Og's Blog Pt. 05

Og's Blog Pt 05

Og becomes a civil servant. Part 01

Author's Note: Because of the Official Secrets Act, this has to be regarded as a fictionalised account and names will be omitted.

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When I went to Australia for two years the intention was that I would go to school there and take the Australian equivalent of the UK's A levels - university entrance qualifications, and on return to the UK I would take the UK A levels. Afterwards I would go to a UK university.

It didn't work out like that. Yes, I took and passed the Australian Matriculation level with honours in Geography and English Literature. If I had been staying in Australia I could have gone to university there. I was offered two different scholarships: one for all books and equipment and a living grant of 800 Australian pounds a year; and the other of books and equipment and one thousand five hundred Australian pounds a year plus a guaranteed job if I passed my degree. 1,500 Australian pounds was worth about 1,200 UK pounds - a fantastic sum for a student at the time.

But I was due to return to the UK and had nowhere to live in Australia once my parents had left. I went with them and resumed studies at the UK school. But the time I had left on arrival in the UK until the examinations was too short - about six weeks. If I hadn't been studying French and English Literature it might - just - have been possible but not for those subjects for which I had to study in depth set texts I hadn't looked at for two years. After a couple of weeks the school suggested should repeat a year and try for the A levels after that year.

I and my parents investigated whether I could go to university on the basis of my Australian qualifications. Yes, no problem. I could apply to and expect to be accepted at any UK university including Oxford or Cambridge with one proviso. I had to be an Australian citizen and paying as a foreign student. Paying might have been possible. Becoming an Australian citizen now I was back in the UK was impossible. If I went back to Australia I could become Australian and go to university in Australia on one of those offered sponsorships but as a UK resident my qualifications were useless.

My father wanted me to follow in his footsteps as a civil servant. The initial pay wasn't brilliant but the prospects for advancement were significant. He had started a boy messenger at age 12 and was now a very senior civil servant indeed, as was his elder brother. In the absence of any other career that attracted me, I didn't see why not? My enthusiasm wasn't great. I was still disappointed not to be going to university this year. Another year at school seemed endless. If I had gone to Oxford or Cambridge I had intended to apply to become a civil servant when I had my degree.

But there was another way. As part of the 1870 Trevelyan reforms of the civil service, examinations had been set up for serving civil servants and outsiders to be appointed as junior managers. The eligibility was only that you had to be between the ages of 18 and 28 in the September of the year of the examination and pass the examination at a sufficiently high level - set at a post-graduate standard. It had been originally intended for those who did not have an Oxbridge degree but had been to another university or had been home tutored to university degree level.

Unusually, even if you failed, you could apply again the following years and until you were 28 years old. That year's examination would take place about ten days after I had returned from Australia. My father and I thought why not? It would be a good preparation for next year, even if, as expected, I failed.

There were 2,500 candidates sitting that year's examination. 250 were expected to pass. The top 50 would be appointed without a further marked interview. The other 200 would take an extensive interview which would be marked.

The examinations were very long and complex, and because of the expected standard, harder than my A levels would have been. But unlike my A levels they didn't require particular set works. For French and English Literature, a wide knowledge of the literature was assumed and that I had.

To my surprise and the astonishment of my father, I passed the written examination and was ranked 247 out of 250. I now had to face the marked series of interviews. But I had family connections. My father ran similar interviews within his civil service department and could give me advice. My uncle did even more interviews and he gave me practice interviews, as did my maternal uncle, then the General Manager of a Building Society.

The result was, out of the 200 people who had a marked interview; I scored equal with the highest four others. My ranking changed from 247/250 to 145/250. I would be a civil servant, having passed a post graduate examination at age 18.

At the time I didn't know it, but that year was the last of those examinations ever. The next year would only be for university graduates. I couldn't have retaken it had I failed.

But the examination and the announcement of the results and then the interviews took time - several months. In the meantime I had been applying for other jobs. Before the civil service decided I had passed the examination I had three job offers. Two were as management trainees in banks - the Midland and Barclays. The pay wasn't great - a few hundreds a year, but the prospects were nearly as good as the civil service. The third offer was more problematic. It was as a trainee manager for a new supermarket chain. They had three stores and expected to expand to twenty in the next five years. The salary was £1500 a year as a trainee - nearly three times what I would earn with the banks or the civil service when starting. But they made it very clear in their offer that I would be expected to be on call 24/7 and would work an average 16 hour day Monday to Saturday and 12 hours on Sunday with more if needed.

One of my uncles managed three supermarkets. At the time they were seen as medium sized. Today we would think of them as slightly larger than normal convenience stores. I asked his advice and he made some enquiries through his contacts. The trainee managers they already had were working more than the quoted average and complaining they just couldn't get enough sleep. Yes, the pay was fantastic but for that they expected to own you, body and soul. But the trade opinion was that the company were too ambitious for their finances and would fail soon. They did. Within three years the company wound up.

I was about to take my uncle's advice and reject the supermarket offer when the result of my civil service examination came. As 247th out of 250 I was guaranteed a civil service job whatever the result of the interview. I rejected all three job offers.

Now I and the civil service had to decide in which department I would be appointed. I was sent a form to complete with six spaces for the departments I might want to be in. I should have known from my father's career and my brother's National Service, that my choice would be totally irrelevant. I would end up where I was sent and my wishes didn't count except to cause amusement to those dealing with appointments.

At the top of the list I put the Post Office, then one half of the civil service. The next four were smaller departments including Forestry Commission and Ordnance Survey. My last one I thought was the banker - Inland Revenue. If the Post Office didn't want me, Inland Revenue was sure to.

I should have known better. The answer was that I had been assigned to the Ministry of Defence.

The Ministry of Defence sent me their own form. Which department of the Ministry of Defence did I want to be in? I didn't want to be in my father's department - an Admiralty Stores department. I put the RAF and Army and a few oddities such as Astronomer Royal and Radio telescopes.

I should have known better. The answer was that I had been assigned to the Admiralty.

The Admiralty sent me their own form. Which department of the Admiralty did I want to be in? I didn't want to be in my father's department - a Stores department. I put the Finance and Contracts departments and the Astronomer Royal (then part of the Admiralty) and Hydrographical Survey.

I should have known better. The answer was that I had been assigned to the Naval Stores Department - a parallel department to that in which my father was as senior member.

The Naval Stores Department sent me their own form. Where in the Naval Stores Department did I want to located? I could choose two alternatives. I chose their headquarters in Central London and the nearest dockyard - Chatham.

I should have known better. I was appointed to HM Dockyard Portsmouth.

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Shortly afterwards I received my official appointment letter. It was on parchment and started:

"Sir, I am commanded by the Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty..."

And ended:

"I beg to remain, Sir, your most humble and obedient servant."

With that there was a whole series of enclosures including how to arrange accommodation n Portsmouth. I contacted the accommodation department and they found me a cheap flat in Southsea which I would be sharing with the other new appointee arriving a week later than me. That week was significant. I meant that I would be senior to him for the whole time we were of the same rank, and might be considered for promotion before him.

I had been appointed at the general civil service rank of executive officer in the civil service but in the Admiralty I was made an Assistant Naval Store Officer (ANSO for short). The pay was the same but the Admiralty had a very different idea about the duties. They saw an ANSO as a commissioned rank who might go to sea. An ANSO could be the supply officer on a small stores ship accompanying the navy, or the sole manager of a small stores depot. As an ANSO could go to sea he had a notional navy rank. In a dockyard or office an ANSO would be a supervisor with a staff of clerical officers and clerical assistants. They were seen as NCOs in military terms while an ANSO was an officer. There was an oddity of a rank as Higher Clerical Officer (HCO) who might be in charge of a number of people doing a repetitive task, like a large typing pool but an HCO was seen as a senior NCO, not an officer although paid the same as an ANSO.

The other significant difference was that Clerical Officers, Clerical assistants and HCOs were recruited locally and stayed in one place. ANSOs and higher ranks were expected to be fully mobile and capable of being sent anywhere in the UK or abroad. At the time the assumption was that a new ANSO would spend three years in a UK dockyard, three years abroad in locations such as Gibraltar, Malta, Singapore etc., and three years at the London headquarters and then be promoted to start the process all over again.

On 1 October 1962, as instructed, I entered Portsmouth Dockyard by the main gate at the appointed time. Dockyard security was by Royal Marines. I produced my appointment letter and the sergeant in charge of the guard was summoned. To my surprise, once he had read it, he saluted me. As a civilian, even if as a very new civil servant, I hadn't expected that. He also seemed surprised when I showed him my letter. He took me in the guard office and made me a cup of tea.

He explained that as an ANSO, even if one only of a few minutes, I was an officer, and not just any officer but the equivalent of a Lieutenant-Commander Royal Navy or Major of Royal Marines. Yet I was 18 years old. He was surprised at my youth. I didn't know it, but at the time I was the youngest of that rank in the Admiralty by at least five years, and almost the youngest in the whole of the UK's civil service - because I had passed a post-graduate examination.

The Sergeant assigned a Marine Corporal to take me to my department's office. The Corporal was at least a decade older than me. As we walked through the dockyard he asked:

"Is it true, sir, that you are a Major of Royal Marines?"

"Yes, and no, Corporal," I said. "It is a courtesy rank. I am a civilian. If there is a shooting war that courtesy title means nothing. I would be outranked by the newest Marine recruit and far below a Corporal. But while I am working, I would be dealing with Officers, not Corporals or Sergeants. My courtesy title gives me status when working with Naval or Marine officers. That's all it does."

"Thank you for that explanation, sir." He said. "I couldn't understand how you could be a Major so young."

"Neither do I, Corporal," I replied. "I'll just have to get used to it. But as a very new appointee I expect to be treated as you might treat any brand-new officer - with suspicion and care until he has proved himself."

"Thank you, sir. I don't think you need worry. The fact that you have been able and willing to explain your apparent rank to me makes me think you'll do well. Many people regard Corporals as beneath their notice."

"Then that is stupid of them, Corporal. NCOs run the Marines."

The Corporal shook my hand before saluting when we had arrived at our destination.

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The ANSO in charge of the personnel section was embarrassed by my arrival. The training officer, who should be meeting me today had come in to work and had left within minutes. His wife had gone into labour with their first child two weeks early.

He took me to the trainees' office, a substantial room overlooking HMS Victory. There he gave me a bottle of Indian ink, a dip pen, a pot of paste and a brush.

"I think the training officer should be back tomorrow but he hadn't left any instructions about you. However," he said pointing at an 18 inch high pile of sheets of paper, "those are the amendments to the Books of Reference that haven't been done since the last trainee left six months ago. BR1 is the index to all the other books."

He opened a large two door cupboard filled with blue covered books,

"These are the trainees' reference library. I suggest that you sort the amendments by BR number and start with BR1. If you have any questions, I'm down the corridor. I'll be back at lunchtime. OK?"

"Yes, thank you," I replied.

Over the next two hours I sorted the amendments and started altering BR1. Fortunately most of the amendments to that book were complete replacement pages. I had to note in the front of BR1 each amendment I had done so that there was a complete reference to the state of the book.

Other books had amendments to be done neatly in ink, or small paragraphs to be pasted over existing paragraphs. By lunchtime I was satisfied with my progress and beginning to get a knowledge of the workings of the Admiralty. But I had about one hundred and eighty books to go.

The personnel ANSO collected me and took me to the dockyard officer's canteen. There he introduced me to all the other ANSOs and more senior officers of the department, giving their name, rank and what section they were in charge of. After lunch he took me to all the other officers who had not been in the canteen.

"I don't expect you to remember any of them," he said, "It was so that they know who you are, not for you to remember them."

In the personnel office one of his Clerical Officers gave him the transcript of a telephone message.

"OK. The training officer's wife had a healthy baby boy at 11 o'clock this morning. He should be back tomorrow because his wife and baby will be staying with her parents. But until then, I'm sorry. It's back to the books of reference. I'll collect you when we go home. OK?"

"Yes, thank you," I said.

I went back to the trainees' room and back to the amendments. I as making better progress than I expected because the higher the number of the reference book the more likely it was that an amendment would be a complete new page instead of having to amend by pen or a pasted paragraph.

About three o'clock the telephone in the room rang. I wasn't expecting that. Was this a test? I picked the phone up gingerly and announced the extension number and my name.

It was the captain of the aircraft carrier I could see from the room's window. He was angry.

"There's one of your gash bins [think skips or dumpsters nowadays] overflowing near my gangplank and I'm expecting the Port Admiral in an hour. Get it moved. Now!"

That is an expletive-deleted version of what he said.

"Yes Sir," I said as he crashed the phone down at his end. I knew that the captain of an aircraft carrier was as near to god as almost anyone in the navy.

I ran into the next room to another ANSO that I had been introduced to at lunch time. Fortunately for me he was the correct one. His phone number was only one digit different to the trainee's number.

"Oh shit!" he said, reaching for his telephone. "Thank you. I'll deal with it."

I went back to amending the books of reference. Within five minutes I could see the gash bin being removed and a team of men clearing up around it.

By the end of the day I had completed the whole pile of amendments and I was sitting reading the BR on personnel procedures when the ANSO came in to tell me my first day had ended.

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