Mrs. Alix Kinross: [Christmas dinner toast] Ladies and gentlemen. I'll begin by taking my husband's advice and wishing you all a very happy Christmas. I'm sure Elizabeth and June will back me up when I say I'd like to deliver, on behalf of all wretched naval wives, a word of warning to Maureen who's been unwise enough to decide to join our ranks. Dear Maureen: we all wish you every possible happiness, but I think it only fair to tell you in advance exactly what you are in for. Speaking from bitter experience I can only say that the wife of a sailor is most profoundly to be pitied. To begin with, her home life, what there is of it, hath no stability whatever. She can never really settle down. She moves through a succession of other people's houses, flats, and furnished rooms. She finds herself having to grapple with domestic problems in Bermuda, Malta, or Weymouth. We will not deal with the question of pay as that is altogether too painful. But we will deal with is the most important disillusionment of all, and that is that wherever she goes there is always in her life a permanently undefeated rival: her husband's ship. Whether it be a battleship or a sloop, a submarine or a destroyer, it holds first place in his heart. It comes before wife, home, children, everything. Some of us try to fight this and get badly mauled in the process. Others, like myself, resolve themselves to the inevitable. That is what you will have to do, my poor Maureen. That is what we all have to do if we want any peace of mind at all. Ladies and gentlemen I give you my rival. It is extraordinary that anyone could be so fond and so proud of their most implacable enemy - this ship. God bless this ship and all who sail in her.
