It is Tuesday.
In case you aren't finding that very enjoyable, may I attempt to cheer you up with a naval miscellany from World War 2.
In case you aren't finding that very enjoyable, may I attempt to cheer you up with a naval miscellany from World War 2.
First, a wonderful example of how to take bad news.
In May 1941 Admiral John Tovey was in command of the Royal Navy's Home Fleet, waiting for news of a battle being fought in the Denmark Straight between his ships and German units including the battleship Bismarck.
In May 1941 Admiral John Tovey was in command of the Royal Navy's Home Fleet, waiting for news of a battle being fought in the Denmark Straight between his ships and German units including the battleship Bismarck.
The news, when it arrived, was catastrophic.
HMS Hood, the darling of the fleet and one of the most famous warships in the world, had been blown out of the water with the loss of all but three of her thousand strong crew.
The German ships had escaped.
HMS Hood, the darling of the fleet and one of the most famous warships in the world, had been blown out of the water with the loss of all but three of her thousand strong crew.
The German ships had escaped.
This devastating information was communicated to Tovey by the Fleet Radio Officer, who was in a state of some excitement.
Tovey's response was a classic of its kind: 'All right, Phillips. No need to shout'.
Tovey's response was a classic of its kind: 'All right, Phillips. No need to shout'.
Next time you're given a challenging assignment at work, spare a thought for Lt Tim Bligh of the 20th Motor Gunboat Flotilla.
On 18 September 1943 Lt Bligh was given two MGBs (combined crew about 40), US Brigadier General Theodore Roosevelt, an Italian colonel and the concise, if rather daunting, instruction to 'absorb Sardinia'.
Another MGB flotilla was crewed by members of the Royal Norwegian Navy, and operated against German shipping along the coast of their native land.
Their tactic was to conceal themselves in remote inlets and head out at night to find their targets.
Their tactic was to conceal themselves in remote inlets and head out at night to find their targets.
Sometimes this involved remaining hidden for days at a time, and occasionally the crews were found by local people.
When this happened, the crews would lay on a lavish spread for their fellow countrymen and then impress on them the need for secrecy.
When this happened, the crews would lay on a lavish spread for their fellow countrymen and then impress on them the need for secrecy.
One detected crew and followed this formula rather too effectively.
So grateful were the locals for their hospitality, that they arranged a return fixture in their village, for which purpose they hired an accordion player and gathered a number of the best looking local girls.
So grateful were the locals for their hospitality, that they arranged a return fixture in their village, for which purpose they hired an accordion player and gathered a number of the best looking local girls.
When a delegation returned to the still camouflaged MGB to deliver the formal invitation, they were bewildered, and possibly a little put out, when the crew left immediately and at high speed for Scotland.
Finally, the tricky business of landing craft. Difficult, and sometimes nightmarish, to sail, they were crewed almost entirely by RNVR officers (including Alec Guinness) and ratings with no previous experience of the sea.
In 1944 the landing craft carried out intense training for the upcoming D Day invasion. Their role was vital: if the troops and equipment didn't get safely onto the beaches the invasion would fail.
At the conclusion of their training the crews received a final message from their commanding officer, Rear-Admiral Rhoderick McGrigor, which concluded with the following wonderful sentence:
'I have only one request to make: when the day comes and we all go in, would you please please not eat your lunches on the bridge.'