But all good things eventually come to an end.  I picked up a draft chit to join Albion in dry-dock in Portsmouth and I was back in the Pusser.  It was on the Albion that I met up with Jim Hair (from my class) who was just finishing his time on Albion and Bill Raggett and Butch Thomas, who, like me, were advance party.  True to form, my papers were thoroughly scrutinised and I was put in charge of the diesel generators.  Four horrible great National Gas HAU8 engines and all the onboard spares were for National Gas HALL8 engines.  So what else should I have expected?  I didn’t particularly enjoy my time on Albion, but that didn’t have so much to do with the ship, or the tiffies in the mess, but one Lieutenant Nixon.  He and I were at daggers drawn from day one and that doesn’t do much for one’s serenity.  I after wonder what happened to him, I would like to think that he ended up as a ‘passed over two and a half ringer’ who could only get a job as a road sweeper on the local council when he left the service – but no doubt that like all other ratbags he would have fallen on his feet somehow.  I can honestly say that no other engineer (or other) officer instilled as much abhorrence in me as he did, although the Captain of my last ship ran him a close second.  I have heard that Nixon wasn’t top of the popularity stakes with Edgar either!

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