A tick, the sign entered against an offender's name in the cadet captain 's notebook, was for minor misdemeanours.
A cadet might earn a tick for having a food stain on his uniform jacket on parade, for dodging a cold bath in the
morning, for talking while dressing, for not being fully dressed seven minutes after reveille, for having his blazer
collar turned up when it should be down, for not saluting, for not running, for not walking, for not standing to
attention, for being where he ought not to be, or for giving a general impression of slackness: the breakable rules
were extensive.
When three ticks had been accumulated, the culprit was summoned from his bed after lights out, marched to the wash-room
lobby and there, across a taut, pyjama 'd backside, chastised with at least three sharp cuts with the cadet captain
's cane. The cadet was now in the clear - if he acquired another three ticks in the same term he would be beaten
again, this time more severely, but come the end of term any residue of ticks would be erased
I was nineteen when I received my last caning. This was for failing to spot a senior officer approaching the ship
when I was midshipman of the watch. The punishment was given by the president of the mess, a sub-lieutenant two
or three years older than me, who ruled the twenty of us with a firm hand. Ours was a tough but genial bloke, a
rugger player of distinction and not to be trifled with. Down in the bowels of the ship, in the midshipmen 's washroom,
I was required to lower my trousers and bend over the bath.
'By command of their Lordships, in the name of His Majesty, and in the interests of the Service, you are hereby
awarded six cuts. '
The first five, I knew, would be fairly light but the sixth was meant to hurt, and did, and made me wince. I knew
the weal would need several days to mend. When I was dressed, the sub proffered his right hand. 'Slate clean. No
ill feeling. In the mess in five minutes - a gin on me.' A bit of badinage over a drink and the incident was closed.
(Personal memoir)