RMC Annual Review 2020-21 digital (1) - Flipbook - Page 30
A Brief History of the Royal Marines Association
President, RMA
Hanworth branch
been plunged in their youth into an extensive
five years of privation, extreme danger,
adventure and travel far from home.
I was invited to become president of RMA
Hanworth around 1991 — upon the death
of Col Dai Morgan who had been the gaffer
at Twickenham RFU, and thus a hard act
to follow. I remained Hanworth president
for the next 24 years, until we moved to
Plymouth. I have so many memories of
the branch, virtually all good ones.
The ingrained habit of
camaraderie formed
in those years did not
fade. The club was
a hive of activity.
It was only on leaving the Corps after 33 years’
service that I came to realise the meaning of
the edict “once a Marine always a Marine”.
Here are some thrown together memories:
The RMA annual dinner was a high point, —
with VIP guests, and an RM Cadet (Kingston)
guard of honour beforehand, speeches and
toasts. Then there was a summer fair, with
games for children and local produce. At
Christmas there was a packed Carol service
– with Father Christmas on a sledge and a
lady’s choir in Welsh bonnets. To brighten
each January a team created very fine sods
operas. How can the audience ever forget
the appalling and side-splitting sight of
eight septuagenarian gents advancing as
the Spice Girls (who had apparently been
rescued from a coach accident on the M3),
or 80-year-old Dick Howard, survivor of the
wartime tugs, capering around in Tudor kit,
singing “Henry the eighth, I am — I am.” So
many good performances over the years.
It was a well-run branch. The central figure
was undoubtedly the late Arthur Ansell
(see his autobiography — “From Boy to
Bootneck”). He was a wartime Royal Marine,
Portsmouth ex, who served throughout in
the RM detachment of HMS Nelson. Arthur
had been the founder secretary of the branch
some 20 years before, using his network as a
successful local barber to muster the hands,
ever supported by his lovely wife Val.
RMA Hanworth had and has a very good
base in the RNA club house at Hanworth,
which they shared with a large and active
RNA branch, under the presidency of Captain
Peter Hames RN, who became and remains a
good friend. Also enjoying this base was the
Submarine service branch, the Fleet Air Arm
branch, and a very gallant Tugs and Small
Ships branch (not the correct terminology).
So many were World War II veterans.
Arthur had forged links by being a most
active and well-regarded honorary welfare
representative for the whole club. There
was much camaraderie across the different
branches of the service; and there was constant
activity — much of it Ansell generated.
Then there were regular weekly dos, the tea
dances which kept folk fit, quizzes, the rambles
and the pub lunches; the annual long weekend
in the Isle of Wight. In 2005 fell the bicentenary
of Trafalgar. I took, and just passed the test to
drive a people carrier. Luckily Colin O’Brien
in the lead bus knew the way from Hanworth
to Greenwich, and we went to the great Nelson
exhibition at the Maritime Museum. My
passengers were occasionally alarmed.
Thus in my early 50s I found myself
increasingly acquainted with what I can only
describe as “the best of British”. Many of
these men and their ladies and grown up in
Hanworth pre-war, captivated then married
each other’s girlfriends, played truant from
school together. And then, because of Adolf,
In November at Remembrance time there was
a different tone. Controlled by the British
Legion we marched to Hanworth Memorial to
lay our wreaths. Stalwarts volubly expressed
their dismay at the length and tone of the
sermon. Then back to the club house for a
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www.rma-trmc.org
further commemoration in our own garden
of remembrance, our spirits lifted by several
bevvies. Thus it was latterly in Hanworth
that we met the Gurkhas from Southall, and
started some sort of link. I remember going
across to make ourselves known to them,
finding the Victoria Cross on the chest of an
elderly veteran. That was an experience.
The RMA has always retained a capacity to
reinvent itself. A particular dynamism was
brought to bear with the arrival of Brigadier
Charlie Hobson as the CEO (as opposed to
secretary), taken on board in 2005 by the
then chairman the late Paddy Dunn and
President Simon Hill. It was a game changing
moment. Information technology was
deployed fortissimo, and up and down the
land all branches became conscious of the
energy generated from the centre. There was
a new and stronger emphasis on fundraising
for RM charities to meet the challenges of
the post 9/11 wars. At Hanworth we enjoyed
particular USPs with the proximity of the
Harlequins at the Stoop Stadium (their rugby
league team had an ex-RM coach) and the
Second Division soccer team at Brentford.
Our new chairman Mark Richards had links
with the former, and our ever-industrious
new secretary Brian Briers with the latter.
The support of RMR London, now based at
Wimbledon, helpfully provided demonstration
assets. Much money was collected for our
charities at matches — and much good rugby
and football was enjoyed. Nor do I forget
the cold hours spent outside Tesco’s and
Morrison’s in the company of the likes of Ken
Allen and Colin O’Brien. The problem for our
outskirts of London branch was shrinking
membership, as anno domini took its toll. It
is my perception that succeeding generations
are less inclined to join voluntary associations,
busy pursuing second careers and paying
mortgages. At Brentford we resorted to
extreme measures. I supported Commando
999 through two of their heroic round London
speed marches, and went to the subsequent
dinners, hawking around branch membership
forms from table to table. We gleaned
three new younger members, but they only
managed a handful of meetings. Sic transit…
Through all those years we had our monthly
meetings. Minutes were taken and approved,
accounts were scrutinised, mail from
homesick members now based abroad was
read out, and most importantly the welfare
representative reported on the sick and the old
and homebound. Sadly, over time we attended
many funerals, parading our Standard, and
giving tributes, with wakes to follow – often
in the clubhouse. I was often reminded of the
comment of the late President LBJ, who on
retirement said he was returning home;
“to a place where they
know when you are
ill, and care when you
die.” That is the RMA.
One project that I remain proud of was the
Oral History pilot which I conducted back in
2004/5. In this way I really got much closer to
the heart of the extraordinary experiences of
a small group of my members: in no particular
order. Ted Syer who was in the HMS Prince
of Wales detachment that took Churchill to
Québec; Todd Ravenhill – who as a devout
young Catholic gave mass to fellow Catholics
just before D-Day; Arthur Ansell who saw
HMS Eagle go down in three minutes when
he came up for a breather from loading
ammunition on Operation Pedestal; Pat
Whitty who witnessed the Japanese surrender
in Singapore; and John Marshall, a 15 year old
bugler on the open bridge of a cruiser under
Stuka attack in the Atlantic, sounding the
“Alarm to Arms.” Thus I got to understand
better the strength of the camaraderie.
I hope that I have conveyed the virtues of a
particular RMA branch, surely echoed up
and down the UK and abroad. The privilege
of being an RMA branch president for 25
years had a great and beneficial personal
impact. I and Jenny made and keep good
friends from our Hanworth days.
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