The Hut
by BobbyG

 

Chapter 1: Peace 1939

Simon Walsh moored up and waved to his father to signal the boat was secure and he could switch the engines off. Together they made a tour of the boat checking that everything was in order including any leakages. All was well and that was the final sea trial before the new boat would be fully equipped with sleeping cabins, seating that could convert into bunks, galley, heads (toilet), electrical, plumbing fittings and storage lockers.

However, that would not happen now, she would be taken out of the water and put back on her cradle. This was 1939 and many hundreds of garages, small engineering firms, garages and boat builders, like Andrew Walsh’s, had been taken over by the government to help in the production of war materials that would be needed to go to war that Britain was ill prepared for. Britain was still trying to rebuild after the massive losses of skilled workers during the Great War and every able man and women would have to forget their preference to live a life of peace and defend that preference against a mad man and a few other mad men who would, collectively, bring the entire world to its knees.

The Nazi dream of world domination would fail, but not before millions would die in the defence of peace.

Andrew Walsh and Son, boat builders, would be constructing hulls for torpedo and gun boats in his workshops in the village of Hamble-le-Rice in Hampshire, a small village going back many centuries and with a long history of living off oyster fishing and boat building. The Hamble River ran into the Southampton Water and from there into the Solent between the south coast and the Isle of Wight. There was a training centre nearby for technicians involved with the Spitfire and would be a major establishment involved with the advances and improvements to that great aircraft for the duration of the war and beyond.

Father and son stood together looking down at the boat. She was a 45ft Motor Yacht of 12 tons. She had a beam of 12ft and a 4ft 5inch draft. Her two Lister Marine Diesel engines would give her a maximum speed of 12 knots with a fuel efficient cruising speed of 8 knots. She had a large forward space that would accommodate a double sleeping cabin, saloon and the galley. Under this deck were two 150 gallon fuel tanks, a new concept that would keep the Yacht at sea for twice as long as other boats of this type. Aft of the forward cabin and directly under the wheel house were the heads and shower cabins. At the stern would be the main sleeping cabin with its own head and shower. Under this cabin was the engine room. She would be named “PEACE.”

“Dad, can we name her before we lift her out? Mum would like the name we chose.” Seventeen year old Simon asked his father.

Andrew Walsh smiled down at him. “Course we will, I will ask the vicar to come down when he’s free. Come on, let’s get home, your turn to cook.”

“It’s always my turn to cook.”

They walked slowly up the steep road towards their cottage which Andrew could only ever do as he only had one leg, the right one had been blown off in the Great War while serving in the Royal Navy. He was the navigating officer on the destroyer HMS Alert when they came under attack by a German E Boat and he was too close when the torpedo went off.

He had been lucky to survive. “Being so fit got me through my boy and that’s why you will get involved in sports.” Fortunately Simon loved football and cricket and although not particularly gifted, both sports meant getting in the showers after each game and that also meant being with the other naked boys and he could not get enough of that. Now that he had left school he had joined the local teams and so the showering continued.

They arrived at their 300 year old cottage and unlatched the thick oak door, it was never locked which was fairly normal in those days. They stepped straight into the one living room with its large open fire to the right with a settee and two armchairs in front of it. To the left was a sort of kitchen with a cooking range some cupboards, A long deep shelf held just about everything from tea caddy to cooking pots and pans and underneath the shelf were hooks to hang a dozen nonmatching mugs and all the cooking ladles spoons and a modern cheese grater. A huge kitchen table with six non matching chairs more or less completed this delightful corner of the cottage. A door to the left lead into the large linney, now called a utility room, which was added on some 100 years previously and had the copper which was a large brick “box” shape with a big hole in the middle lined in zinc. Underneath was a small wood fire that would heat the water for doing the laundry and now that personal hygiene had become more important to even the working classes, doubled as a bath as well. The copper had to be filled by the bucket load from the hand cranked water pump which was over the Belfast sink.

This room was also used to store just about everything, outdoor clothes, Wellington boots, wood and garden tools, spare candles and paraffin for the lamps and logs for the three fires. Andrew Walsh had not got round to having electric power installed.

There was another door leading out to the “crapper” and a large back garden that Simon tended and it supplied all their vegetables as well as apples, pears, plums and cane fruits throughout the year. There were also 10 chickens and a happy Cock scratching around which gave a good supply of eggs and the occasional roast chicken Sunday lunch.

“Right Dad, the choice tonight is heated up beef stew and dumplings, followed by heated up apple crumble and custard or starve.” His father swore at him and Simon dished up.

“So when is all the new stuff coming?”

“Early next week and by the following one we will start. It will be slow at first but we have five new skilled men coming so I think we will make an impression quite soon. You will train on one of the new lathes and there you will be stuck until the end of the war.” Simon was more than competent as he had worked with his father since the age of five when he would play with wood and tools as well as be encouraged to help one of the men as they worked. Now ten years later he was as good as anyone in the work shop. Andrew had also started to teach him how to navigate which would come in handy one day.

“Dad I want to join the navy when I’m old enough.”

“We are not at war yet Simon and it’s up to me if I let you join.”

“Was it up to Granddad when you joined up in the Great War?” Silence was the reply.

“No, you did not have to ask his permission, he expected you to join up. What age can I join?”

“Fifty, now fuck off for your bath it’s getting late.” Simon laughed and left his dad to clear away and wash up.

Simon went out to the linney and felt the water, it was fine and he began to strip off. It was very warm and now naked Simon could take his time before climbing in the tub. He had reached 5ft 7 and he knew there was at least a couple more inches to go before he got to his full height, if his granddad and dad where anything to go by.

Because of his work and sports he was in good shape and very fit. He had a slim, tight body, not muscled at all, just a very pleasing natural build for 1939 boys. He looked down at himself and smiled at his 5.5 inch loose boy bit with its head covered by a full foreskin which bought the shaft to a point. Once erect it would grow another half inch and the foreskin would pull back uncovering the pink head. He knew by comparing his bits to other boys he had rather bigger and lower hung balls than most and he was rather pleased when he saw some other lads having a good look. His pubic area of thick black hair crowned this lovely sight which Simon was rather proud of. He had managed to keep the whole package under control whilst showering with the others in his teams, but it was a struggle.

He sat in the tub and thought of the other lads and his fondness for looking at them and while he was thinking, so his cock stiffened and Simon began to stroke. He did not think of anyone boy in particular but just imagined them all together in the shower as they washed the sweat off from the match. Fifteen naked boys, all in various states of development and, for Simon a sight he would never tire of. He was thoroughly enjoying his wank when suddenly he stiffened and out shot three rather large loads.

“Don’t drain the water I want a bath as well!” His dad called from the living room. Simon could not help it and burst out laughing.

“You’ve tossed off haven’t you, you dirty sod!” Simon continued laughing only louder now.

Still naked and with his clothes over his arm, Simon lit a candle and climbed the ladder to the bedrooms and got into his pajamas, he wrapped a blanket round him and put his thick socks back on and then went back down the ladder. After some time his dad came out also naked and hopped to the ladder and came back dressed like his son. Simon watched his dad who had a huge smile on his face.

“You had one as well didn’t you!” They both laughed and knew this was not the first time it had happened.

“You will be giving the girls that thing soon I suppose, just don’t come home and tell me you have got one of them in the family way.” Simon looked at his dad and said nothing.

“You haven’t already have you?” Simon needed to get off subject.

“No dad and with a war on its way I’m not looking for anyone. The last war nearly killed you and that would have left me unborn. I’m not going to get involved with anyone.” Simon was giving himself good advice, it would not quite work out that way though.

Andrew looked at his son. “I think you’re right about not getting involved. I married mum in 1917 and it was less than a year before I had my leg blown off. You and mum were the best things that ever happened to me, but it could have turned out very differently. I know we lost mum but even she would not change anything if it meant we did not get you.” It had been ten years since his wife had died of TB and the loss would always be there. They were not just father and son; they were work mates, carpenters, boat builders, sailors and best friends.

“I just think it’s a miracle I was born with two legs!” Father and son were well ahead of their time.

Simon’s father of course had no idea that his son was homosexual, even Simon was not that sure and at that time a prisonable offence and guaranteed exclusion from just about everything in society of those days and of course for years to come. To be homosexual you could only possibly get away with it in the cities and be involved in things like the “arts,” they were packed with “queers.” Mind you if you were part of the upper classes you could also live a life involving males. It could almost be seen as an excepted part of upper class society that lower classes could not go anywhere near. It was even rumoured that one of Queen Victoria’s grandsons was involved in homosexual affairs. Why not?

They sat in front of the fire and talked war.

“Do you think we will come through?”

“I really have no idea son, the papers say Germany is well prepared and we aren’t. We still have people who want to make a deal with Germany and get them to agree that they will not invade us so long as we stay out of it. But, even if that happens I would not trust the German’s to keep their word. If they conquer Europe I can’t see them leaving us alone for long and besides they will control us as we could never trade with them or anyone else except on their terms. One of those terms will be to surrender all our military and of course the empire will go as well leaving it to Japan to take over in the East. No, Hitler will have to be defeated, but there is no way we can do that without America getting involved and even they don’t want to according to what I read in the papers, but if they don’t fight, they could find themselves on their own if Hitler takes Europe, Russia and more than likely us. Italy will come in on the German side and with Japan threatening to expand their empire further in the East; it leaves us in the brown stuff to be honest.”

“Will Chamberlin make a good leader if it comes to war?”

“No, all he is doing is trying to appease Hitler. The only man I can see who could possibly lead us is Churchill, but it seems he has more enemies here than in Germany. We will have to wait and see.”

“What if we get the new boat ready, we could always fill her with diesel, food and water and try to get to Canada or America if we get invaded?” Andrew looked at his son and thought about it. They had no family now except themselves and if they escaped at least Simon may have a future.

“Well at least we could start to rig her out; you can do that if you get the time. Meanwhile, its bedtime, bugger off.”

Simon had stopped kissing his dad good night ten years previously but would always give him a hug before climbing the ladder to his room. Andrew had not got round to putting a stair case in and the only way to bed was by ladder as was common in these cottages for hundreds of years.

“Night, Dad.”

“Night, Son.”

The ladder lead directly into Simon’s room and his dad would have to go into it before going through a gap in the 3ft high partition to his room. Before he got into his bed Simon would light a candle in his father’s room every night and then get into his own bed and blow his candle out. There were no windows in the loft and therefore little fresh air circulating meaning there was a permanent smell of wood and smoke from the fires below. Andrew Walsh maybe a master boat builder, home improver, he was not.

Further up the street from Simon’s cottage another seventeen year old was also in bed and quite a long way from sleep. He lay on his back naked and playing with a very hard penis. He stroked himself and at the same time had this image of the naked boy he saw many times in the school showers after every PE lesson. Now he had left school he managed to get into the local football team and in that way he could still be near that boy and see him naked again.

He was near now and after a few more strokes his cock swelled and spewed out four handsome loads that ejaculated into his towel that was always ready to receive his cum, every night.

After he had dried himself off he thought the same thoughts as he did every time he wanked off thinking about Simon Walsh. “Maybe it can happen for real one day.” Spike Smith thought.

Simon lay in bed and listened to his father as he heaved himself up the ladder and hop to his half of the loft. He blew his candle out and now it was pitch black.

He knew his dad always fell asleep quickly and when he heard his steady breathing, had another wank, but this time “selected” a boy to think about… Yep, big Spike Smith! He would kill me if he knew!

He cleaned himself up and once again thought about his problem and knowing full well this was one he could not talk to his father about, he had no idea how he would react if he told him he was homo. Simon was positive he was, even though he had never touched another boy and a boy had never touched him, but knew bloody well he wanted both.

 

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