“I Knew a Bank Where the Wildflowers Grew……”
My father was a naval engineer and during WWII he alternated between active service and re-building battleships, often also camouflaging them with paint to look like a destroyer and a frigate with a gap in the middle exactly where the engine room was positioned to deflect enemy attention. More on camouflage later. At five or six years old after the war ,I would be taken down the hatchways on board ship to experience the actual engines deep in the ship’s belly. Down past the galley and the rich smell of baking bread. On down past the steam filled laundry and the scent of soap washed clean sailors. the I remember the vibrations, the pistons moving rhythmically, the noise of all the different parts meshing together, the smell of engine oil,