Читать книгу Under Pressure. Living Life and Avoiding Death on a Nuclear Submarine онлайн

28 страница из 72

As I became older, this love of adventure – plus Simon Murray’s book, which had provoked my failed attempt to join the Legion – pushed me towards a life away from formal education. When I returned from Marseilles, the Navy looked like the next best option for an unconventional life – and I’d also heard that the Submarine Service paid well. Serving Queen and country never entered into it for me, as I was neither nationalistic nor a particular fan of the monarchy. The only people who ever talked about fighting for Queen and country were – and still are – feckless politicians who’d never done, nor ever would do, any of the fighting. Queen and country? One was outdated as an institution, the other past it as an idea. No, I wanted to do it for me.

HMS Raleigh is a naval establishment on the banks of the River Tamar in Cornwall, where all new recruits commence their Part 1* training. At the height of a warm and bristling English summer in early July 1985, while the country was looking forward to Live Aid from Wembley and Philadelphia, all I had in front of me was 11 weeks of utter hell and lunacy. I arrived on the Torpoint ferry from Plymouth, trying to give off an air of nonchalant irreverence. I decided I’d try to get on with everyone and make the best of it, and attempt not to get too downhearted if things didn’t go according to plan. I was nervous, yes, but I had to exude some positivity if I was to make the grade.