My god! I am grief charging over this.I as 11 when ordered by LRH to be confined to the chain locker for a week. Cold, wet, numb and in a dark boiler suit, our plates of mush were passed down to us (there was another young girl in there with me), and someone would escort us to the toilet once or twice a day, then we'd have to go back down into it again. I remember how wet and cold the rusty anchor chain felt and how it had a very strong metallic smell which pervaded our clothing.
At the time, a poor unfortunate soul (whom I won't name for his sake) had had a mental breakdown (their Type III) and was under baby watch. He had fallen in love with a girl who spurned his affections, and it really affected him badly. Whilst I sat in the chain locker, I could hear him up above as he was locked up in one of F'ward cabins. He ripped a mattress with his bare hand and teeth, and pulled wooden panelling off the bulkheads. It was frightening and bewilderingvto me. I have never forgotten him, and I only hope that he made it out and is having/has had a good and happy life.