Corky Gregory captures Bob Alvey, glancing up from his patient labours sifting and picking through the dirt looking for those elusive little snails. As Corky says, it looks as though he's in tent.
I recall Bob giving me fascinating accounts of the activities of, and conditions endured by, Royal Navy submariners from his days under the sea. I think the subtext was, in some degree, "If you think Ullenwood's a bit spartan, young Parker, try one of Her Majesty's submarines." I remember him talking to me about the cramped accommodation after I'd been to visit the Royal Navy Submarine Museum at Gosport where I'd seen one of the submarines of the class in which he'd served. Sleeping on torpedo tubes can't have been comfortable. He was mildly dismissive of more modern types of submarine that had cissie things like bunks installed with the comfort of the crew in mind.
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