“RESOURCE”
3rd June 1974 to 7th January 1975
British Crew
1st Officer
It was my second appointment to this ship, although now with greater responsibilities. As well as understudying the Chief Officer by assisting with replenishments and operating the RAS rigs, my own ‘part-of-ship’ was the flight deck with our own permanently embarked ‘Wessex 5’ helicopter. I was also the ship’s ‘NBCD’ officer.
‘NBCD’ encompassed all aspects of Nuclear, Biological and Chemical Defence, as well as damage control and firefighting. All modern RFA’s were built with defence from modern types of warfare in mind. It was anticipated that RFA’s may well be in close company with warships in a conflict and so were fitted with the best available protection. This ship could pre-wet her outer surfaces by use of a fixed system of water sprayers. When activated, the whole of the ship’s outer surface would be sprayed with seawater. Any contamination falling on the ship when passing through a nuclear fallout area, or any residue on deck or elsewhere outside, as a result of being hit with biological or chemical weapons, would be greatly reduced by the spray and be washed overboard. These ships and other RFA’s of the 1960’s and 70’s were built with a means of sealing off the accommodation areas by gas-tight portholes, doors and ventilator flaps. The only air inlets were small vents leading to an air filtration system, which filtered and ‘scrubbed’ the air before allowing it into the ‘citadel’. The incoming clean air built up a positive air pressure within the citadel. Any small leaks in the sealed citadel were vented outwards. The accommodation citadels could only be entered or left through an airlock system of doors. After the ship had left a danger area, which was detectable by remotely mounted sensors, teams of specially dressed crewmen were then sent out to look for ‘hot-spots’ of remaining contamination, using hand held detectors. Other similarly dressed teams then set about scrubbing these areas clean. On returning into the citadel airlocks, those men were then stripped of their protective and under garments, thoroughly washed down, tested and finally allowed into the citadel with fresh clothing.
There was a recognised system of shutting down the accommodation and other areas by stages, depending on the severity of the threat. Both this and the decontamination process had to be practised, so that each person on the ship knew what he had to do and where to go. Whilst around the U.K. coast the crew were almost constantly changing for one reason or another. It was a real headache trying to keep on top of the training requirements. Contracted men who knew the RFA ways were few and far between at that time.
My limited knowledge of ‘NBCD’ matters was acquired on a two-week course at “HMS Phoenix” near Portsmouth, where a lot of time was taken up in very realistic firefighting and damage control situations. At the “Phoenix” complex there was a specially constructed steel structure simulating the inside of a ship. You were put into small teams given a set of breathing apparatus each and a fire hose whilst they set fire to the structure. The teams then had to enter this black and smoke filled hell, to find and extinguish all the fires. It got extremely hot in that steel jungle and visibility was just about zero. If anything went wrong in there during an exercise, huge sections could be opened out very quickly by the staff to allow your escape.
There was another steel building built to look like the inside of a warship, which could be tilted in all directions by hydraulic rams to simulate rough seas or a developing list. Water could be forced through distorted hatches and splinter holes, chilling you to the bone and slowly filling the compartment. You were expected to work as a team to plug all the holes, shore up bulkheads and close hatched with jacks and sections of timber and rig emergency power supplies, all before the whole place flooded. It was an awful course to go on in the winter months!
Whilst at sea, as well as the afore-mentioned ‘NBCD’ procedures, which were particular to warships and RFA’s, we underwent the regular weekly ‘Board of Trade Sports’, as fire and lifeboat drill was affectionately known. Trying to keep all these drill interesting, and not just another bloody chore for those on board, was quite hard going even though this was a munitions ship, with the inbuilt potential for a major emergency.
In the “Regent” narrative, I mentioned the purpose of ‘H.Q.1’. This was now my kingdom during ‘NBCD’ and firefighting drills. All incident and progress reports came into this compartment and were logged and displayed on the control boards. Countermeasures were planned and ordered from here.
When I wasn’t teaching or exercising ‘NBCD’ activities, I could be found working on the flight deck during flying operations and ‘Vertreps’, managing a RAS rig during replenishments or looking after the Deck Department stores administration. During my time on board we plied mainly around the U.K. coast but managed a trip to the Mediterranean, visiting Gibraltar, Villefranche and Barcelona, during yet another NATO exercise.
It was during the period on the U.K. coast that I had my first brush with ‘Royalty’. “Resource” was at Portland and secured to one of the buoys in the harbour area. We were scheduled to take part in an “Anti-sabotage” exercise with “HMS Fife”. She was to send across to us, under the leadership of a RN officer, an armed guard of seamen to protect us from underwater swimmers or frogmen. When they arrived, the members of the guard were posted around the upper deck to keep a lookout for swimmers, or the tell-tale bubbles on the surface of the water, coming from divers working under the ship. As duty officer that evening I was walking around the upper decks just checking that all was well. Rounding a corner I found a bunch of these so-called guards chatting and smoking cigarettes. Smoking on deck was strictly banned on armament ships, with notices to that effect posted everywhere. After getting the guards to put out their smokes I stormed up to the bridge to give the RN officer in charge a piece of my mind for not briefing his men properly. I was getting stuck into my comments when I thought that the naval officer’s face was a bit familiar. It was Prince Charles! (He was a Sub-Lieutenant with the RN at that time, serving on “HMS Fife”). Having started my little rollicking I had to finish, but he was O.K. about it and I wasn’t sent to the “tower” the following day.
A few months later I had completed my six-month appointment, plus a few weeks, as you never got relieved on time. I paid off at Plymouth when the ship called there for cargo adjustments, to prepare stocks of armaments and other stores for her next deployment.