My draft chit told me I was joining HMS Bulwark at 05:45 on Thursday 2 September in Devonport Dockyard. The Bulwark was a ship I knew little or nothing about; she’d originally been designed and built as a fleet aircraft carrier, but was now a Landing Platform – Helicopters (LPH for short) otherwise known as a Commando Carrier and that much I did know.

Having spent a few days back home in Newport on pre-draft leave, I caught a train down to Plymouth on the Wednesday and spent my last night ashore at Dame Agatha ‘Aggie’ Weston’s Royal Sailor’s Rest on Albert Road overlooking the Devonport Dockyard. The Sailor’s Rest as an institution dates from 1873, when Miss Weston began the "task of mothering" the sailors of the Royal Navy at Devonport. In days past, with a huge fleet and vast numbers of men being away from home for extended periods, Aggie’s provided a welcoming family environment in a strange port. It still provides the same home from home as it always has but on a smaller scale as the fleet has been reduced.

My ‘cabin’ offered me a partial view of the naval dockyard, but HMS Bulwark was not in my line of sight, so I’d still not set eyes on my new home.

My last evening was spent enjoying a couple of wets in a local boozer. I picked up some supper and although the dockyard was only a short walk away, booked a taxi for the following morning before retiring for the night. Stopping into the ‘reading room’ I selected a volume of ‘Plymouth Events’ and read with some horror about the previous Devonport based Bulwark, which had blown up for no apparent reason and with almost total loss of life at Sheerness in November 1914: I hoped to God this wasn’t some kind of omen!

The cab dropped me on the dockside beside a very large slab of ‘battleship grey’ steel and I still couldn’t see much of my new home. As I looked up I was aware the towering bulk was leaning outboard as if to engulf me, then a hand with a smiling face attached grabbed my kitbag and ushered me up the gangway. The Quartermaster took my details, checked his log and made a short ‘phone call. A few minutes later Charlie Daniels arrived at the gangway.

Charlie was duty REM and as the ship was expecting me, had been tasked with getting me installed aboard before taking me to the ship’s Electronics Maintenance Room (EMR) where I would meet the Chief Radio Electrical Artificer (Chief REA).

As we made our way through the maze of corridors and hatches Charlie maintained a constant babble telling me where things were and who was who. I was completely lost and desperately trying to remember the pages from my seaman’s manual that explained navigation between decks on a ship of war.

We eventually arrived at the radio electrical junior rates mess, 5E2 Mess, where I met Joe Caulfield among a sea of other faces. Joe was killick of the mess (Leading Rate in charge of 5E2) and pointed me to my bunk and locker. The locker was miniscule and I looked at it with dismay wondering where I was going to stow the contents of both suitcase and kitbag.

I was a little taken aback by the amount of activity in the messdeck, given the ship was alongside and this was a normal working day. No time to worry about that now, we were on the move almost immediately.

Let me explain a little about the ship’s layout. Warships deck structures are numbered from 0, which is the weather deck (the open air bit) downwards to n at the bilge, so 1 deck, 2 deck, 3 deck, etc. as you descent. The decks in the superstructure (that bit that stands above the weather deck) are prefixed with the number 0, so 01 deck, 02 deck, 03 deck, etc. as you ascend. The length of the ship is compartmentalised fore to aft starting with the letter ‘A’. Compartments or rooms on the port (left) side of the ship are given even numbers, while those on the starboard (right) side are given odd numbers. Clear as mud, eh? So, my messdeck, 5E2 mess, was on deck 5, in section E and the first compartment on the port side of the ship (actually the only compartment because of the size of the mess): the ship’s waterline was at 3 deck, so we were permanently under water when in the mess.

Off we REMs went to the EMR to meet the ERA: the EMR was at 03J1 deck, so that meant travelling up through the body of the ship and into the island (the superstructure on all flat-tops is referred to as the island). Charlie took me via a completely different route so it’s safe to say if I was confused about my location before, I was feeling even more lost now.

A brief welcome aboard and introductions to both the Chief ERA and to Petty Officer Budd Abbott, who I would be working with in the High Frequency section, then I was sent below to ‘get organised’. I took a deep breath, left the EMR and tried to remember how we’d arrived there: by the time I’d gone forrard and down a couple of decks I’d lost my way and was reduced to looking at hatch combings to read their location markers, thus making it easy to find my way ‘home’. Nothing’s ever straight forward on a naval vessel though and I found my way blocked off at several turns. It eventually took me about 20 minutes to find my way back to the messdeck, by which time Charlie had already returned and was waiting to take me to meet my new Divisional Officer (DO), Lieutenant Jameson.

I was introduced to the ‘Burma Road’ (4 deck) on my way aft to meet the boss: you can think of the Burma Road as the main communication corridor in HMS Bulwark as it ran almost the entire length of the ship.

Another brief welcome and a quick check over my very brief service docs. Lieutenant Jameson was explaining the ship would be putting to sea with the morning tide and excused himself as the tannoy piped “Special sea duty men, close up.” Charlie whisked me back to the mess.

I understood now why everything around me seemed to be happening so fast. As we entered the messdeck, I could see most of my new colleagues were already dressed in the No 1 uniforms: they would be manning the ship’s side for leaving harbour. I was excused this activity having only just joined and not even having a HMS Bulwark cap ribbon with which to adorn my bonnet.

Charlie took me down to Budd’s domain for my first look at the HF Room almost as far aft as you could get before getting your feet wet, then disappeared to his own duties. I found Budd sat on a stool smoking a fag and drinking a cup of coffee; he smiled at me, said something about it falling into place soon enough and told me he was needed in the EMR shortly. Budd asked if this was my first trip to sea and I told him it was. He suggested I might like to watch the ship leave harbour and took me up to one of the RADAR rooms at the top of the island. The room, which was empty, had a doorway to the outside world and a kind of balcony with a ladder leading upwards to the rotating aerial. I sat on the deck behind the balcony screen where I could keep out of the way and not be seen from below, but would still be able to watch as Bulwark made her way out of Devonport and to sea.

Watching the land slide past as Bulwark made her way down the Tamar and into Plymouth Roads was something special and I felt quite excited within myself. This was really it, I was finally at sea.

Facts and Figures

The Light Fleet Carrier originated during the Second World War. Requirements were for a good turn of speed, great steaming endurance and facilities for operating and maintaining aircraft over protracted periods without external assistance.

The Hermes class of Light Fleet Carriers was to comprise Albion, Arrogant, Bulwark, Centaur, Elephant, Hermes, Monmouth and Polyphemus. Of these eight, four ships – Arrogant, Hermes, Monmouth and Polyphemus – were cancelled. The Elephant was renamed Hermes, but was so different by the time she was completed may well have been in a class of her own.

Bulwark was authorised in 1943 and her keel was laid down in the Musgrave Shipyard of Harland & Wolff Ltd, Belfast on 10 May 1945. When the Second World War ended, the pace of building eased, so the ship wasn’t launched until 22 June 1948. Fitting out was undertaken without urgency and HMS Bulwark was finally commissioned on 29 October 1954 – she was the Royal Navy’s sixth Bulwark.

Technical Details As Built

Length overall 737 feet 9 inches (224.8 metres)
Beam on the waterline 90 feet (27.4 metres)
Displacement 22,000 tons (standard) 27,000 tons (full load)
Armament 26 x 40mm AA (two 6 barrelled, five twin, four single)
Aircraft 45
Machinery Parsons geared turbines (2 shafts)
Boilers Four Admiralty 3-drum type
SHP 78,000
Speed 28 knots
Complement 1,037; c 1390 with squadrons embarked
Cost £10,386,000 (excluding guns, aircraft and equipment)
Pennant Number R08

Converted to LPH Commando Carrier between January 1959 and January 1960.
Eight 40mm AA guns were removed to make place for four L.C.A.s carried at built in gantries.

In conditions of limited war Bulwark would be able to provide a highly mobile amphibious force of 600 Commando troops and also capable of embarking an additional Commando or Army unit.