SAILORS' PAY DAY

Bay of Plenty Beacon, Volume 6, Issue 72, 14 May 1943, Page 3

SAILORS' PAY DAY

CEREMONY ANI> "CONKERS"

In the recollection of many of us, writes Cecil Hampshire in Trident, "conkers" were horse chestnuts with which, as small boys, all sorts of fun could be had, and possession of many conkers' brought grudging respect from other small boys. But possession of conkers in the navy

brings even more respect, for "conk-

ers" is the slang word for money. Just as an American talks of Tish,'

'skins,' 'tomatoes,' or even 'grand'

for dollars, so Jack talks of "conkers" for his pound, shillings and pence. All foreign countries, on the other hand, he terms "ackers." "Conkers Day," therefore, is pay <Tay, but the receipt of the hardearned is not just a simple matter of seeing the eashier. Pay parade in the army has its traditional ceremony, but it has little 011 pay day in the navj r .

A 1,1 sailors are "borne" on ships'

books

that is, their names are en-

tered on the ship's ledgers and they V are % each given a ship's book number and, nowadays, a paybook in

Whieli this appears, to act as an identity card.

Pay daj r is usually once, a fort-

night in home waters and monthly

abroad, and when the great moment arrives, all hands are piped to muster on deck. Here" they line rip in ship's book number order, while the accountant staff busy themselves with money and ledgers. Most warships' nowadays pay by wage envelopes, having put. up the amounts' due beforehand, so payment is usually a rapid and efficient procedure. At the back of each of the tables stands one or more executive officers who, in accordance with tradition, "witness" main payments and investigates complaints on the spot, if .any. Controlling the lines of men are the regulating staff, or ""crushers" and when all are ready,

payment commences. The "drill," hallowed by centuries, is as follows: The ledger writer calls out a man's name and he steps forward, removes his cap, unless he happens to be a petty officer, when he salutes, and .announces his ship's book number in no uncertain voice, at the same time exhibiting his pay L book as evidence of his correct apA pearance in the flesh. The ledger W writer rapidly -chocks the number In the ledger and calls out the amount due. The paying officer *V slides the money from its envelope * on to the man's cap, which must > be placed on the table crown downWard, the payee standing smartly ' at attention to one side. The lucky one then picks up cap and money and moves quickly awaj\ .. That Is the. theory. But. "Conkers f Day" has its adkward moments for • V jpany. One of the most touching parts of the instruction for new entries in the navy is that devoted to teaching the pay day drill. After a few hours the neAV entry is con-, vincetl that he understands perfect- , Jy, and is anxious for more than one reason to put his technique to the . test. You might almost say he is gently contemptuous about the whole thing. Childish, but. necessary, he supposes. ■ The great day dawns, and at long I last he arrives at the pay tablejBefore his suddenly dazed eyes there stands a grim looking lieutenantcommander whose gimlet orbs bore Into his very soui, while the pay. table appears to be surrounded by dozens of staring faces. Finding himself the star turn before a hypercritical audience, stage fright grips and at once, he crumbles. His black silk handkerchief seems to hang around liis neck like an unjttidy lashed hammock, his hands feel great useless red lumps because the sleeves.of. his jumper seem to have i retired to his elbows, and he is pain- ' fully aware of the stains on his ■ working suit which appear to stand out like liatpegs. Dimly he becomes aware of impatient voices. "Number!" The writer .is bawling. "Take your cap off!" a red-faced R.P.O. "Say P* 'sir,' says the "Jaunty." "Put your ' cap on the TABLE!" snaps the accountant officer. "Show your pay % book to the; paymaster!" howls another "crusher." At- last he accomplishes something. His trembling hand drops his cap on the table, crown upward, of course, to the intense vocal, irritation of all„ and his pay bock at last is properly exhibited to the gaze of the paying officer. "Two pounds ten," says the writer curtly, and "Haircut!" says the i -witnessing officcr, and the ordeal is over. Too many "absences over leave" the fortnight, or several ■"casual" payments begged from a

sympathetic paymaster sometimes brings a curt "Not entitled!" or "North-easter," as i sailors term it, on pay day proper, but. Jack must still undergo the ritual, even though he 'knows there is nothing of him.

In the main, however, pay day brings a satisfactory sum tinkling on to the crown of the cap, but before he can say "Schickelgruber" Jack's conkers are rapidly leaving him, for conker day is also pay-away day. Mess bills, dhobey bills, "rubbers" (loans) to be repaid. All his creditors are on him at once. Un the old days when His Majesty's mariners wore oiled straw hats and pigtails, Jack's conkers were dragged from a reluctant Treasury at much longer intervals than I lie modest fortnight of. to-day for .a commission lasted for five years or more, sometimes a whole war, and payment, if any, was made at its close. In some of the ledgers of Nelson's day, which were once on view in the. Royal Dockyard Museum at Portsmouth, there are recorded the transactions of conker days of the past. Many men received at the close of their commission the magnificent sum of £1. 10s. Then, conkers disappeared "down the tlrain" like smoke, but in the middle of the 19tlv century a Naval Savings Bank was created by Act of Parliament, and nautical customers began to flock to it as the feeling of having a conker or two tucked away grew rapidly popular. So much so that the Naval Savings Bank at last- could not cope with Jack's savings, and the Post Office stepped in and took over.