The Beginning

When did the commission actually begin? The Admiralty records— and indeed the cover of this book—will show that it began at the Commissioning ceremony, on 15th November, 1962, but to many of us the story begins much earlier.

To Commander “SAM” Birkett, the ship’s first Engineer Officer, and to Chief E.R.A. Munroe, the big day was the 10th June, 1960. On that sunny day in Birkenhead, they watched HRH Princess Alexandra launch the ship with the traditional blessing,
“MAY GOD BLESS ALL WHO SAIL IN HER.”

HRH Princess Alexandra at the launching of HMS Devonshire10th June 1960

Inevitably, it would be a long while before anyone could sail in her. As the launching coat of fresh paint got dirtier in Cammell Laird’s basin, the long and complicated fitting out process got underway, and the first members of the ship’s first commission watched and learnt.

By the end of 1960, the advance party consisted of the Commander, Commander E, Commander L, Lt. Maber, Chief ERA Munroe, Chief Shipwright Parr, Chief ME Youd and POME (now CME) Gage. Our numbers continued to grow steadily throughout 1961, until by late summer 1962, over thirty officers and 140 ratings were “standing by.”

We were based in offices close to the main gate of the works, with a noisy electrical shop beneath us, a rather leaky roof above and a fine view of the daily “out muster.” Other centres of activity were the ship, of course, and the vast scale mock up of the machinery spaces in a shed near by—a complex mass of wooden engines, boilers and pipework.

Accommodation was very much a matter of luck. By and large the Landladies of Oxton and Cloughton, of Rockferry and New Brighton, did us proud, but a few proved difficult to handle. Such was the case with the three Leading hands who once found themselves sharing lodgings with a monkey; one officer was required to change into bedroom slippers at the front door mat, place his walking shoes on the newspaper provided in the hall and never on any account to open a window, so that his landlady could keep the digs clean. Another landlady “gave notice” after her lodger had expressed his view on the supper quite clearly by throwing the chips at her.

“Liquid Lunches” were popular. To get to the bar of the “Royal Castle,” for example, one literally only had to dodge across the main road. But to many, who could not abide such a hideous Victorian visage, it was worth a step along to the “Manor” to get a pair of cheese sandwiches and a jug or two of ale. The really ambitious went far afield in search of a solid meal at a reasonable price, and the Gunnery Officer is said to have sampled every cafe in Birkenhead. 

Devonshire after launch on 10th June 1960

Of other activities there was plenty. It was natural that in such an area, golf soon became an “organised sport,” led by C.O.A. Tulip, a team of OA’s and others could be seen departing with a bag of clubs on many an afternoon—how far they actually got round the course was never discovered. LEM (now P.O. Elect.) Bagley played cricket for Cammell Lairds and led the Embryo “Devonshire” team to at least one crashing defeat at the hands of the demon Boilermakers.

One other sport must be mentioned—that resulting from the annual tripper invasion of the Wall, in spite of the higher demand and prices of lodgings there, each summer saw a great increase in “approved lodgings” in New Brighton, and fewer long weekends spent away from the area. Details cannot be given in this magazine (for obvious reasons), but it must be recorded that Merseyside took a considerable toll of our batchelors. The prize undoubtedly goes to Leading Seaman Homer, who, arriving as a batchelor AB, contrived to be a married leading rate with three children before the ship commissioned.

Onboard, the work went on steadily, as did the forecast sea trials and commissioning dates. For each compartment, first of all drawing meetings were held, to discuss and finalise drawings; then a “lineout inspection” carried out by appropriate experts, with all the fittings marked out in the empty shell (how much more space there seemed to be in a messdeck then!). Next came progress inspections when the larger fittings and electrics were installed; inevitably a few alterations would

be made, often at the advance party’s instigation, and eventually a final inspection carried out.

At last in March 1962, the ship was ready for contractors’ sea trials. These started with two days off the Mersey, then continued for three fortnightly periods in the Clyde. Accommodation was short, so only a portion of the advance party could be onboard at one time; the remainder kept a dreary telephone watch back in our Birkenhead offices. The trials themselves were most impressive—you don’t often see your ship at full power astern for 4 hours, or see her being forcibly rolled to over 27 degrees each side. It was unusual, too, to see the ship being run on Merchant Services lines—but we were impressed by the food. which was reported to have cost about four times the rate of “Pussers” Victualling Allowance.


With trials completed, back we went to the basin at Birkenhead for the last pre-commissioning leg. As final inspection dates came near, ship manager Fred Morgan got more and more hard pressed ; fortunately for all of us, he remained good natured and co-operative to the end, and we were delighted to see his efforts rewarded with the MBE at the New Year’s Honours List after our acceptance.

Our offices became ever more crowded as Commissioning approached.
One little cage found no less that twentyfive artificers trying, to drink tea and study drawings together; while next door, over different discussions on Ops Room manning problems. the voice of the Gunnery Officer could sometimes be heard arguing wih his butcher about his Sunday joint.

It is not easy to describe the pace, pressures and problems of the last few weeks. To an outside observer, it must have seemed chaotic storing versus painting, tuning versus cooling water, commissioning plans versus British Railways—and above all a chronic lack of space in which to do anything.

At the Eleventh Hour, commissioning had to be delayed two weeks owing to a painters’ strike ( more like that the ‘scousers’ had nicked the paint!) Bitter blow though it was, it is an ill wind that blows no good”; the main draft could be assembled in Portsmouth and properly briefed ; lots of little things onboard could be better finished, and the advance party could get a much needed breather before the next hurdle.

Commissioning week dawned damp and cold. On Tuesday morning. 13th November, the Commodore Superintendent Contract Built Ships. made his final inspection; as the inspecting party left, the rum came in, and even though the ship was not yet Her Majesty’s property, we in the advance party began to feel part of the Navy again. We moved onboard that night after a last meal in digs—we’d “Got a ship.”


Early next morning, the balance of some 250 men arrived in the yard. after an overnight sleeper trip from Portsmouth in two special trains. Chief Cook Vella and his men had bacon and eggs ready for them. The advance party guided them round like “old hands” and in a very short time all were settled. In came the really important items, like the beer, the Wardroom stores, and the charts; then “UP SPIRITS,” clean ship and muster the Duty Part we were in business.

The climax of the whole proceedings came at 10.45 the next day, 1iiursday. 15th November, 1962. A bitterly cold wind hit us as we marched nine abreast onto the jetty by the ship, led by a Royal Marine Band. The ceremony was watched by Admiral of the Fleet Earl Mountbatten of Burma, Mr. R. W. Johnson (Managing Director, Cammell Laird, the Chaplain of the Fleet, Sir Alfred Sims (Director General dumps). The Mayor of Birkenhead, The Commodore Superintendent Contract Built Ships, five ex-Captains and many other veterans of the previous H.M.S. Devonshire, and over 200 members of the Ships Company’s families.

After a short service conducted by the Chaplain the Fleet, came the reading of the commissioning warrant, and, finally the moment which cannot fail to move even the oldest hands amongst is to time strains of the National Anthem, the White Ensign was slowly hoisted at the Ensign staff for the first time. Now we were really Her Majesty’s Ship Devonshire’s men.

This was the beginning of a commission which during the next eighteen months was to see the ship:

Steam over 60,000 miles
Welcome 45,000 visitors of whom over 70 were of flag rank.
Move north to Greenock, west to Washington south to Trinidad and east to Malta.
Consume over 2,000 gallons of rum and to eat over a third of a million pounds of potatoes.












Admiral of the Fleet, Earl Mountbatten of Burma & Captain Howes
"It's only on loan to you.........I want it back in one piece!"