Cerberus or Leeuwin. Naval history, local, state and federal politics, the cost effectiveness of concentrating most sailor training in Cerberus, and the build up of naval assets at Garden Island in Western Australia were prominent among the very many factors that the Navy’s leadership had to balance. While calls were made in Western Australia to retain junior recruits at Leeuwin they seem to have been fairly muted, probably because the Navy was already embarked on a process of transferring about half of the Navy’s combat capability from the east to the west coast of Australia. Eventually, all the Navy’s submarines along with half the Anzac and Adelaide classes of frigate, ordnance resupply and fuelling facilities and numerous lesser support functions would be based in Stirling on Garden Island where junior recruits once visited irregularly for OXPs. In these circumstances it would have been very difficult indeed to argue that Western Australia was receiving less than its fair share of Defence dollars.

    Lowering the White Ensign at Leeuwin on 11 November 1986 by Recruit WRAN Andrea Garvey (RAN)

    The final passing out parade for Leeuwin junior recruits occurred held on 4 December 1984 when 37 boys of the 86th intake of junior recruits graduated. The reviewing officer was Rear Admiral William Crossley, Chief of Naval Personnel, who, having joined the Navy as a sailor in 1954, had the distinction of being the first man to rise through the sailor ranks to become an officer and achieve flag rank.
    Leeuwin was decommissioned as a naval base on 11 November 1986 but it has continued to play a role in what has become a large Defence presence in Western Australia. With the handing over at a final Navy parade of a symbolic key by Commodore Malcolm R Baird, the then NOCWA, to Colonel A Barsch, the base became Leeuwin Barracks under Defence control. However, Navy’s presence in the Barracks continued in the form of the Fremantle Port Division of the Royal Australian Navy Reserve and various administrative staff. The wharves and boatshed remained under Navy control in order to accommodate Reserve support craft based there.

    recruiting of Minors


    From the earliest days of WWI and the Tingira scheme the Navy deployed boys to war. The last WWI deployment occurred:
    On 17th July, 1918, the last wartime draft for overseas service from Tingira embarked on the troopship Borda for England for distribution to HMAS Australia, Melbourne and Sydney. This draft totalled 50 Boys, of whom 31 were 15 years old, 14 were 16 years old.8
    Boys entering the Navy in the 1960s experienced similar treatment. Many 15-year-old boys who entered the Navy in the 14th intake and subsequent junior recruit intakes into the early 1970s qualified for war service as 17-year-old boy ordinary seamen and midshipmen in the troop transport Sydney. A much smaller number of boys served as 17-year-olds in Vietnam in the guided missile destroyers HMA Ships Perth, Hobart and Brisbane and the destroyer HMAS Vendetta.
    Australia’s freedom to employ boys on operations ceased on 20 October 2002 when the Australian Ambassador to the United Nations signed the Optional Protocol to the Convention on the Rights of the Child on the Involvement of Children in Armed Conflict. As a signatory to the Protocol Australia agreed to abide by a new standard which set a minimum age of 18 for participation in hostilities and a voluntary minimum age of 16 for recruitment into the Australian Defence Force (ADF). However, the ADF observes a minimum recruitment age of 17 except for ‘military schools’ that are defined as places where military personnel receive instruction. This exemption permits the recruitment of 16-year-olds to study in military schools but not for participation in hostilities.
    The 1984 Sex Discrimination Act led to the abolition of the WRANS as a separate entity and the establishment of a liability for Navy women for sea service. Women also soon began to undertake the same adult recruit training course in Cerberus as their male

    colleagues. An interesting hypothetical question therefore is whether the Navy would have recruited girls via the junior recruit entry avenue had the scheme continued. Given the numbers of females who now enter the RAN it is possible that it may have been very attractive to many Australian girls. Whether it would have been as attractive for their parents is doubtful. As experience post-1984 showed, the Navy experienced considerable difficulty integrating adult women into the seagoing workforce in a manner that was fair, safe and effective. Integrating girls into the same environment would have constituted a far bigger challenge.

    endnotes



    1      Department of Defence (Navy Office) routine signal message 416 All Ship/414 All Shore dated 3 Aug 1984.
    2      Department of Defence (Navy Office) routine signal message 416 All Ship/414 All Shore dated 3 Aug 1984.
    3      Department of Defence (Navy Office) routine signal message 416 All Ship/414 All Shore dated 3 Aug 1984.
    4      ‘Leeuwin: JR Training to Cease’, Navy News, Vol 27, No 15, 10 Aug 1984, p. 3.
    5      D Stevens (ed), The Royal Australian Navy, Oxford University Press, Melbourne, Australia, 2001, p. 223.
    6      Stevens, The Royal Australian Navy, p. 224.
    7      T Frame, J Goldrick and P Jones, Reflections on the Royal Australian Navy, Kangaroo Press, Sydney, New South Wales, 1991, p. 7.
    8      Open Sea: Official Organ of the New South Wales Branch of the HMAS Tingira Old Boys Association, Vol 3, No 8, Jun 1971, p. 11.


    junior recruits today


    The junior recruit training scheme began and ended within living memory. The oldest former junior recruit will only be 67 on the 50th anniversary of the scheme’s commencement in July 2010, while the large majority of boys who joined via the scheme are still alive. Many are still serving in the ADF and many will continue to do so until 2024 when the youngest member of the final intake, the 86th, would have completed 40 years of military service and be 55-years-old. However, given that the compulsory retirement age of the ADF has been increased from 55 to 60 and it employs reservists until the age of 65, it is possible that former junior recruits may still be serving until about 2034.
    To match the enduring interest in Tingira and its boy sailors the last two decades have seen a burgeoning interest shown in the history of the junior recruits of Leeuwin and Cerberus. This probably reflects an upsurge in community interest in all things military, arising in part from the high level of operational deployment of Australian armed forces since 1999. It is highly likely that it also represents the interest of former junior recruits born between 1946 and 1964 seeking to have their place recognised in Australian naval history. This is not to say that those born afterwards have less interest in their junior recruit roots, it simply reflects the fact that the majority of junior recruits are ‘baby boomers’ who, as in many other areas of the Australian community, are active in recording and seeking recognition of their contribution.
    Few former junior recruits believe that their training or experience made them intrinsically better sailors than their adult entry colleagues. And they would have no reason to do so because, as discussed previously, all sailor entrants did virtually the same training curriculum albeit in different geographical sites over different time periods. After former junior and adult recruits had completed their category training and had an initial sea posting there was little to differentiate between them, and the RAN did not seek to do so. The single thing that junior recruits would argue makes them different is that they signed on for 12 years at a younger age and served at sea as minors in the very adult environment of warships, many on active service.
    Some former junior recruits have very mixed feelings about having signed on as a boy for 12 years in the RAN. While immensely proud of having joined and served their country it is not uncommon to hear expressions of regret about having made a commitment while so young and, in doing so, foregoing other career options that might have suited them better in the long run. Extreme manifestations of this view produce accusations that ‘the Navy stole my youth’ but in reality there was no compunction to join, the scheme was entirely voluntary and very popular with boys and their parents, to the extent that for most of the scheme’s existence the RAN could afford to be quite selective about who could join and who could not. For better or worse, it was the boys and their parents who made the decision; the RAN was simply a very willing beneficiary at a

    time in Australian history when early commitment to a life long career was commonplace. Paradoxically, regret over the decision to join so young and forego other opportunities often co-exists with a strong sense of pride in actually having joined and served. Many consider that their exposure to an adult environment, being forced to sever some family bonds very early and to accept responsibility for themselves gave them a head start in life overall and in the RAN. Many attribute achievements, such as early promotion to higher sailor rank, grasping the many opportunities for education and training the Navy offered, transferring to officer training and experiencing at a young age things that many other young Australians would never have the opportunity to do, to their training at Leeuwin or Cerberus.
    Where ex-sailors will identify themselves in relation to a particular employment branch or category within the RAN, a rank or to membership of a particular ship’s company, junior recruits identify themselves as members of a particular intake and whether that intake passed through Leeuwin or Cerberus. The experience of living together as an intake for a year, starting as ‘new grubs’ and progressing through the informal junior recruit seniority system reinforced intake identity. Doing so in close company, in a challenging training environment helped forge strong, life long bonds of friendship among many junior recruits. The intake orientation endures today. Reunion organisations based on intake are growing in number and activity. Websites are used to document a very active program of reunions around the country. It is not unusual for former junior recruits residing overseas to return for reunions that include social and sporting activities, ship tours as well as viewings of junior recruit memorabilia and parades. A noteworthy feature of these reunions is their inclusiveness, with sailors who exited the RAN during their time at Leeuwin attending along with their colleagues who served for up to 40 years. The shared experience of junior recruit training is the enduring bonding factor. In the words of Vice Admiral Crane:
    The two guys that I bunked with in 1970, when I first arrived at Leeuwin, because we were allocated bunks alphabetically, according to our initials, are my two closest friends today – Russ Crawford and Russ Cronin. So there are relationships that endure forever. It’s that sort of environment.1
    In 2007 a number of former junior recruits banded together and tasked themselves with establishing a memorial to all who joined as boy sailors through Leeuwin and Cerberus at the ceremonial entrance of Leeuwin. When established it will be a counterpart to the memorial unveiled on 1 September 1977 at the corner of New South Head Road and Vickery Avenue, Rose Bay, to commemorate the boys who trained in Tingira from 1912 to 1926. Unveiling of the modern memorial will occur on the 50th anniversary of the commencement of the junior recruit training scheme at Leeuwin. A program of other commemorative and celebratory events is being planned to occur in conjunction with unveiling of the memorial.

    junior recruitS toDAy

    endnotes



    1      Russell Crane, ‘If I Could Get Back to Sea, I Would – in a Heartbeat’, Sun Herald, Fairfax Media, Sydney, 9 Nov 2008.


    Appendix

    royal Australian navy junior recruit intake 1960-1984

    Intake Number

    Date of Entry

    Date of Graduation

    Number of Boys Entered

    (see note 1)

    Total Number Graduated

    (see note 2)

    % Pass Rate (see note 3)

    To Officer Training

    To Apprentice

    Training

    Leeuwin

    1

    13 Jul 1960

    16 Jun 1961

    155

    142

    92%

    not applicable (n/a)

    (see note 4)

    2

    10 Jan 1961

    13 Dec 1961

    151

    142

    94%

    n/a

    3

    12 Jul 1961

    15 Jun 1962

    155

    143

    92%

    n/a

    4

    7 Jan 1962

    12 Dec 1962

    154

    134

    87%

    n/a

    5

    11 Jul 1962

    12 Jun 1963

    179

    142

    79%

    n/a

    6

    9 Jan 1963

    11 Dec 1963

    180

    162

    90%

    7

    10 Jul 1963

    10 Jun 1964

    201

    187

    93%

    8

    8 Jan 1964

    9 Dec 1964

    205

    162

    79%

    19 topmen

    (see note 5)

    9

    8 Jul 1964

    9 Jun 1965

    201

    181

    90%

    (see note 6)

    10

    6 Jan 1965

    8 Dec 1965

    204

    175

    86%

    15 topmen

    (see note 7)

    11

    7 Apr 1965

    30 Mar 1966

    102

    86

    84%

    12

    14 Jul 1965

    8 Jun 1966

    204

    182

    89%

    13

    13 Oct 1965

    4 Oct 1966

    104

    89

    86%

    14

    5 Jan 1966

    7 Dec 1966

    203

    177

    87%

    15 (see note 8)

    15

    6 Apr 1966

    29 Mar 1967

    104

    92

    88%



    Intake Number

    Date of Entry

    Date of Graduation

    Number of Boys Entered

    (see note 1)

    Total Number Graduated

    (see note 2)

    % Pass Rate (see note 3)

    To Officer Training

    To Apprentice

    Training

    16

    13 Jul 1966

    7 Jun 1967

    207

    194

    94%

    17

    12 Oct 1966

    3 Oct 1967

    104

    89

    86%

    18

    2 Jan 1967

    6 Dec 1967

    207

    189

    91%

    21 (see note 9)

    19

    5 Apr 1967

    27 Mar 1968

    105

    82

    78%

    20

    12 Jul 1967

    4 Jun 1968

    208

    179

    86%

    21

    11 Oct 1967

    2 Oct 1968

    100

    83

    83%

    22

    3 Jan 1968

    11 Dec 1968

    209

    201

    96%

    23

    3 Apr 1968

    25 Mar 1969

    110

    86

    78%

    9

    2

    24

    10 Jul 1968

    10 Jun 1969

    210

    197

    94%

    25

    9 Oct 1968

    23 Sep 1969

    100

    76

    76%

    9

    7

    26

    8 Jan 1969

    9 Dec 1969

    200

    181

    91%

    7

    5

    27

    9 Apr 1969

    24 Mar 1970

    110

    97

    88%

    4

    1

    28

    16 Jul 1969

    9 Jun 1970

    210

    168

    80%

    4

    9

    29

    15 Oct 1969

    22 Sep 1970

    110

    87

    79%

    3

    7

    30

    7 Jan 1970

    8 Dec 1970

    252

    193

    77%

    11

    17

    31

    15 Apr 1970

    23 Mar 1971

    183

    140

    77%

    3

    7

    32

    15 Jul 1970

    8 Jun 1971

    191

    140

    73%

    8

    1

    33

    13 Oct 1970

    21 Sep 1971

    145

    103

    71%

    3

    7

    34

    6 Jan 1971

    7 Dec 1971

    250

    175

    70%

    11

    15

    35

    13 Apr 1971

    21 Mar 1972

    209

    142

    68%

    8

    4

    36

    14 Jul 1971

    6 Jun 1972

    192

    153

    80%

    2

    7

    37

    16 Oct 1971

    19 Sep 1972

    129

    95

    74%

    3

    8

    38

    3 Jan 1972

    12 Dec 1972

    207

    167

    81%

    6

    8



    Intake Number

    Date of Entry

    Date of Graduation

    Number of Boys Entered

    (see note 1)

    Total Number

    Graduated (see note 2)

    % Pass Rate (see note 3)

    To Officer Training

    To Apprentice

    Training

    39

    10 Apr 1972

    27 Mar 1973

    189

    158

    84%

    3

    6

    40

    10 Jul 1972

    12 Jun 1973

    196

    157

    80%

    0

    5

    41

    9 Oct 1972

    25 Sep 1973

    188

    135

    72%

    4

    6

    42

    10 Jan 1973

    11 Dec 1973

    254

    205

    81%

    10

    9

    43

    16 Apr 1973

    26 Mar 1974

    200

    176

    88%

    1

    1

    44

    16 Jul 1973

    11 Jun 1974

    224

    178

    79%

    3

    9

    45

    15 Oct 1973

    24 Sep 1974

    100

    86

    86%

    3

    0

    46

    2 Jan 1974

    10 Dec 1974

    190

    164

    86%

    10

    3

    47

    22 Apr 1974

    25 Mar 1975

    163

    128

    79%

    3

    5

    48

    15 Jul 1974

    10 Jun 1975

    142

    121

    85%

    0

    0

    49

    14 Oct 1974

    23 Sep 1975

    151

    117

    77%

    2

    5

    50

    8 Jan 1975

    9 Dec 1975

    276

    229

    83%

    7

    13

    51

    1 Apr 1975

    23 Mar 1976

    172

    119

    69%

    5

    7

    52

    14 Jul 1975

    8 Jun 1976

    215

    188

    87%

    4

    4

    53

    13 Oct 1975

    21 Sep 1976

    143

    113

    79%

    4

    4

    54

    7 Jan 1976

    7 Dec 1976

    252

    211

    84%

    7

    1

    55

    20 Apr 1976

    22 Mar 1977

    188

    131

    70%

    1

    17

    56

    14 Jul 1976

    7 Jun 1977

    197

    168

    85%

    0

    5

    57

    11 Oct 1976

    20 Sep 1977

    164

    131

    80%

    2

    3

    58

    3 Jan 1977

    13 Dec 1977

    260

    207

    80%

    6

    3

    59

    12 Apr 1977

    21 Mar 1978

    205

    145

    71%

    3

    14

    60

    11 Jul 1977

    6 Jun 1978

    173

    142

    82%

    0

    5

    61

    11 Oct 1977

    6 Jun 1978

    120

    99

    83%

    0

    0



    Intake Number

    Date of Entry

    Date of Graduation

    Number of Boys Entered

    (see note 1)

    Total Number Graduated

    (see note 2)

    % Pass Rate (see note 3)

    To Officer Training

    To Apprentice

    Training

    62

    11 Jan 1978

    19 Sep 1978

    120

    96

    80%

    3

    6

    63

    10 Apr 1978

    12 Dec 1978

    60

    53

    88%

    1

    7

    64

    10 Jul 1978

    20 Mar 1979

    61

    54

    89%

    1

    3

    65

    10 Oct 1978

    12 Jun 1979

    90

    79

    88%

    0

    3

    66

    10 Jan 1979

    18 Sep 1979

    120

    107

    89%

    2

    7

    67

    9 Apr 1979

    11 Dec 1979

    120

    104

    87%

    0

    4

    68

    15 Jul 1979

    18 Mar 1980

    60

    52

    87%

    0

    3

    69

    9 Oct 1979

    10 Jun 1980

    60

    57

    95%

    0

    0

    70

    9 Jan 1980

    16 Sep 1980

    60

    51

    85%

    1

    3

    71

    8 Apr 1980

    9 Dec 1980

    60

    54

    90%

    0

    0

    72

    14 Jul 1980

    9 Mar 1981

    60

    57

    95%

    0

    0

    73

    1 Oct 1980

    9 Jun 1981

    60

    57

    95%

    1

    4

    74

    7 Jan 1981

    15 Sep 1981

    60

    48

    80%

    1

    3

    75

    7 Apr 1981

    8 Dec 1981

    60

    52

    87%

    1

    0

    76

    14 Jul 1981

    16 Mar 1982

    80

    66

    83%

    0

    5

    77

    1 Oct 1981

    9 Jun 1982

    80

    67

    84%

    2

    6

    78

    1 Jan 1982

    14 Sep 1982

    90

    80

    89%

    2

    4

    79

    14 Apr 1982

    7 Dec 1982

    90

    80

    89%

    1

    0

    80

    12 Jul 1982

    15 Mar 1983

    90

    83

    92%

    0

    2

    81

    6 Oct 1982

    8 Jun 1983

    90

    76

    84%

    0

    1

    82

    4 Jan 1983

    20 Sep 1983

    71

    61

    86%

    0

    5

    83

    6 Apr 1983

    6 Dec 1983

    70

    66

    94%

    0

    0

    84

    5 Jul 1983

    13 Mar 1984

    71

    60

    85%

    0

    1



    Intake Number

    Date of Entry

    Date of Graduation

    Number of Boys Entered

    (see note 1)

    Total Number Graduated

    (see note 2)

    % Pass Rate (see note 3)

    To Officer Training

    To Apprentice

    Training

    85

    10 Jan 1984

    18 Sep 1984

    40

    36

    90%

    0

    2

    86

    3 Apr 1984

    4 Dec 1984

    40

    37

    93%

    0

    0

    Cerberus

    1

    17 Mar 1963

    26 Mar 1964

    125

    123

    98%

    2

    6 Apr 1964

    1 Mar 1965

    200

    198

    99%

    Overall Totals

    -

    -

    13000

    10875

    84%

    255

    299

    notes:


    • The ‘Numbers of Boys Entered’ are derived from HMAS Leeuwin Reports of Proceedings (ROPs). However, these documents do not record numbers entered for intakes 3, 6, 22 and 24. These numbers were derived from Navy recruiting intake lists and unofficial class lists.
    • The ‘Total Number Graduated’ entries are derived from HMAS Leeuwin ROPs. However, these documents do not record numbers for intakes 1 to 4, 9 and 10, 12, 14, 16 to 19, 21 and 22 and 24. These numbers were derived from passing out parade handbooks.
    • The ‘% Pass Rate’ does not include the numbers of junior recruits selected for officer candidate and apprentice training. Inclusion of these numbers increases the pass rate to 87%.
    • The Topmen training scheme was introduced in January 1963.
    • This number is that mentioned in the HMAS Leeuwin ROP for the period 1 January to 31 March 1964.
    • The first transfer of boys from junior recruit training to apprentice training occurred in 1964.
    • This number is that mentioned in the HMAS Leeuwin ROP for the period 1 January to 31 March 1965.
    • This is the number of Topmen shown in the Topmen Division photograph in the 14th Intake passing out parade book, December 1966.
    • This is the number of Topmen shown in the Topmen Division photograph in the 18th Intake passing out parade book, December 1967.



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  • to promote understanding of sea power and its application to the security of Australia’s national interests
  • • to manage the development of RAN doctrine and facilitate its incorporation into ADF joint doctrine
  • • to contribute to regional engagement
  • • within the higher Defence organisation, contribute to the development of maritime strategic concepts and strategic and operational level doctrine, and facilitate informed force structure decisions
  • • to preserve, develop, and promote Australian naval history.
  • A Suitable in all respects – of high intelligence and shows scholastic promise.
  • B Suitable in all respects – should be capable of handling any of the technical training courses.
  • C Considered suitable but could have difficulty in coping with training in some of the more academically demanding rates, e.g. the Electrical branch.
  • D Borderline. Has a weakness or weaknesses which make him a risk for selection, e.g. A candidate with good abilities, but a long history of under performance in his school grades.
  • E To be deferred for a specified period. Suitable in most respects but has a handicap which precludes selection at the moment. Includes:
  • (i) A language handicap which may yield to further practice in English.
  • (ii) An educational deficiency which could be overcome by private study if the candidate is prepared to make the effort.
  • (iii) A very superficial interest in the service. Considered too naïve and uniformed, at present, to make a sound vocational choice. Highly likely to request withdrawal.
  • (iv) An applicant who is likely to be required at home, e.g. only son, whose elderly father owns a small farm employing no other labour, who has failed to discuss this problem with his parents.
  • F Obviously unsuitable. This applicant:
  • (i) has such severe educational handicaps or is of such low endowment as to be considered incapable of rendering satisfactory service in any capacity whether as a junior recruit or an … [adult] … entry.
  • (ii) Is considered unlikely to make a satisfactory adjustment to community life in a service environment. Includes those with a history of conflict with superiors, incorrigible truants and those with delinquent tendencies.
  • (a) Care is to be taken that by precept and practice junior recruits are convinced that justice is being administered with utmost care and that punishments are only inflicted when they are thoroughly deserved. The root of all discipline, especially in young minds, lies in the feeling of confidence in those who have authority.
  • (b) All offences and complaints are to be investigated in accordance with Royal Australian Navy Regulations and Instructions.
  • (c) Punishments are only to be awarded by authorised officers.
  • 1. The ‘Numbers of Boys Entered’ are derived from HMAS Leeuwin Reports of Proceedings (ROPs). However, these documents do not record numbers entered for intakes 3, 6, 22 and 24. These numbers were derived from Navy recruiting intake lists and unofficial class lists.
  • 2. The ‘Total Number Graduated’ entries are derived from HMAS Leeuwin ROPs. However, these documents do not record numbers for intakes 1 to 4, 9 and 10, 12, 14, 16 to 19, 21 and 22 and 24. These numbers were derived from passing out parade handbooks.
  • 3. The ‘% Pass Rate’ does not include the numbers of junior recruits selected for officer candidate and apprentice training. Inclusion of these numbers increases the pass rate to 87%.
  • 4. The Topmen training scheme was introduced in January 1963.
  • 5. This number is that mentioned in the HMAS Leeuwin ROP for the period 1 January to 31 March 1964.
  • 6. The first transfer of boys from junior recruit training to apprentice training occurred in 1964.
  • 7. This number is that mentioned in the HMAS Leeuwin ROP for the period 1 January to 31 March 1965.
  • 8. This is the number of Topmen shown in the Topmen Division photograph in the 14th Intake passing out parade book, December 1966.
  • 9. This is the number of Topmen shown in the Topmen Division photograph in the 18th Intake passing out parade book, December 1967.