It's PP1 Time!






Sailors in the RAN were reported upon by their immediate supervisors every 6 months - These reports known as PP1s were critical to a sailors career and advancement and a couple of poor ones could set you back years on the promotion roster. And a series of very poor ones could see preliminary discharge proceedings implemented.


Never in the RAN did a form cause so much angst as the dreaded PP1, PP1A or PERS1. Of course the corporate world has been using Personal Reporting procedures for many years now but I seriously doubt they would use criteria such as this PP1 Form from the 1960's and 1970's. This PP1 form and reporting criteria was phased out in 1975. Some of the criteria and descriptions in the reporting boxes on this form have to be seen to be believed.


The form was divided into 5 Sections, scoring between 1-10 for each section. The scores for each of the five sections were added up to produce an overall total. A total PP1 score in the mid 30's was considered ok but I knew many sailors in these days who scored in the low 20's and even in the Teens, consistently. Believe me there were some very hypocritical naval officers marking and counselling sailors on their 'personal qualities and morals'.


It was 1970 aboard HMAS DERWENT that one ABUC 'Sludge' Budden took his turn to go down to 3J Officers Cabin Flat and have his half yearly 'session' with his Divisonal Officer, Ship's TASO, Leut Wally Criddle, RAN and view and sign his PP1 Report.  Leut Criddle showed Sludge his PP1 which wasn't too flattering.  In fact it was in the low 20s.   Sludge appeared umoved, he just wanted to sign the damned thing and get out of there.   Wally then launched into one of those 'father & son' type speeches that is expected of good, fatherly, Divisional Officers.


'Able Seaman Budden', he said. 'I was just like you once.  But I pulled myself up by my bootstraps and I worked and studied hard'.


Wally straightened up, puffed out his chest. 


'Now look at me, I am an Officer in the R.A.N.'


Sludge looked at him, still umoved and expressionless.


'Well Sir', said Sludge matter of factly, You need your firkin head read'.