Sorry, the first attempt was sadly cut short.
Throughout 1942, the huge cruise liner Queen Mary was used to ferry wartime travellers across the Atlantic Ocean. She sailed every seven days, taking troops from New York to Liverpool, and refugees from England to USA.
The ship was operated at maximum capacity, that meant 15,000 soldiers cramped into her 1250 cabins. To enable this, the troops were organised into 3 "shifts", as one man got out of bed, another got in. The shifts were divided into 8 "hours" and each took a turn in the washrooms, canteens, lounges, gym, and on deck. But it was the beds that were most precious.
On the westward journey, most of the refuges were orphaned children, and evacuees whose families were either fighting overseas or too ill to look after them. Some elderly folk, wounded troops, and other non- combatants were also shipped west. The children could not be expected to adopt the troop routine of shift-sleeping, and so all kids were put to bed at night. Smaller ones were put two, or even three to a bed. The adults were then allowed to sleep in the beds during the day.
Some adults, of course, were needed to supervise, educate, and amuse the children on the week-long cruise. These were recruited from the passengers, and trained by a specially selected ship's officer, known as the "Commander". He also saw to the maintenance of safety and discipline. The selected adults were known as cabin-parents, and had enormous powers.
But the biggest priority for the ship was the safety of those critical beds. A committee had been formed to plan for the operation, and they had decided that the only secure solution was to issue every child with rubber pants. The committee considered that many of the children would have been traumatised, unlikely to have sailed before, unsure of where the toilets were, scared to get up in the night, and so might be likely to wet the bed. Also, they concurred, having children wandering around at night was dangerous, better to have them restricted to their cabins. So nappies would be needed.
The committee designed and ordered 15,000 pairs of terry cloth short trousers, and 10,000 pairs of rubber pants, with elasticated waist and legs. Sizes were small (age 3-7) medium (ages 8 – 11) and senior (ages 12 to 16). A few "sturdy" pairs were also ordered, for very fat children, or as one committee member joked `any drunken sailors'. The committee, mindful of the shortage of rubber – needed for truck tyres, seals on submarines, and countless other military items – agreed to accept whatever was available. The supplier could only obtain bright red rubber, which was then moulded into thick pants.
The terry short trousers - what modern parents would call `pull-ups' - were made of two layers of terry cloth, and had an elasticated waist. The two layers were only joined at the waist; so after washing the outer layer could be hung up by the groin, and the inner layer pulled down to facilitate drying. There was a loop sewn into the groin to enable easy hanging, and numerous rows of pegs were installed in the ship's boiler room. Pegs were also fitted on the stern quarterdeck, to enable outdoor drying if the weather was suitable. Three young women were appointed to do the washing, chosen because they were known to be scrubbers.
The only problem was, compliance. The Commander was charged to ensure that all children on board wore their nappy and rubber pants throughout the night.
Martin Turney was 43 years old, and moderately wealthy. He had turned his small radio manufacturing factory over to the Ministry of Defence at the start of the war, and had worked in it as manager until it was bombed in November 1941. Now, he had been ordered to New Jersey, to assist in the development of a new factory out of range of enemy airplanes. This was his first crossing of the Atlantic, and he considered it would probably be his last. Martin wore a smart tweed suit, and a bowler hat.
When the ticket clerk had asked him to become a cabin-parent, he had had reservations. But when the clerk told him of his duties, and modest compensation, Martin had become more interested. The reward was that he got to stay in his cabin, while other adults were obliged to sleep in the beds that the boys had used during the night, and had to hang around on deck in the dark, looking out for periscopes!
But it was neither the work nor privileges which swayed the bachelor; it was the clerk's final remark. "You will be expected to punish the boys in your cabin, and if you need assistance the ship's crew will help out."
Martin had always had a fondness for smacking little bottoms, but rarely had the opportunity. As owner of a factory, he often employed boys, from age 14, and always offered any junior miscreant a spanking rather than the sack. His young workers quickly learnt to behave, and work hard, as Martin's spankings were to be avoided. However, these older boys were very reluctant to bare their buttocks, and so Martin used a heavy strap across the seat of their trousers. Oh, he hurt them. Made sure that they cried, but what he really wanted was to smack a bare bum.
So Martin agreed to become a cabin-parent. He would sleep in a bunk in a cabin with three other men, and his eight boys would be top-and- tail in the adjoining cabin. The other men's boys were either next door or across the gangway. Girls had berths on the deck above.
Martin met his boys on the pier on the evening before sailing. The ship had to re-fuel, stock-up with food, and wait for a convoy to form before embarking on the risky crossing. U-Boats were having a good time, and many ships were being lost. The boys had to be trained in evacuation procedure, and settled in to their life on board. Martin had already unpacked in his cabin, and had checked the boys cabin was clean. The nappies and rubber pants were in a trunk which was in the middle of the adult's cabin, and also served as a card- table.
It was almost dark when the boys were marched from their waiting room to the quayside, and they were ready for supper. There was a chill in the spring evening air, and mist was rising from murky waters. Martin studied them as they approached, he had already read their files that had been left in his cabin, and almost knew each boy before he met them.
"Welcome to the Queen Mary. I am Mr Turney, but you will call me Sir. You will obey me at all times" Martin quoted the speech he had been asked to read. "This ship is a dangerous place, and we are sailing into hostile waters" The boys were now scared. "If you misbehave, you could not only lose your own life, you might alert the enemy to our position, and get us all sunk. I have been authorised to punish you, and that will be by a spanking on your bare bottom. That is the instruction from the ship's commander."
Martin surveyed the boys.
John was 12, tall, thin, pale blond hair and white skin with bright blue eyes. He was an orphan, having been the only survivor of a bomb on his Leicester home. He had been in a children's home for 3 months, and was generally happy, made friends easy, and quite polite. John wore a grey pullover and wide grey shorts, with knee-high grey socks and well-worn black shoes. His grey shirt was open-necked, hanging out at the waist, and his white underwear was visible. His school cap was entirely red, apart from a faded badge on the front. It did not seem to match the uniform at all.
Mark was 11, from Liverpool. His dad was a docker, and worked at least 12 hours a day. When his mother died from TB, Mark had been taken into care. There were no other family to look after him, but he did have a cousin in New York who had agreed to foster the boy. Mark's dad was there to see him off, and spoke to Martin. Mark was also dressed entirely in grey, except Mark's uniform had a brown and yellow trim at collar, cuffs, and tops of his long socks. Mark had a school-boy cap with brown and yellow hoops.
"Be sure to watch him, he can be a little scally at times" (Liverpool word, means rascal) "Make sure he feels the back of your hand" The rough labour gestured a slap across the boy's head.
"I'll take good care of him, but if he needs to be punished it'll be his backside I slap" Martin shook the huge docker's hand, who smiled warmly. He also agreed to escort the lad all the way to the cousin's house, and to ensure the boy was happily settled. The big man was not too big to hug and kiss his beloved only son, and both parted with damp eyes.
Ralph was six. His brothers Terry and Tommy were twins aged nine. All three boys were red-haired, freckled, and grubby. They had been evacuated from London during the early days of the war, and now had no home or family to go back to. Their middle-aged evacuee family had had to give them up when their own son had been wounded in the head, and now needed constant attention. He was considered unsuitable to be near children, as he screamed in the night and flew into dramatic rages. The boys were of Irish descent, and had been offered a home with some Catholic Irish families in the mid-west. All three boys wore a dark blue pullover over white shirt, and blue corduroy shorts. They had long grey socks and brown sandals.
Kevin was 15, muscular, and mature. He had been working in a bakery until his home – and single mother - had been blown up by a bomb. Kevin had been keen to stay at his work, and live in the shed in his garden. Social services would not allow it, and insisted that he be sent to Maine where he had a Great Aunt. Kevin wore a white short- sleeved shirt, long black trousers, and carried a donkey-jacket. He was wearing a loose cloth cap, just like the dockers and miners wore.
Jack was also 15, but thin and wiry. He had been at boarding school since the age of 8. Now he was to attend a Georgia Military Academy. Jack's Scottish father had been captured at Dunkirk, and his French mother had been engaged in war-work (which later would be revealed to be espionage in occupied France). Jack was a natural leader, although as his house-master quickly learned, he often led boys into mischief. Jack was dressed in his boarding school uniform, Blue and white striped blazer, long grey trousers, and straw boater.
Peter was about six. He was small, dark-skinned (for a white boy) and had black hair. Peter was probably of eastern European origin, maybe Polish, but nobody knew, He had been found three years earlier, wandering the docks at Hull. He had been able to say his name, but spoke no other words, in any language. Peter had been the subject of much media interest, but his parents, and story, were never discovered. Now he was to be moved to an orphanage in Chicago, where it was hoped a Polish family would adopt him. Peter's clothes from his foundling days were carefully packaged and handed to Martin for safe keeping. The labels were all Polish, and they were his only link to his culture, and his passport to a new family. Peter was wearing a sailor-suit, white top with square-cut neck, very brief white shortpants, and white ankle socks. There was a blue trim around every edge of his clothing. Peter had a grey duffel coat, which was not fastened, and although short, hid the hem of his shortpants, so that from the rear he appeared to have no trousers on at all.
The eight boys had been subdued when they first met Martin, but had quickly become excited as he led them from the pier onto the ship. Martin took them straight to the dining room, and the boys were seated at a table. He ordered them to stay in their chairs. In the days of luxury cruises, a steward would have waited on them. Now, in wartime, the cabin-parent collected a tray from a hatch by the kitchen door. It contained nine sets of bowls, spoons, and cups. There was a large pan of stew, a ladle, and 10 bread rolls (another perk for the cabin-parent) Finally there was a tea-pot, and small jug of milk, sugar-bowl, and a tea-spoon. Martin was reminded that he must ensure every item was returned.
Whilst waiting in line for his tray, Martin noticed the two smallest boys, Ralph and Peter, slip off their seats, and crawl under the table. They were back in their original seats when he returned.
Martin placed the tray in the centre of the table, and ladled stew into a bowl. He passed it to the first boy, and ordered the lad to pass it on. Eventually each child had a bowl of stew, and after a short grace, they tucked in. Martin watched them feed gluttonously. Times were hard and food was scarce. He gave both of his rolls to the biggest two boys, Kevin and who gratefully took them. Soon there was nothing edible remaining.
Around them, thousands of other children were noisily repeating the process. Afterwards, Martin ordered the two eldest boys to carefully carry the tray back to the hatch.
"Ralph" Martin looked at the youngest red-head. The boy looked up, but did not speak.
"Did you hear me say that you were to stay in your seat?"
"Yes Sir"
"Peter"
"Yes Sir"
"Did you hear me say it?"
"Yes Sir"
"So, why did you boys crawl under the table?"
No answer.
"You boys will obey me at all times. If you don't you will be punished. Ralph, come here"
The scared child slid off his seat, and cautiously approached the big man's right side. Martin gently put his right arm around the boy's waist, and pressed him to his thigh. One shove in the back, and the little fellow was over his knee. Martin quickly pulled the legs of Ralph's shorts up, exposing all of the boy's thighs and a good portion of lower buttock.
SMACK. Martin landed a hefty swipe on the middle of the little child's right thigh.
"Ow" The boy shed tears at once, but did not move.
The whole dining room suddenly hushed. Heads spun to see the cause of the yelp.
SMACK. The left thigh got it's treatment.
"Ow" Ralph now wiggled. Kids at the far end of the enormous room strained to see.
Smack. Smack Smack. 3 quick, but not so hard swats arrived on Ralph's right leg, getting higher.
"Please, stop it " Ralp wailed.
Smack. Smack Smack. 3 more swats this time on Ralph's left leg.
"I'm sorry, please" Ralph realised his turn was over, and quickly got up. Tears were streaming down his face, and his hands briskly rubbed his reddened thighs.
Peter realised that his turn had come. He bravely walked around the table. Every footstep watched by a thousand pairs of eyes. Finally he arrived at the big man's leg, and climbed aboard without invitation.
Martin was most impressed. Cleary those years in care had been peppered with punishments. The boy knew that taking it like a man was the best option. He felt obliged to put on a good show.
SMACK. There was no need to raise Peter's short-pants leg, the garment was so small that his buttocks were peeping out already. Martin could clearly see the bottom of the little boys underpants. Now he could see a perfect imprint of his hand on the tiny child's leg.
"OW" Peter might have been brave to position himself, but he was not going to take this quietly.
SMACK. The left thigh got a matching image. The polished floor got a pair of tears.
SMACK. SMACK. SMACK. Was Martin slowing. Or perhaps hitting harder. The staring children did not seem to notice the pace had slowed. Peter screamed at each impact, but did not beg or wiggle.
SMACK. SMACK. SMACK. Peter also sensed that his turn was over. He stood up, and clutched his scalding legs.
"Sorry, Sir" he sniffled.
"Thank you, let's forget it now" Martin ruffled the little boy's hair, then stood up and took his hand. Peter stopped rubbing, and waited obediently with his new master.
Jack and Kevin returned from the hatch, and the audience turned to their bowls.
"Come along, boys, I'll show you to your cabin. Put your chairs neatly under the table, and pick up your bags." All eight boys did so.
Ralph immediately took Martin's other hand, and the great man with two smacked toddlers led his party out of the dining room. He returned the approving nods from fellow cabin-parents, and was certain that he heard another smack land somewhere across the room.
Martin took his band of boys to the stern of the ship and then down many flights of stairs to their berth. As they went down, the passageways got narrower, and the doors changed from panelled oak to plain wood, and then to metal doors with a rubber seal around the frame. The short corridor had six rooms, three on each side, but one was . five rooms had bunks, and the one beneath the stairs was a toilet with two sinks and two cubicles. The four corner rooms were to be used for boys, the middle one, directly opposite the stairs, was for the adults.
Finally Martin led the troop into a white-painted room with two bunks on each side. There were drawers under the lower bunks, and a small folding table between them, with a cupboard underneath. Above the table was a round window, held shut with two big brass screws.
Martin allowed to two older boys to choose a bunk each, and they chose the top ones. Martin then announced that the two younger boys would sleep in the other end of the top bunks, to give each child as much space as possible.
The twins were to share a lower bunk, at their request, and that just left Mark and John to share the remaining bunk. Martin decided to let the boys unpack alone, to get to know each other, before dropping the bomb-shell on them. He went into his cabin next door, and smoked a cigarette, carefully blowing the exhaled fumes through the open port- hole window.
Other parties of boys could be heard in the corridor, and entering their respective rooms, but nobody came to Martin's quarters. Martin had not yet met his room-mates.
After a while, Martin heard the noise level rising, and guessed it was time to take control. He picked up a large pair of rubber pants, huge nappy, and marched purposely into his boys cabin. Martin knew where to start.
"Sit" He barked as he stood at the open doorway. All the boys jumped, not expecting this sudden command, they all quickly sat on the lower bunks.
Martin pointed to a notice which was attached to the back of the cabin door, and had a mass of small print. In larger letters, it simply stated "Children will be punished if they endanger themselves, other passengers, or the ship"
"I want you all to read these rules. Jack, you will read them out for the little ones, and explain the meaning."
"Yes Sir" Jack realised that he was being made, in his words, a Prefect. He liked the idea.
"Now, to protect the beds, all children will wear these protective clothes every night." Martin held up the terry short trousers and rubber pants.
The two little ones, Peter and Ralph, looked relaxed. For them, bedwetting was still a problem, and they had been concerned about it. This was a welcome development.
The twins, Terry and Tommy, were amused, but not really concerned. They did not see any problem with a bit of dressing up. Mark and John were somewhat taken aback, however, they did not dare to disagree.
Kevin and Jack had completely opposite reactions. Jack was shocked, immediately realised what had been said, and the implications. He was 15, and was going to be put into nappies.
Kevin thought it was hilarious. He grinned at the twins, and tussled the hair of Mark, who was next to him.
"Don't worry, Mister" I'll see to it that the little ones have their nappies changed" Kevin mocked.
"I don't think you understand" Martin explained " I said all children, and that includes you"
"What?" Kevin was stunned. "I'm not a kid. I had a job! If you think you're pushing me around, you'll get a bit of this" Kevin waved a fist at Martin.
Martin, of course, had been expecting this reaction. "Oh, I see. Would you like to come into the adult's cabin?" He smiled.
Kevin was taken aback. He had been expecting an argument, now he was being moved into the adult's living space. Life was good.
Martin stepped aside, and Kevin got his bag out of the cupboard. The boy walked into the men's quarters, closely followed by his guardian, now his equal. There was a step at the bottom of the watertight door.
Suddenly martin pushed the big boy, and he tumbled headfirst onto the floor, tripping over the step and grazing his shin on the cold hard steel lip. Martin leapt on top of the surprised child, pinning him face-down to the ground. Martin was squatting on the boy's back, and leaned forward to press the boy's shoulders firmly to the floor.
"Get off me" the boy screamed. Kevin wiggled, thrashed his legs about, and tried to get hold of Martin's head. Martin pressed the boys head harshly onto the floor, and Kevin turned to his left to avoid his nose being flattened.
"Now you just listen to me, boy" Martin roared down the boys ear. "On this ship I am your boss. You will obey me at all times, and if you don't I'll smack your bare bottom. Is that clear?"
"_f_u_c_k_ off you old fart" Kevin was not ready to admit defeat. He kicked his legs wildly, and caught Martin a few blows on his spine.
"Right then, time for your first spanking" Martin took the boy's left arm, and twisted it up his back.
"Ow. Stop it" Kevin squealed. Martin now took the boy's right arm, and twisted that to join the other. He held the boy's thumbs in one hand, and pulled a short piece of rope from his jacket pocket with the other. His army training from the Great War was finally coming in useful. The boy's wrists were quickly bound together, and Martin got up.
"Let me go" Kevin cried. The seven other boys had by now all appeared at the door, and were most impressed, but very scared.
Martin sat on his bunk, and dragged the wayward child towards his knees. Shoes, trousers, underwear, and socks were pulled from the wriggling boy. Finally the half-naked – and, Martin had to admit, well-developed young man -was hauled over the knee. Once Kevin's legs were secured, the spanking could get underway.
Any get under way it did. Large, heavy, deliberate, forceful slaps were delivered to Kevin's bare bottom - each one echoing around the tiny metal cabin. Each smack was leaving a huge red handprint, and extracting a painful howl from the offended child.
It took a long time to break the boy. Martin was prepared to invest heavily. The spanking went on and on, smack followed stinging smack. Martin was flushed, tiring, but determined. If he lost this battle, he lost the war.
Kevin was screaming obscenities, tensing his muscles and squirming violently. He was not going to take this lying down. But Martin had his legs pinned and hands tied. Martin was gasping for air, and sweating profusely, but still managing to get slap after slap onto the wicked child's buttocks and thighs.
Kevin, however, was running out of steam. His struggles had weakened his ability to resist, and finally he broke. Great big tears flowed freely down his reddened face. Kevin's heart burst, he sobbed, slobbered, and went limp.
Finally Martin stopped smacking him, and collapsed back onto the bunk. Kevin just lay over his Master's knees, weeping pitifully. The boys at the door backed off, but stood in awe.
After a while, nobody knows how long, Martin pulled the spanked boy to his feet. Words were not required. Martin untied the lad's wrists, and Kevin rubbed his bruised buttocks. Martin held out the terry short trousers, and Kevin stepped into them. Together they pulled the pants up. Martin held out the rubber pants, and Kevin compliantly stepped into them. This time he let Martin pull the rubber pants up, and waited until the elastic waist was twanged onto his naked tummy.
Martin was still sitting on his bunk, the nappy-clad crying teenager was standing at his side. What happened next just seemed so natural, that nobody thought it odd. Martin spun Kevin round, and Kevin sat on the old man's lap. Martin rocked back, and the boy was cuddled. Forgiven, soothed, settled.
Martin looked at the boys at the door. There seemed to be many more than just his seven.
"Jack" He ordered.
"Yes Sir" the teenager responded.
"Give each boy a pair of rubber pants and shorts, from that hamper"
"Yes Sir" Jack complied at once. The items were all clearly labelled, and soon each boy was holding his own pair of terry shorts and rubber pants.
"Go and use the toilet, wash your faces, then get ready for bed" Martin commanded. I'll be in to check on you all in ten minutes"
"Yes Sir" the seven boys chimed as they dashed for the door.
"You need to wash as well" Martin gently pushed the big boy to his feet.
"Yes Sir" Kevin mumbled "Sorry"
"It's OK, son. I know you've had a tough time." Martin ruffled the boy's hair. This war was producing casualties in every quarter, he mused.
Kevin collected his clothes, and ambled into the next cabin. He looked quite ridiculous in his white shirt, donkey jacket, and huge red rubber pants.
"Oh well" he thought "it is for the war effort."
The corridor was swarming with boys.
Comments welcomed