by James Jinks
Wardroom. Time for a huge, fried farewell breakfast from the Galley. Nick Brooks, the Chief Engineer, kindly comes in to tell me that West Ham beat Brighton 6–0 yesterday afternoon while we were preoccupied with the Kilbrannan Sound canyon. The internet brings in the football results and the news summaries for the boat.
0712Z
The crew stands by to surface. There is a thump as the air goes into the ballast tanks.
0728Z
I’m on the fin of Tireless. Griffiths lights up a cigarette. It’s a beautiful, exquisitely bright morning off Arran, the air chilly but delectable. We’re moving gently at 3.5 knots in a calm sea and pointing towards the Cumbrae Gap on the Firth of Clyde between the Isle of Bute and the Ayrshire mainland. To the left are Goat Fell and the mountains of Arran in silhouette.
There is an outburst of camaraderie as the weekenders take their leave of Griffiths and Tireless before transferring to the Eva, a fast craft which sweeps us off towards the Cumbrae Gap, the Gareloch and Faslane at 23 knots (which has to come down to 7 knots before we creep past Helensburgh to avoid swamping the yachts). As Eva approaches Faslane, the MOD Police launch comes alongside and puts a man aboard to check our passes.
Faslane is bright in the sun with the huge grey shape of HMS Bulwark ready to take part, as is Tireless, in the next phase of the NATO exercise ‘Joint Warrior’ off the northwest of Scotland. Up against the wall is HMS Turbulent, which five days ago took over from Tireless as the boat at a high state of readiness to protect the deterrent and the UK generally. Ramsey, her former CO, gazes at her like a lover. Turbulent, nearly thirty years old, has but three months to go before her decommissioning ceremony, whereupon Tireless will become the old lady of the surviving ‘Trafalgar’ class. HMS Vanguard is in Faslane, berthed alongside the huge ship lift, and will relieve HMS Victorious when she returns from patrol. The mountains above Arrochar, unlike Victorious, look benign today.
Afterwards
Three of the four 2012 Perishers passed: Chris Gill, Sam Owen and Neil Botting. Andy Reeves did not. He left the boat on the penultimate day. I was saddened to hear this, but Reeves has great qualities and will do good things. Who made it and who did not was, I suspect, around the Submarine Service in a flash, probably even before Teacher and his successful students sat down for the legendary Perisher Breakfast when Tireless returned to Faslane.
I left the course before witnessing any of the above. However, the following year, in October 2013, Jinks and I boarded another ‘Trafalgar’ class submarine, HMS Triumph, to witness another group of Perisher students, Lieutenant Commander Louis Bull, Lieutenant Commander Ian Ferguson, Lieutenant Commander David Burrill and Lieutenant Commander Ben Haskins, complete the final days of the course under Teacher, Ramsey. They and their predecessor cohort presided over a slightly different course from the one played out on HMS Tireless in 2012. After witnessing the 2012 sequence first hand, Ramsey, Captain Halton and Rear Admiral Corder felt that parts of the course needed to better reflect the world that the Submarine Service had been operating within over the past few years and was likely to do over the decades to come. The course continues to evolve, but its core principles remain the same.
HMS TRIUMPH, 19 OCTOBER 2013
0725Z
Triumph’s CO, Commander Dan Clarke, greets us warmly on the casing. Down into the bright friendly snug of the Wardroom. The steward has hot tea in our hands in thirty seconds. A record in the competitive hospitality stakes. Bacon and sausage butties swiftly follow. The Submarine Service specializes in comfort-food welcomes. It’s plain this is going to be quite a final day. The Perishers are about to have the lot thrown at them and they are very, very tired. They have not slept for more than four hours at a stretch for three and a half weeks. However fierce the malign, multiple combinations that are about to assail them, the surviving four will have to convince Admiral Matt Parr, Commander Operations, Northwood; Captain Chris Groves, Captain Flag Officer Sea Training; and Ramsey that they have the poise and judgement under pressure to balance effectiveness of mission with the safety of the boat. It’s a question of cope or fail. They can be removed right up to the last minutes. Every Perisher, with just under twelve hours to go, knows that.
The last few days have been stretching. Commander Sarah West on HMS Portland, a Type 23 frigate, has been particularly relentless and resourceful and she’s up there lurking – a brilliant adversary whose tactics are difficult even for the old sweats on Triumph to read. At one point during the previous weekend, Triumph came up to periscope depth to find Portland close by. Ramsey instantly took over from the Perisher in the Captain’s chair and put the boat into a steep dive.
Triumph is about to participate in yet another ‘Joint Warrior’ NATO exercise involving numerous warships, aircraft, marines and troops. For this particular exercise the UK and Ireland have been turned into something called the ‘Wallian Archipelago’ and the waters of the west of Scotland into the equivalent of a Middle Eastern flashpoint. The cause of the flashing, as it were, is a country called Pastonia whose borders are largely, though not wholly, coterminous with those of Scotland (running across from south of Ayr in the west to south of Berwick-upon-Tweed in the east). To the south of Pastonia lies Dragonia (whose state line runs from just north of St David’s in West Wales to near Grimsby on the North Sea coast). To the south of Dragonia is Avalonia. Ireland, north and south combined, is called Ryania (whether after the airline or the Teacher is unknown).
The NATO countries (continental Western Europe) are deeply worried by the civil war in Pastonia and its consequences for the non-NATO Wallian Archipelago in general. Pastonia is breaking up into two: territory controlled by the Government of Pastonia, the GOP (based in Glasgow), and the far Left Peoples’ Republic of Pastonia, the PRP (headquartered in Edinburgh). At one point in the exercise, Edinburgh Castle, the PRP’s Ministry of Defence, is destroyed by a cruise missile launched from HMS Triumph under the waters between the Isle of Skye and southwest to the south of the Little Minch. The GOP remains the internationally recognized authority in Pastonia. The PRP is actively trying to destabilize Dragonia, its neighbour to the south, through funding and supporting the Free Dragonian Brotherhood, which is a far-left-wing terrorist group active throughout the Wallian Archipelago. At the very centre of the Pastonian civil war are Skye, the other Western Isles and the Isles of Arran and Cumbrae. The Free Dragonian Brotherhood has terrorist groups in the area as well.
0810
The crew are wholly at ease with the ‘Wallian Archipelago’ scenario and talk about it during the day. ‘The shape of the North Channel is very similar to the Straits of Hormuz,’ says one of Triumph’s officers.
The tasks will unfold like this: From now until about 1130, Triumph will concentrate on the two Cumbrae Islands and Kilchattan Bay on the Isle of Bute, surveilling possible beach landing sites for Special Forces, detecting surface-to-air missile launch sites and taking a look at what intelligence indicates is a ‘nest of terrorists’ on Little Cumbrae. The frigates and the Merlin helicopters will be giving them a hard time throughout.
Between noon and 1430, Triumph will concentrate on Brodick Bay in the middle of Arran’s east coast. Intelligence suggests there may be a dirty bomb factory on the outskirts of Brodick and that a shipment of WMD might be about to leave from Brodick (the real-life ferry from Brodick to Ardrossan, unknown to its serene autumn Saturday afternoon passengers, will simulate this – though, no doubt, they will wonder why two Type 23 frigates are racing around).
Between 1500 and 1800, concentration will switch to Lamlash Harbour to the south of Brodick, where intelligence suggests there are WMD sites and military raiders which may need to be taken out by Special Forces or cruise missiles.
Intelligence also suggests that leading Free Dragonian Brotherhood terrorists are active in these installations or close by. Each has a code name: ‘Selector 1’, ‘Selector 2’ and so on.
The Perishers know that, in addition to their executing these tasks (of
which they have notice and for which they will have prepared), Teacher will throw in reams of the unexpected.
Earlier in the week Ramsey had built in an episode which the crew were still talking about. A young sailor had been chosen for his acting gifts and secretly primed that, at a certain time, he must throw a wobbler and take a hostage on the boat. And one of the Perishers would have to negotiate with him while the rest of the boat carried out their tasks as best they could. The young sailor locked himself into the Wireless Telegraphy Room, taking one of the W/T operators hostage. Then he threatened to wreck the equipment with a wrench. He broadcast music over the submarine’s internal speakers. He insisted on ice-cream all round for the crew. He demanded (and succeeded) in getting a line through to his mum’s phone. Mum was naturally hugely surprised and not a tad alarmed at hearing her boy was under water and in a bit of trouble. It took an hour and a half to talk him down and out of the W/T Room. By general agreement, he deserved an Oscar. His legend will live on in the accumulated Perisher ‘dits’.
There are careers ahead which will see those who succeed on Perisher today through to retirement. These will be the Captains of the Royal Navy’s latest nuclear submarines, the ‘Astute’ class (they will hear the boat to which they are to be assigned this evening). And the pressure is continuing to pile in upon them. The intensity of it can most vividly be illustrated when Bull was in the Captain’s Chair in mid-afternoon off Brodick. Not only was it stretching for Louis, but the sequence was a graphic reminder to the non-submariners aboard of just how many things can go wrong with these boats (and this was but a fraction of them).
This is what it felt like in Triumph’s crowded Control Room.
1440
We’re at periscope depth about three miles off Brodick. One of the Type 23s is on us. We can hear its sonar squeaking. Suddenly the klaxon sounds ‘Emergency. Emergency.’ Bulkhead shutdown. Triumph effectively stops. Damage control reports come in. ‘Emergency. Emergency. Major steam leak on starboard side.’ More squeaking from the frigate’s sonar. ‘Casualty. Casualty in the Aft Escape Platform.’ More squeaking. ‘Major steam leak aft.’ A steam leak on this scale means the boat loses about two thirds of its propulsive power. Working conditions will be pretty dire aft.
1445
Contact with a hostile submarine: ‘Belligerent intent’ (i.e. it might be about to launch a torpedo at Triumph). Triumph simulates the launch of a Spearfish torpedo towards the hostile submarine, which is 2500 yards away.
1449
‘Emergency stations. Emergency stations. Hydraulic burst in the Bomb Shop.’ Bull, as acting Captain, halts the launch of a second Spearfish. We’re down to just two torpedo tubes. The others have ‘defects’.
1453
‘Electrical failure. Electrical failure.’ They are trying to work out the cause.
1455
‘Fire. Fire in Five Berth.’ Everyone puts on their breathing apparatus. You have to do this inside the three minutes it takes for smoke to circulate throughout the submarine. It makes doing your job at least 20 per cent harder. The Control Room resounds to the hissing noise of the oxygen and the crew breathing and talking to each other through the apparatus. Stress is building on stress – five emergencies running simultaneously. The combined concentration in the Control Room is almost off the Richter Scale.
Bull has coped well. He comes down to the Wardroom for a breather. He confirms the five things Teacher, metaphorically speaking, has hurled at him. He got the photos he was tasked to acquire:
The Brodick ferry (unknowingly masquerading as a carrier of weapons of mass destruction).
The Brodick jetty, where they had been embarked.
The grey building on the rim of the town, where the dirty bombs had been put together.
Bull, an enthusiast by nature, is still remarkably chipper. Without self-pity he says: ‘I’ve been nine hours in the Control Room. I’ve not eaten. I’ve had quite a lot of caffeine.’
He still doesn’t know if he’s going to pass but he’s truly glad he’s on the last stretch with just over three hours to go to Teacher’s summons. Bull has a wife and three kids in Glasgow. He and his wife have had a pact that they wouldn’t communicate over the last month of the Perisher and they’ve stuck to it.
Ferguson is back in the acting Captain’s seat. Plainly Teacher wants a last look at his capabilities. The final sequence involves identifying WMD stores and military radar sites behind Lamlash to the south of Brodick and to guide Special Forces towards the location of key ‘selectors’, i.e. terrorists. You feel for Ferguson. You really want all four to pass. It would be ghastly to stumble as the clock ticks towards seven and the legendary Perisher Sunday morning breakfast is almost within touching distance.
At 1845 Ramsey comes into the Wardroom (now a Perisher-free zone) to tell us all four have passed. Relief and pleasure all round. The room is prepared for the very special rites of passage for the October 2013 Perisher quartet. Just after seven in the evening, one by one they are brought into the Ward Room by Lieutenant Commander ‘Bing’ Crosby, HMS Triumph’s Executive Officer. One of the Wardroom tables is draped in the White Ensign. The other bears the champagne glasses. The Cava (it was an era of austerity, after all) lies chilling in the galley fridge.
Ramsey leaves him in suspense for a few moments more. ‘How do you think you did?’ he asks. Each exhausted Perisher, face tense, anxiety palpable, manages to get out a few modest words as best he can. Ramsey pauses once more. Then out goes his hand as the magic, confirming words follow. ‘Congratulations, Captain.’ Applause from the rest of us – then the new ‘Captain’ is taken out of the Ward Room before the next one arrives. He doesn’t know if his fellow Perishers have made it or are about to be put off the boat with their kit and a bottle of Teacher’s Whisky for the lonely journey up the Firth of Clyde to Largs, almost certainly never to set foot on a submarine again. Failure brings the cruellest rites of passage.
But they had prevailed after an utterly stretching last day crowded with incident. The handshakes are over and the tension eases. Now a protracted celebration with that Cava in the Wardroom; with beer and Havana cigars on the Eva, the boat taking us all back to Faslane. As the Eva slices through the dark northwards to a cold and wet and dripping Faslane, Ramsey unburdens. This was his last Perisher. He is due to hand over as Teacher and leave the Navy. ‘Tonight it’s really mixed emotions. It’s as if half my life is done. I’m never going to feel that team cohesion again. I’ve gone out on a massive high. I’ve loved the Submarine Service from start to finish.’
There was more late-night drink in the Super Mess when we arrived back at Faslane, followed by a few hours’ sleep and then, early in the morning on Sunday, 20 October, we gathered once again for the Perisher Breakfast to complete the rite of passage as all anxiety fled, the relief, the camaraderie and the warmth of the food and the bliss of the booze took hold. There are fourteen of us in the Blue Room, just off the Mess, overlooking the water. The food and drink are heavy duty for the morning:
Starter
Smoked Salmon and Smoked Mackerel served with bread and a mustard dill sauce
Traditional Perisher Breakfast
Pan Fried Steak
Bacon
Sausage
Grilled Tomatoes
Portobello Mushrooms
Potato Sauce
Scrambled Eggs
Dessert
Stewed Apples blended with natural yoghurt and toasted oats
Coffee
Wines
Port
Admiral Parr distils the significance of passing for the Perishers. Last night in the Wardroom he told them that it did not mean they could now ‘walk on water’. This morning he tells them they will be confident as Commanding Officers that they will know what to do when things happen; if they have a feeling something is not quite right with the boat, they must follow that instinct and ensure that things are checked.
The atmosphere is jolly – but not raucous. There is a d
ash of seriousness. It’s a big thing happening to Bull, Ferguson, Burrill and Haskins. Within a few days their names will be inserted on the big board beside the staircase of the Super Mess in Faslane with all the other Perisher-reared submariners who have formed the thin deep-blue line of Commanders since the First World War. All four know where they are going. Haskins will succeed ‘Bing’ Crosby as Triumph’s Executive Officer. Burrill will become XO on Astute. Ferguson will become XO on one of Vanguard’s two crews. Bull will join Artful as XO and see the boat out of Barrow and into its sea trials.
No other club, however exclusive, has a rite of passage to match Perisher’s. It’s that blending of risk-taking, decisiveness and effectiveness with the crews while still keeping within the boundaries of safety, plus signs that you have that indefinable ‘sixth sense’, which is so very striking. Commander Rémy Thomas, the French equivalent of Teacher who was a French officer on Perisher 2013, was eloquent about this once we were ashore. ‘French COs,’ he said, ‘are more scientific. They are all engineers. The Royal Navy are more warriors. On board we have discussions between experts – the CO and the Engineer. The Royal Navy is a dialogue between a warrior and a scientist. In France it’s between two scientists. We have all this basic culture in nuclear science. And you are paranoid – in a good away – about protecting your secrets.’
It’s easy, once you have experienced it, to understand how Perisher has acquired its coating of legend. It is one of the most famous military courses in the world. It’s both a training and an initiation rite, all performed in front of an entire crew. Those who pass feel they are a special breed. They never forget their own Perisher and rerun it in their heads like an old movie. It is a theatre whose play, though based on a richly historical plot, grips imaginations anew every year when each set of selected Perishers prepare for the private war that will determine their careers.
