The Road to Madison Square

I shall start with the Page family with a few details which have been passed on to me by word of mouth, or have been gleaned from old documents.

According to the marriage certificate of my Great Grandfather, Henry George Kemmenoe, both he and his father were employees of The East India Trading Co. in London. The certificate shows that Henry married Elizabeth Elisa Cannon, with her father being listed as a baker. Henry George Kemmenoe is shown as an agent of the East India Trading Company whilst his father is shown as an officer in East India House in London. On a family tree of the Kemmenoe's there is a pencil notation besides his wife’s name showing “nurse”. The family originated in Prussia which is now known as Poland. According to a register of the derivation of surnames the origin of “Kemmenoe” is unknown.

My grandmother was born in 1857 in Boulogne, a seaport on the coast of France. She was the third child of the marriage; two other children who were born earlier had died in June 1857 just before she was born. Her family came to England when she 7 or 8 years of age. At that stage she could only speak French. I do not know the reasons for the move but I believe her father operated some sort of shipping service across the English Channel. Also it was only a couple of years before the German -Franco War and being of German descent, maybe he did not wish to get involved in any way.

I know little of my grandfather’s background but I know my father and his brothers and sisters were raised in a wooden, terrace house in Mill Lane in Teston, just outside the village of Farleigh, not far from the town of Maidstone in the county of Kent.

According to the census records of 1901 my grandfather Frederick Page was a cricket ball maker. It also shows that my grandmother, Sarah was born in France and was a British Subject. My great, great, grandfather was a gardener and in the 1850’s my great, great, great grandfather was a Beadle in the village of Gouldhurst in Kent and lived in a building called "The Chequers." I understand that my father and his brothers and sisters were all christened in Saint Margaret’s Church in Westminster. I do not know the reason for this, maybe there was a desire to prove their loyalty to the English Crown or there was some other association with Central London.

I understand grandfather had been well-educated in a time when few of the population received any schooling. There was never any reference to my grandfather’s relations. Maybe he was unhinged in some way and they did not want anything to do with him.

An item that could have had some influence on this supposition was the story that if he had a falling out with his wife he would go to a bridge over the river Medway stating that he was going to commit suicide. Apparently this behaviour was not uncommon and neighbours on hearing the commotion would turn out to watch. He would go to the bridge and jump into the river and having made his point he would swim to the river bank, climb out of the water and make his way home.

I visited grandfather’s home in Mill Lane once or twice before he died, which I think was in 1937 or 1938. As the local farmer owned the cottage where my grandparents lived it is reasonable to assume that my grandfather also worked on the farm where the main crop was hops with some cherry orchards. I know my grandmother worked there at hop picking time.

The houses in Mill Lane did not have running water but in the walkway that went along the back of the row of houses was a hand-operated water pump. Conveniently for the Page family the water pump was situated just outside their back door in the yard cum walkway. Directly opposite the pump was a large concrete tub at least a couple of meters square, a roof had been built over the tub and jutted out over the sides. On the far side of the tub was a built -in copper complete with a fire place to heat the water. Each Monday the women of the terrace sat on the raised rim of the concrete tub and washed the previous week’s laundry. The washing was done by hand with the aid of scrubbing boards and brushes. No matter what the weather, Mondays were always washday and while the women worked the sound of their voices filled the air as they gossiped amongst themselves while the steam from the hot water billowed around them.

I remember the house in Mill Lane had wooden weatherboard cladding on the outside; bright red roses on the wallpaper on the stairs and in the living room a round table with brass feet. Kerosene lamps provided the lighting in the house. One of these lamps had a glass container which held the kerosene; this container had raised coloured flowers which twinkled whenever the flame of the lamp flickered. After grandfather died my parents acquired this lamp and up until 1946 it was the sole source of light in our living room. It was by this light during the dark evenings that I did my home work. It also provided all the light for my mother’s needlework and knitting and for my father to read the newspaper.

My grandmother, Sarah, was born in 1857 and was in her late seventies when I knew her. She was a large woman of above average height with a big, round face and high cheekbones. Her hair was white and scraped back into a bun. She always wore a white blouse with a long black skirt which reached to the ground. I cannot recall any details regarding Grandfather Frederick’s dress. The main thing I remember is he had a long white beard, and on falling asleep in a chair with his mouth wide open he could produce a very loud snore.

The row of houses fronted onto the lane and there was no garden in the front of them. A small garden was situated behind the wash house copper, Vegetables were grown in the main garden across Mill Lane and I recall picking up potatoes as grandfather dug them. At the end of the lane just beyond the farm gate stood a series of oast houses used for drying hops. On the side of the lane where the vegetable garden was situated the land sloped down to the river Medway, this portion of the river was just below a series of locks.

The piece of bank that constituted part of the boundary of the Medway was just downstream from the rivers locks. It was here my father fished and, on one occasion, he caught a pike. I believe the owner of the river liked his tenants to catch pike due to the pike’s habit of eating other fish. I was told that it was in this part of the river Medway that the first person to swim the English Channel spent many hours training.

Not long after his death grandmother moved to live with her daughter and her husband, Don and Daisy Guthrie, who lived at 12 Broad Lane, Bettshanger, near Deal on the Kent coast.

The surname of my maternal grandparents was Prichard. Grandmother Rebecca was born in Waterbury not far from Teston and Grandfather William James was brought up in Maidstone. They appear to have been reasonably well off for I recall my mother saying that until my grandfather’s father died the family had servants, a coachman and stabled their own horses. However when my grandfather’s father died his Will was not completely clear and his wife who, could not read or write, only received actual money the property went to my grandfather’s grandfather. When he died for some reason the property was ceded to the Crown. Grandfather and his mother took court action to gain access to the property but the action failed. This I understand resulted in my great grandmother becoming almost destitute.

I have recently researched the story and it appears to be all wishful thinking. There was a Prichard who lived in Bristol who died in 1869 the year my grandfather was born. He left behind a wife and six children, the youngest of who was also born in 1869. He did leave a confused Will which was sorted out in a case that went the House of Lords and the mother only received the money and not the property.

My research has revealed that my grandfather lived in Spitalfield in London with his father who was a tallow merchant. At this stage the surname was spelt as Pritchard with a ‘T’. In the next census the ‘T’ was dropped. In Maidstone they are shown both with and without the ‘T". Great Grandfather still worked as a tallow merchant but by the time he was in his sixties he was in the Workhouse in Maidstone. Grandfather used tell me stories of his childhood when he had to collect washing from large houses for his mother to wash, this being her only income.

The Prichards’ lived in a terrace house at 28, Portland Avenue, Gravesend; this house was vastly different from the one in Mill Lane. Grandmother was very deaf and grandfather, who had worked as an electrician, had installed various gadgets to make her life easier. For instance, when anyone rang the front door bell not only did bells ring in every room but lights flashed as well.

This house had a large bay window, with a small front garden which was surrounded by a wrought iron fence with a front gate. At the back of the house what had been the yard was covered in glass and used as a green house. The rest of the garden at the back was filled with sheds. In one shed was a complete printing press but I never saw it uncovered. My mother told me the press had been used to print election pamphlets for the Liberal Party during the early part of the 1900’s.

Another of the sheds was filled with carpentry and wood turning tools. I liked to visit this shed with its aromas of cut wood with the curly shavings on the floor, and see what creation granddad was working on.

He had worked as an electrician helping install the electrified railway from Charing Cross in London to Gravesend. Once I had acquired a bicycle I visited their house on numerous occasions as Gravesend is only 5miles from the village of Darenth where I lived.

Grandmother was not very tall and was very thin. She had mousy grey hair which was also very thin and her scalp could be clearly seen. On many occasions she placed metal curlers in the few strands of hair. I felt this made her baldness seem worse. She also had what I thought was an unusual way of speaking by putting ’R’s’ in the wrong places. For example, the word ’hospital’ was pronounced "horspital”.

Grandfather was of medium height, rather fat and almost bald. He was a chain smoker and bought his cigarettes in flat, oblong tins and as he emptied a tin of cigarettes he would place the empty tin behind his armchair. The brand of the cigarettes I remember was Player’s. I liked the smell from the cigarette tins and would attempt to open one on the pretext of looking for cigarette cards. Grandmother did not approve of him smoking so refused to move the stack of tins. At one stage the stack of tins was higher than the back of his chair. I am not sure when they moved to Gravesend because when my mother was young they lived at various addresses in Maidstone.

Grandfather was a jolly sort of fellah, full of ideas. One time he made lots of children’s rocking horses; another time he decided to breed budgerigars. I’m sure this was an effort to earn some extra money as I believe they were living on the old age pension and 28 Portland Avenue was rented. Once when I visited, the spare bedrooms upstairs were filled with birdcages and what seemed like hundreds of birds. I’m not sure he made any money but at least he was always full of ideas. Another thing that has always intrigued me was that both grandparents drank a half-pint glass of stout just before going to bed. Grandfather would take a jug and go to an off -license shop about 50 yards away and bring the stout back in the jug. It was on one of these trips during January [gap??]...

The Page and Prichard families met whilst hop picking. Hops were grown extensively along both sides of the river Medway and hop picking was looked upon as a holiday. A camp site would be set up with cooking facilities and some cover for the workers to sleep under. The payment was by piece work so for some it was just a social gathering.

How my father and mother got together I do not know. They were the most unsuited couple one was ever likely to meet. It is possible that my mother was friendly with my father’s brother Jack who was killed in France in 1916. On many occasions she spoke fondly of him. Father’s full name was Godfrey Kemenoe Page, his brothers and sisters called him Goss. For some reason the spelling of Kemminoe had changed by this time. In common with many families the surname of the female line was incorporated into the Christian name of the families’ children, Kemenoe being the surname of his mother Sarah.

Father first worked as an apprentice gardener on a large estate in Suffolk until the outbreak of the First World War. When the 1914 - 1918 war broke out the owners of the estate then sacked most of the male servants and people such as gardeners so that they would go and join the armed forces. Father was deemed physically unfit due to blindness in his right eye, he said that he didn’t know he was blind in one eye until he had a medical. I don’t know how it came about, but he ended up in the Port of London Police.

My mother’s full name was Elizabeth Harriet Prichard she had the unfortunate nickname of Lizzy. She lived with her parents who were then at 28 Portland Avenue in Gravesend, I understand that she was doing casual work as a temporary maid or something similar at the time she married my father.

My parents were married in 1918. Their wedding photograph shows a sadly mismatched couple. My father tall, with waxed moustache, his hair parted in the middle, standing very erect and looking very important and pleased with him. Mother is seated and looking as if she would like to be somewhere else and giving the impression of being there under duress. They started their married life in some rooms in Cable Street, Canningtown on the edge of London Docks. They were still living there when the First World War ended in 1918.

With the end of the war the temporary police were stood down and during 1919 my parents moved to Great Yeldham a small village in Essex. Father had secured a job as a gardener on the Estate of Spencer’s Hall and with the job went the living quarters in the gatehouse known as the Lodge.

I do not know a great deal about the family who occupied the Hall. I believe there were two brothers and two spinster sisters. The estate employed a number of under gardeners, a cook, maids, chauffeur, farm manager and labourers. The brothers worked as solicitors in London during the week.

The gatehouse had no running water so my mother had to walk the 50 or so meters to the village pump to get water, which she carried back in buckets. Lighting was by means of kerosene lamps, which was normal in most rural areas. Part of the duties of the occupier of the gatehouse was to run out and open and shut the large gates when anybody wanted to enter or leave the estate.

During the time my parents lived in the gatehouse my sister Kathleen was born. Her birth took place in my mother’s parents’ house at 28 Portland Avenue in Gravesend. Another child was born to my mother in the 20’s apparently she was born with one leg longer than the other and at the age of 3 she entered Guy’s Hospital in London to have her leg broken and thereby shortened. After this was done the leg was placed in plaster and she was sent home for some months during which time she contracted measles. On returning to the hospital to have the plaster removed she died while under the anaesthetic. I understand that my elder sister, Kathleen, had her tonsils removed by the local doctor who used the kitchen table as an operating table.

Whilst living at the gatehouse my parents kept chickens and mother sold the eggs at Halstead the nearest market town. This venture collapsed at the time of the 1929 stock market crash. I was told that my father was most unreasonable when my mother returned with eggs she could not sell.

I was born in the gatehouse on 1st February 1931. It was a very bad winter and the village was snowed in so my birth could not be registered in Halstead until March. Apparently when my birth was due my sister Kathleen who was nearly eleven years old, was sent to the village post office to arrange for a telegram to be dispatched to my dad’s sister Daisy that her help was needed. Kathleen said that was the first she knew our mother was pregnant and she also remembered that on the day I was born she was sent out in to the garden to play and told not to go into the house until she was called.

At about the time of my birth my father’s employers had lost money in the stock market crash and decided to lay off some employees. Dad was unemployed for 10 weeks but was allowed to stay in the gatehouse. He managed to secure a position as head gardener at The Southern Hospital in the village of Darenth about three miles from the town of Dartford. The Southern Hospital was a children’s hospital owned and operated by the London County Council. So when I was six months old the family moved to the house where I was to be brought up. For the duration of the shift sister Kathleen was sent to stay with my father’s mother’s sister Aunt Polly.

I do not remember Aunt Polly’s surname. She lived in a basement flat somewhere off Vauxhall Bridge Road not far from Victoria rail station in central London. On one occasion my mother and I visited Aunt Polly. The front door of the flat was lower than the road and to get to it we went down a number of steps. Once inside the rooms were very narrow and extremely dark.

On the day prior to the move to Darenth my father bicycled from the village of Great Yeldham to grandfather’s house in Gravesend, and the following day rode to the new family home at 6, Liddon Terrace, a distance of about 5 miles from grandfather’s house in Gravesend. The area of the village is known as Lanesend, so our postal address was 6 Liddon Terrace, Lanesend Nr Dartford, Kent. (Liddon Terrace is in fact in Wood Lane).

Mother and I travelled on the lorry bringing all the family goods. On arrival the goods were unloaded and beds set up as the journey had taken all day. The main reason the journey took so long was that the only places to cross the river Thames were either by the paddle steamer ferry at Woolwich, or the tunnel at Blackwall further up river.

The house required kerosene lamps to light it plus the only method of cooking or heating was a coal range in the living room. Apparently I had a restless first night and next morning it was found I was covered in fleabites. To clear the house of these undesirables, father decided to fumigate all the rooms. All the doors and windows were blocked and we were all sent outside whilst father got some red-hot coals and placed sulphur on them. I’m sure we were thankful that the month was August and the weather not too cold. The sulphur fumes had the desired effect on the fleas but also gave many items a black coating which caused mother many hours of anguish.

The village of Darenth is situated in a valley running almost North-South the surrounding hills being of chalk with little topsoil. The main employer was the London County Council who owned and operated the two hospitals. The Southern, where my father was employed, was classified as a children’s’ hospital the other was the mental hospital operated by an organization known as the Metropolitan Asylum Board. The children’s hospital was surrounded by a two meter high wooden slatted fence whilst the Asylum was enclosed by a brick wall of the same height, with broken glass embedded in the top of the wall. The area covered by the hospitals was large, the Southern containing over 5 miles of sealed roads with two large fruit orchards. The Mental hospital’s open areas operated as a farm with many fields cultivated, growing vegetables and food for livestock with the majority of the workers being inmates. Both hospitals operated efficient control of anyone who wished to enter or leave with large gates attended by gatekeepers.

Part of the Southern Hospital area was wooded with oaks and chestnut trees, this wooded area adjoined a large wooded area that ran along the Eastern side of the valley, the Western side of the valley was also farmed and on the highest point of the Western side was situated an Estate with a large house secluded by a large stand of beech trees.

From the town of Dartford the valley could be accessed by one of two roads, the longer route going past the entrances of both hospitals, this route was used by the bus service. The two roads merged at the entrance to Southern Hospital with the single road passing Wood lane, which contained Liddon Terrace and continued on to the villages of Green Street Green and Longfield and beyond.

The village had two shops which sold almost everything. The nearest was at the bottom of the lane the other was in the row of houses on the main road and opposite the village green. On the northern side of the village green was a greengrocery type store which sold mostly home grown produce and also had a petrol pump. Once past the row of houses the land was set aside as allotments. Beyond them was a new housing development of council owned houses.

In the years before the war my mother only used the local shop for emergencies as each item was slightly dearer than in the town of Dartford. I remember me walking to Dartford with her although I cannot remember my age, but she pushed the pram as it made it easier to carry the purchases. These trips were in the afternoon as she could leave at one o’clock and be home in time to get my father’s tea at 5 p.m.

The journey took us along the main road passed the entrance to the Southern hospital and up a slight hill called Trolling Down, across the main London to Dover road and down a fairly steep hill into the town of Dartford. The main road we crossed was the old Roman road of Watling Street, also called Pilgrim’s Way, and at the crossing point it was perfectly straight. This road would have been walked by Chaucer on his journey to Canterbury. As this was a major crossing point there was a flashing red light at the centre of the junction very similar to a lighthouse, this continued to flash until a bomb demolished it during the war. At the bottom of the hill at the entrance to the town a church stood next to the bridge over the river Dart, the bridge is at the site of the original ford.

The town is three miles from the village and the bus fare was 3 pence each way and I believe I travelled for free until the age of five years.

On walking home in the winter months it would be quite dark by the time we reached Trolling Down hill the horses and carts would be lit up with lanterns. At the top of the hill the drivers would get off their wagons and place a metal skid under one of the back wheels of the carts making it easier for the horses to take the carts downhill as they would have to pull the cart. The stone chips used with the bitumen to make the road were quarried locally and the majority of rock in the area was flint and the scraping of iron on flint stones produced a shower of sparks. The effect was like fireworks coming from under the carts, which was fascinating for a small boy. Of course, I didn’t always go with my mother but was looked after by a neighbour and mother looked after their children on numerous occasions.

Dartford had the usual national stores and a Co-Op which sold most things By owning a one pound share in the Co- Op store one received a rebate on any purchases. The rebate was paid at the end of the year and much of our shopping was done in this store.

The town had an open market where greengrocery was sold and once a week an auction was held where produce such as chickens and rabbits were sold. The butchers’ shops in the town all had sawdust on the floor. Rabbits and chicken were displayed and sold whole. This meant that unless you asked the butcher to skin the rabbit or pluck the chicken, these tasks had to be done at home. Very little was pre-packed and butter and cheese were cut and packed to order. The cheapest shop was Woolworths which had a large display over the entrance ‘The 3d and 6d store’.

There were two hospitals in the actual town and one a few miles out of town towards the river Thames. The hospital nearest the Thames was named Joyce Green and was designated as a fever hospital and any passengers or crews from ships arriving in the London area from foreign parts, who were suspected of having infectious diseases, were kept in isolation at this hospital. Of the two hospitals in the town proper, one was named after the African explorer Dr Livingston; the other was simply called West Hill. There were two major employers in the town. A company named Hall which manufactured lifts and Burroughs Wellcome which was a drug manufacturing company. My sister Kathleen worked for Borough's and Welcome for about 40 years.

Not far from the bottom of the slope of the hill was the entrance to Southern Hospital. There were three houses at the entrance to the Southern Hospital for the gatekeepers, and a short distance along the road was a large house in the hospital grounds. This house, partly hidden behind a wooden fence, was the residence of the hospital superintendent. On the other side of the road some distance along were several council houses and two privately owned, medium-sized properties.

From the top of Trolling downhill it was possible to catch a glimpse of a house which belonged to Baden Powell who was the founder of the Scouting Movement.

A few hundred yards further on at the entrance to Wood Lane stood the public house, ‘The Fox and Hounds’. Opposite stood the village hall which was made of corrugated iron and painted a dull red. On the south side of the entrance to Wood Lane stood the village grocery store. On entering Wood Lane on Northern side stood Liddon Terrace, a row of six houses owned by the Southern Hospital and occupied by their employees. The wooden fence that marked the boundary of the hospital grounds stood at the bottom of their back gardens. Farthest from the entrance to the lane was number six. Fifty or so yards up the lane stood another row of three terrace houses. On the southern side were three terrace houses, then a bungalow with a tall privet hedge, then a large two story house with a grand wrought iron fence and a walled garden, and then another bungalow. Beyond these houses was a large field, which backed on to a large wooded area.

On the main road next to the shop on the corner stood long row of terrace houses then a large area of allotments. On the other side of the road from the houses was the triangular village green. A road enclosed the green with one house on each of the other two sides.

Once passed the allotments a large development had just started in 1931 to erect a considerable number of council houses. These were part of a grand plan to provide accommodation for those made homeless by the slum clearance in the south west of London. On the Western side were some abandoned gravel pits then a row of ten or so terrace houses with one used as a small shop; then a water works that pumped the water supply to the village and the hospitals. A short distance past stood the village school which I attended for five years.

Our terrace house was typical of many built in England in the 1800’s. It consisted of two stories with walls of brick with no reinforcing or damp course. It was cement plastered inside and out. On the wall facing the lane between Nos. 3 and 4 was a cement nameplate denoting the date of construction and its designated name.

The ground floor of the house consisted of three rooms plus a laundry cum scullery. Upstairs was a repetition of the down stairs with a small bedroom over the scullery. The toilet was outside attached to the laundry cum scullery wall. None of the houses in Liddon Terrace had a bath room. The other houses had gas lights and heating but my father refused to have the gas installed in our house. As far as he was concerned gas was poison as he knew that if a gas heater was in a glasshouse the plants would die.

The front door of the house was wooden with a large brass knocker and a slit for the postman to push the mail through. The door opened onto a squarish room which had an open fire place and a casement window with six panes of glass. It was furnished with a settee with rolled arms and covered in black leatherette and four straight-backed chairs covered in the same material. Both chairs and settee were uncomfortable to sit on as they were cold to the touch. There was a table plus a smaller table which had pot plants on it. The best china was kept in a free-standing cupboard and on top of this cupboard was a photograph of my deceased sister. A built-in cupboard was beside the fire place was used to store bottled fruit and homemade jam. Hanging on the other wall were large photos of my parents in ornate gold-coloured frames. This room was rarely used, except on Christmas Day afternoon when the open fire would be lit and the afternoon and evening could be spent playing cards or some other games in reasonable comfort.

In the second room a cupboard had been fitted under the stairs. This cup- board served as a larder and was the only space for keeping food so very little of anything perishable was kept and once food was cooked it was eaten almost immediately. In summer butter was almost liquid and in winter as solid a rock. The main items kept in quantity were flour and rice.

On what was the sidewall of the stairs was a door that opened to the rest of the space under the stairs; the main use was for the storage of bread which was kept in a large earthenware pot with a wooden lid. It was also where I slept during the worst of the air raids. Immediately along the wall was the main door that provided the entrance to the stairs. In the middle of the wall on the opposite side of the room from the stairs was a coal range, referred to as a Kitchener. It was in fact a coal range much smaller than a traditional Kitchener. All the cooking was done on the stove or in the attached oven and hot water needed by the family was heated on the stove. The other wall had a window, which was a replica of the one in the front of the house.

This room was furnished with a table, four dining chairs each with tied on seat covers. The table had a cloth on it 90% of the time. It was a very old table and where it had been scrubbed it was ridged and the softer parts of the wood had been worn away. On the table stood the only means of lighting a kerosene lamp with two large wicks a tall central glass chimney and a globe. The lamp had to be filled every day and the wick trimmed to prevent it smoking and to produce a squarish, even flame. The glass chimney also had to be cleaned and polished.

There was a fireplace in both of the rooms, each with a mantel piece on which ornaments were displayed. Earlier on the fireplace in the kitchen had a three foot high metal guard around it and on many occasions clothes were hung on the guard either to dry or air.

My parents had their own chairs. Mother’s was called a “Granny chair” and Father’s was a larger version of the dining chairs except that it had arms The floors in both rooms were covered with congoleum with rag mats scattered about.

The windows had different curtains for summer and winter, the winter ones being thicker in an attempt to keep out the cold. All main doors had curtains and sand-filled, sausage-like draught excluders at the base to keep draughts to a minimum. Because the house was built without a damp course and only a single row of bricks, in winter or after an easterly wind with driving rain the outside wall was wet inside and out. The wall paper became saturated like blotting paper and everything was moved away from the wall. I not sure when but a damp course was added and the outside of all the houses were plastered in attempt to make them water proof.

There was one other room downstairs which was referred to as the scullery which had three doors; one provided another entrance to the stairs but was rarely used because the entrance was blocked by the mangle; one provided access to the outside yard; the third opened into the central room with the cooker, to reach this door two steps had to be negotiated. The scullery had a built-in copper complete with fire space underneath and a chimney. Opposite was a sink with one brass tap which provided all the household water. On the side of the sink was a wooden draining board. The water was piped into the sink by means of lead pipes and it was fortunate for everyone that the water supply was saturated with lime stone. The lime stone corroded the inside of pipes and any container used for heating or storing water and prevented people suffering from lead poisoning. There were two small windows with one pane of glass in each and it was possible to open one of these windows.

To get to the only toilet it was necessary to go through the scullery door to the yard outside and walk past the scullery window. The toilet gave the appearance of being added on after the house was built. It had a paneled wooden door that missed the bottom by at least twelve inches with a similar clearance at the top. The cistern that held the water to flush the toilet was of cast iron and situated right above the toilet. The cistern was operated by pulling a chain.

Opposite the backdoor about six or seven feet away, was a seven foot high wall that enclosed the yard. At the base of the wall in the corner that joined the house was a large wooden box with a lift up lid, it had a small opening at the bottom. In this box was stored the coal necessary for heating and cooking. The box was always locked to prevent the coal being stolen.

Upstairs was a replica of the down stairs area. The two main rooms had fireplaces but during the years I lived in the house they were never lit. The only cupboard was the space above the stairs in one room. My sister Kathleen had the front room, my parents the middle room and I had the one above the scullery with a small window over the toilet. To enter my room it was necessary to go through my parents’ room, then down two steps. The room was just big enough to take one single bed and a small chest of drawers.

The view out of my window was most pleasant, looking over the fields of the Mental Hospital where various crops were grown. From this window I watched the fields being ploughed by horse drawn ploughs, weeded and harvested, and at times the fields were covered with rooks or seagulls. Beyond these fields were trees that bounded the other farms in the area and many a time in the months of April and May I have stood at the window listening to the cuckoo calling across the valley or watching the gnats dancing. I was always intrigued by the way the gnats danced they seemed to have a specific pattern which never varied even when disturbed.

My father was in complete control of all aspects of the household. My mother did everything inside the four walls. The normal routine was mother rose first just after six a.m. and lit the fire in the Kitchener, boiled the kettle, made a pot of tea and cooked a slice of bacon. She would cut the bread and spread it either with butter or a mixture of butter and margarine.

On rising father would wash in the scullery having shaved the previous evening. Whilst father was eating his breakfast mother would make him a sandwich, usually of cheese, then he would cycle off to work to be there at 7 a.m.

Kathleen and I would both get up about a quarter to seven and take turns in washing; in my case it was minimal as the water was cold. Breakfast would consist of bread and jam or peanut butter. My mother would cut the bread and butter it and spread the jam or whatever else was available. Kathleen would leave about 7.30 either to cycle to work or catch a bus at the bottom of the lane. I would leave about 8 a.m. while at the secondary modern school but when I went to Woolwich Polytechnic I would have to catch the 7.am. bus at the bottom of lane to make class at 9 a.m.

After we all had left, mother would then have some breakfast and then begin her routine. Firstly making the beds and emptying the urinal potties that were under the beds and may have been used during night. The potties were emptied in one bucket and then washed with water which she had carried upstairs in another bucket.

During the morning she would make preparations and cook a midday meal for my father who would arrive home about 10 minutes past 1p.m. The meal would consist of a meat dish always potatoes and, depending on the time of the year, two or three other vegetables, followed by a desert of some sort like rice milk pudding. My father expected his meal to be dished up and on the table when he walked in so all he had to do was to sit down and eat. Water was in a jug on the table as this was the drink that was taken at lunch time. The meals for Kathleen and myself were also dished up at this time and would be reheated on a plate on top of a saucepan filled with water when we arrived home. Kathleen would arrive home about 5.45pm and when I was at the Polytechnic it was 7 p.m. before I walked in the door as classes did not finish until 5 p.m.

After my father returned to work to be there by 2 p.m. my mother prepared the next meal which was tea and was expected to be on the table when my father arrived home just after 5.p.m. This meal consisted of bread and butter which my mother had sliced and buttered, homemade jam and, in season, salad vegetables which were served as separate items and eaten with salt and plain bread and butter. Homemade cake and, on occasions, jam tarts or something similar followed and tea was drunk with this meal.

The next meal was supper at about 8.30 p.m which I did not participate in until I went to the polytechnic because it was after my specified bedtime. This meal usually consisted of something like bacon and egg pie or macaroni cheese and cocoa was served.

My mother also made father’s shirts and vests and knitted his socks. She made my shirts and vests and when I was young she made my trousers out of father’s old ones, knitted my socks and gloves and she made her own dresses. She was always very busy for she repaired both her own and my shoes; made the floor rugs out of sugar sacks and strips of clothing that came from the local jumble sale. In season she made jam and bottled fruit.

She attended to all the usual necessities to keep the house hold functioning such as washing on Mondays which meant lighting the copper in the scullery. Filling the copper with water from the only water tap and then emptying the copper with a bucket as there was no drain in it she also chopped the kindling to light the fire and carried the coal inside for the fire. My father’s assertion was that it was a women’s job to do all the work inside the house while he did the hard work outside.

This does not imply that my father was lazy, far from it. During the winter months he would do such things as resole his boots but little more as the only light was the two burner kerosene lamp. He would read the newspaper which we had delivered each day “The News Chronicle” and of course listen to the radio. He had control of the radio so it was only on the station that he wanted whilst he was in the house.

He went to work on Saturday mornings and after lunch and on Sunday mornings he would work on the two allotments or in the garden where he grew all the vegetables for the family of four, including all the potatoes. During the summer months the lighter evenings would be spent in the garden of the house tending the tomatoes and cucumbers. All the vegetables would be carried or wheeled home from the allotments on Saturday or Sunday with enough to last the coming week.

Before lunch on Sunday father washed and shaved and changed into his best clothes a suit and waist coat and changed his watch chain to what I assumed was a gold one. He always wore a suit and waist coat with a starched collar and tie even when working on the allotment, but the watch chain he wore to work was of a silvery colour. He periodical cleaned his watch by taking it out of its case and immersing it in benzene this flushed out quantities grit etc. Just before the war his watch ceased to function so he decided to purchase a new one he explained before shopping for the watch how he was going to decide which one to buy. He stated that it was the quality of the watch he wanted not the case so he didn’t want a silver or gold one. His plan was to view a number of similar looking metal cased watches and then ask the jeweller to weigh each watch and he would buy the heaviest. He asserted that heaviest watch would be the one with the most jewels. The hubs of the better mechanical watches had some of the axels imbedded in jewels. The better the quality the more jewels.

After lunch when the dishes had been cleared away my mother would put on her best clothes and until I went to the polytechnic I was required to join then on a Sunday afternoon walk of about one and half hours, the only reason for not going was rain. I recall us walking when light snow was falling. My father had a great knowledge of the country side although we did not gather any fruit or nuts on theses walks I learned where they were and would return at the first opportunity to collect them. The woods had chestnuts, cobnuts, wild strawberries, wild rabbits, squirrels, and in the grazed fields mushrooms. Some the hedgerows had blackberries and damsons. The walks covered most of the surrounding country side and the only time we stopped for a sit down was when we walked to the edge of Dartford to a park when in the summer months a cricket match might be being played.

After tea on Sundays my mother would read a book while knitting and the usual pattern for many years was I played my father first at draughts and then at chess. The wireless had a speaker that was horn shaped and separate from the receiver. My father always sat next to the wireless so that he controlled the volume and content. If the content was in any way risqué the volume would be turned down or I would be sent to bed.

Down the side of the house ran a path which surrounded the complete row of houses and was in constant use by other residents of the terrace and the tradesmen. In the early days the milkman came every day of the week towing a churn of milk on a two-wheeled trolley. He called at every house and ladled the required quantity of milk into the householder’s jug. The baker carried his basket of bread to the customer’s back door. In each case the mode of transport was a horse drawn cart. The horses knew the routine so well that while the merchants was calling at the back doors of the houses, the horses would move to where their owners would return to the road.

Although the front doors of the houses had letter slots, mail and the newspapers were delivered to the back door. Compared with today each house had many more tradesmen visitors. There were insurance salesmen who also collected the weekly dues; gypsies selling homemade wooden pegs; knife sharpeners; onion sellers and many others. In truth the path and yards were used by everybody as if it were common land.

Beyond the back yards were gardens, these gardens were approximately 30 to 40 feet long and contained sheds of various sizes. The gardens finished at the wooden fence that surrounded the hospital grounds. Beyond the path that ran down the side of our house was a vacant piece of land that was cultivated by the previous tenant of number 6, and was enclosed by diamond shaped netting fence.

FIRST MEMORIES

It is difficult to ascertain how old I was, but I remember spending a lot of time under the living room table, probably because it kept me out of the way.

Mondays were wash day. Mother would light the copper in the scullery and some items were boiled. The items that were badly soiled were scrubbed and boiled and after rinsing were put through the mangle to squeeze out as much water as possible.

On either Tuesday or Wednesday mother would go to Dartford for shopping. In the early days she walked as the bus fare was 3 pence but after about 1938 she normally took the bus. The ' bus stop was opposite the pub ‘The Fox and Hounds" and I recall that earlier on there was much competition between the bus companies, with buses racing to the bus stop and offering different fares at the time of boarding.

Some of these buses were double-deckers with an open upper deck and on one occasion I was allowed to go upstairs and sit with Mr. Finn who was our neighbour. I remember when the journey was almost over it started to rain and Mr. Finn and the other passengers put up their umbrellas.

Sometime in the 30’s all the 'bus routes were regionalized. The London Transport Company was given a monopoly in the London area. Maidstone and District Bus Company operated from Gravesend to Canterbury and from Canterbury to Dover The East Kent Bus Company. The London Transport Company's 'buses were painted green as were the Maidstone and District buses but a different shade of green, while East Kent’s were plum coloured. The area controlled by London Transport extended for quite some distance from London itself and in our area they went as far as Gravesend.

THE ALLOTMENTS

We had two allotments which were about 400 yards away and on the side of a hill, the vegetables produced on these two pieces of land these were absolutely necessary as money was scarce and home-grown vegetables were a bonus. On one occasion before I started school mother heard of a local farmer who was ploughing a field that had potatoes growing in it and the villagers were allowed to collect any potatoes that had been missed in harvesting. We spent two or three days collecting any we could find and putting them in my old pram. Potatoes, carrots and parsnips intended for use during the winter were stored in the garden shed. After an air raid shelter was installed in the garden in 1940 it was also used for vegetable storage.

Allotments were pieces of land usually 250 square meters especially set aside with the aim of providing any person who wished to grow vegetables access to some land and available for rent usually from the local council. In the case of Darenth the land was owned by the church.

In all there were about 30 or 40 allotments where a number of villagers grew vegetables and many had sheds and fruit trees and I recall a couple had pig sties. All the family vegetables were grown on the allotment and carried back to the house on either Saturday or Sunday. I cannot recall any instance where vegetables were bought. I was required to assist in the garden and the allotments for many years. Every Saturday afternoon was spent hoeing, digging or weeding. It was not all bad as I learned a great deal about gardening.

Every six weeks or so my father would cycle to Dartford to get his hair cut. On these occasions I joined the other village boys playing football or cricket on the village green. These games were totally informal events with rules made up on the day depending how many of boys were playing. Coats sufficed as goal posts and any three sticks provided a wicket. The area neither was nor mowed so the most worn area was selected as a cricket pitch. During school holidays and in the long summer evenings the village green was the place where I spent a great deal of time.

Sometimes we went to the River Darenth and from the bridge we lowered jam jars baited with bread and tied to a piece of string in an attempt to catch sticklebacks.

We climbed trees, made bows and arrows and slings from the rubber of old bicycle inner tubes. We made kites out of newspaper and sticks from the nearby wood. We played marbles with the rules changing every year. One year one of boy's fathers made a number of tops and we practiced making them jump using a thin piece of leather tied to a stick. In the autumn we collected the ripe nuts (known as conkers) from the horse chestnut tree and drilled holes through the nut. A piece of string was threaded through the hole and a knot tied at the end to prevent the nut falling off. One of us would hold his conker out at arm’s length and his opponent swung his conker on the end of its string and attempted to break the nut. It could be a dangerous game especially if the “swinger” was off track and hit your hand instead of the proffered nut. Turns were taken to attempt to hit one another's nut and the winner was the one who’s nut did not break. It was not unknown for “conkers “to be baked in the oven in an attempt to harden them up.

During the school holidays together with the other village boys, I roamed the local countryside and so long as we came back for meals we had complete freedom. We made camp sites in the woods and in the bushes by the river. In these camps we hid our treasures, catapults and things which were banned at home.

SCHOOL

The village primary school was approximately a mile and a half away on the main road to Green Street Green. The main building was brick with two class rooms with high ceilings and windows that only an adult could look out of. Not long before I started school two more modern classrooms had been built in the school grounds. The main building had a bell tower and this bell was rung to indicate the start of each period of lessons.

On fine days all the children were required to leave the classrooms for the period of any break and at midday nearly all the children left to go home for lunch, the lunch break being of two hours. Most days I walked to school but on rainy days I was given the penny bus fare to get to school. I started school on the day after my fifth birthday, on this day and for quite some considerable time after my mother took me to school and met me when I left.

It always intrigues me that we remember some instances in our lives with great detail while others, probably just as significant, are just forgotten. I have a very clear recollection of my first day at school, on arrival I was met by the infant mistress, Mrs. Earl, and taken into to classroom and given a slate board and a stick of chalk to try and copy the alphabet that was on the black board. I had to sit next to Mrs. Earl’s daughter who was a little older than me. Mrs. Earl told me that her daughter, Enid, would look after me. If this was school I was not impressed as I was a boy and I didn’t want a girl looking after me.

The school was divided by ages. The five and six-year-olds in one room, the seven and eight-year-olds in the next and older children in the two new classrooms. At eleven years of age external exams were sat. These exams were considered to be very important as they determined the future path of one’s education. The local grammar school could only accommodate a certain number of new pupils each year and every parent wanted their child to get a place. The grammar school was where the brightest received the best available education and education was seen as the pathway to a life of success. I sat the exam but didn’t get a place.

Every now and again the head master of the village school would come into the classroom and test us on what had been taught and if we answered the questions correctly on some occasions we were allowed to take a sweet out of a bag, on other occasions we were allowed to go home early.

In the school grounds there was a row of poplar trees; it was under these trees that the older children had small gardens which they cultivated as part of their education. The school was surrounded by a netting fence and we were required to stay in the enclosed area during our school hours.

It was during these early years that the first of what was to be the many changes brought about by technology took place in the village. The first was the installation of a telephone box just passed the allotments. The main use as I recall was the ability to telephone the doctor. At that time it was probably the only telephone in the village.

The second was the installation of a pedestrian crossing near one of the shops. The broad white patches were painted on the road with flashing orange lights on high poles on each side of the road. I recall being taken out to see this display of flashing lights. I was most impressed as our house was still lit by kerosene lamps. The lights at the crossing were called Belisha beacons after the man who was Minister of Transport at the time.

My next very clear memory was just after I had learned to read. I tried to read the newspaper and look at the pictures with their captions. The year must have been 1937 or 1938 for the News Chronicle, the newspaper my parents received every day, was showing graphic pictures of the Spanish civil war. One of these pictures showed a small girl who lost both hands and I asked had they been cut off with scissors or a knife. This must have worried me as I have been told I had nightmares about the picture and as a consequence I was not allowed to see the newspapers for quite some time. There was constant talk of war with Germany with many local men joining the Territorial’s. These were men who trained at being soldiers in their spare time and would be the first to be called to active service in the event of war. Together with other boys from the village I watched the Territorial’s drill on the village green.

On arriving at school one day we found our classroom being cleared of soldiers’ sleeping gear. Just over the fence was an anti aircraft artillery battery completes with sand bags with soldiers practicing manoeuvring the direction of the gun. I remember standing at the fence watching and trying to see what was happening during class. We must have been a problem in class as the curtains were pulled across the windows.

Sometime later my mother took me to the hall at the bottom of the lane where we collected gas masks which we were supposed to carry where ever we went. The gas masks were in square cardboard boxes with string through two holes so they could be carried in a similar way to a satchel. Also about this time a chest high, green painted board was placed outside the school gate and we were told that should the green paint change colour we were to rush and tell our teacher and put on our gas masks. We had many practices, which caused much amusement as not only did the person with a gas mask on look funny but breathing caused a strange bubbling sound.

This was a time of much concern as war was expected any day and the last war with the great loss of life was still fresh in the memories of many people. To the children in the school including myself, it was a time of great excitement.

At home everybody had to be very quiet whilst listening to the news update on the radio. The radio was on a low cupboard beside my father’s chair and was powered by a 144 volt battery with many plug holes for different cells. Terminals from the radio were moved from cell to cell depending how much life was left in the battery. Father had a voltmeter which he would plug in various cells this would indicate the voltage that could be expected from that particular combination. There was also a lead acid battery the same type as used in today’s cars, for two other terminals. If either of these batteries began to lose power the radio dropped in volume and it became difficult to hear what was being said.

I could see into the radio and when it was switched on the large valves that looked like today’s electric light bulbs, glowed. The sound came out a separate horn that stood about 18 inches high. To get a reasonable reception the radio required a good aerial. In our house this consisted of a copper wire running from a pole about 12 feet high half way down the garden path to the house, culminating in a switch just as it entered the hole in the window frame, this enabled the wire to be earthed in the event of a thunderstorm Once inside the house the wire plugged into the radio. Where the wire was attached to the pole or the house the wire was protected from earthing by a porcelain insulator.

Before continuing with the events that I can recall I will describe Wood Lane and the people who lived in it prior to 1938. I have mentioned previously the public house “The Fox and Hounds” was on the left hand side when entering the lane. Behind the fence surrounding the building was a row of lilac trees, the suckers from the trees had grown under the fence giving a green verge beside the tar seal and when the lilacs were in bloom the perfume filled the whole Lane. The only footpath in the lane was in front of the six houses of Liddon Terrace.

On the opposite side was a similar fence shielding the rear of the corner grocers. At the end of the fence was a large elm tree whose trunk bulged out into the lane and its roots created bumps in the tar seal. The leaves of this magnificent tree changed to gold in the autumn and in spring and summer it was home for numerous birds and in the spring the cuckoo often called from its branches.

At the end of the public house fence was the path down the side of No.1 Liddon Terrace which was much wider than the path at the end of the Terrace where I lived. The wooden fence surrounding the public house gave way to a brick wall beside the path and by standing on a ledge I was able to see over the wall. And I often watched games of bowls being played on the lawn at the rear of the pub.

In the first house in the Terrace lived the Smith family. Mr. Smith was retired and I cannot recall any details about him or his wife. In No. 2 lived Mr. and Mrs. Barker with their son Donovan and daughter Betty Besides Mr. and Mrs. Barker there was a son Donovan and a daughter Betty and Major the dog.

Mr. Barker was a bricklayer employed in the hospital and in later years he built a cottage further up the lane. Don Barker was employed as a secretary to the owner of a gun shop somewhere in London. I do not know where Betty worked. She was about the same age as Kathleen and the pair seemed to spend much their time out walking about arm in arm. The dog Major must have been old as he would just stand to be patted or stroked and walked only very slowly

At No. 3 lived the McKay’s who had one son Tom who was a year older than I. Mr. McKay was an ex naval stoker and was employed in that capacity at the hospital. They had a large shed in their garden with a dart board on one wall where Tom and I spent many hours during the war years playing darts. The one thing I remember about the McKay’s was that they always had a fish meal on Fridays. Mrs. McKay said it was to ensure the family went to heaven when they died. I recall thinking that if they did not know where heaven was and did not know anybody who had been there why would they want to go and why especially eat fish?

At No. 4 lived the Mills family. Mr. Mills also worked as a stoker at the hospital and worked shifts and it seemed that he was late for every shift as it was not unusual to hear him running down the lane in his hob nailed boots. Their first child Tony was born about 1936. There was quite often a lot of noise coming from their house in the form of shouting at each other.

The Hoods lived at No. 5. Mr. Hood had been a sailor and in later years had worked at the hospital. I thought he was very old as he walked with the aid of a walking stick. One day when Tony Mills was only a few months old his mother placed him in a pram on their garden path. Young Tony managed to stand up and tip the pram over. Apparently Mr. Hood hurried to help the child who was screaming and on the way he tripped and fell damaging his leg. Mr. Hood was carried to bed. I do not know any details but a few days later after the doctor had called, I heard my mother and some of the other women of the terrace talking. They said that Mr. Hood’s foot had turned black and was oozing what looked like black sugar and it must have been some hidden disease that he had caught out East while serving as sailor

.

When Mr. Hood died the whole lane went into mourning. Every house kept the blinds pulled down over the windows as a sign of respect and the children were not allowed to play outside. The lane was never a busy place, but in between Mr. Hood‘s death and the funeral the only sounds to be heard were the sounds of nature; of dogs occasionally barking; the clop of horses hooves on the tar seal. On the day of the funeral everything associated with the funeral was black the hearse, the horses, and the clothes of the people attending. The residents of the lane stood silently as the coffin was carried out the front door of No.5. As the procession moved down the lane the church bell started tolling in the distance. I was not allowed out but had a good view from behind the front room curtain. Not long after the funeral Mrs. Hood went to live with her daughter who lived with her husband and her husband’s father a Mr. Waller, in a terrace house almost opposite.

Mr. Waller was a man of habit and every afternoon around 4 p.m. and Sunday morning about 11a.m. he would walk down to the Fox and Hounds carrying an empty glass jug. After about 15 minutes he would return home with the jug of what I assumed was beer. On his way back he would always look intently at the jug probably to prevent spilling any of the liquid. He didn’t stagger in any way but because his concentration on the liquid in the jug was such he rarely travelled in a direct line and on a number of occasions he would bump into a fence or tree.

The Ashby’s then moved into the house at No. 5. Mr. Ashby was also employed as a stoker at the hospital. When they moved in they had two children Michael who was a year younger that I and a small girl, Jill. When the air raid shelters were installed we used the one in their garden as a playhouse as his parents had put bunks and mattresses in it. On some occasions during heavy raids they, slept in the shelter.

After our house there was an area of land that was owned by Mr. Stoneham who had lived in our house prior to his retirement. One side of this land was bordered by the hospital fence and on the road side it was bordered by an elm hedge. At various places in the hedge blackberry grew. The blackberries we picked and ate at the first sign of colouring. Part way along this hedge stood the only street lamp in the lane. It was fuelled by gas and each evening the street light was activated by a man employed for that purpose. All the lights in the village were powered by gas and during the day only a pilot light operated. The lamp lighter rode a bicycle and carried a long pole with a hook type arrangement on one end and was able to switch the main gas supply on or off without slowing or getting off his bicycle.

Next came three more terrace houses I do not know who owned them. In the first one lived Mrs. Arnold who was an old lady who I am sure shrank in height as I grew taller. She had a wooden rain water butt by her back door and she used this water for making tea because she stated that the normal water that came out of the tap gave tea a terrible taste. I’m sure the taste would have been different as our water supply was saturated with chalk and if one held a glass of water up to the light it always appeared slightly cloudy.

In the next two houses lived the Roy’s. Although the Roy’s were two brothers they were quite different from one another. Only one had any children. A boy who was about 10 or 11 years older than me. Strangely his Christian name was Robert I didn’t realize the significance at the time but of course everybody referred to him as Rob Roy. One of the brothers used to go the Fox and Hounds on a Sunday morning and always had a large flower in his button hole. The other was rarely seen out.

Beyond these houses the hospital fence moved out to border the road and then gradually the fence disappeared behind small bushes and as the lane progressed the bushes became trees. Many of the trees were large chestnut trees and after a frost there would be many chestnuts on the ground to be collected. The main problem was that eating too many chestnuts caused a sore throat.

Starting again at the entrance to the lane on the opposite side, first was the corner grocer /general store and its storage sheds Then three more terrace houses these were of a better standard as each had a bay window. In the first lived the relatives of the Hoods who lived at No. 5 Liddon Terrace. This Mr. Hood was a tree cutter who made a living coppicing the chestnut trees that grew in the wood. These poles were used as line props, bean poles etc. He only ever used an axe and it used to amaze me the ease with which he could cut through quite thick branches.

I cannot remember who lived in the middle house but Mr. Waller lived in No. 3. His house had a drive down the side. His middle-aged daughter lived with him and his wife and none feature much in my memory. What does stand out in my mind is the fact they were the only people in the lane to have a car, which came out of the garage on rare occasions.

The next house was in fact a bungalow and in it lived the Heskieth’s a rather secretive couple and I thought that they were very old. The bungalow was surrounded by a high wooden fence with an even higher privet hedge inside the fence. As this fence was directly opposite Liddon Terrace it was ideal for bouncing a ball against or using as a boundary for kicking a ball about in the lane. If the ball happened to go over the fence the unwritten rule was that it would not be returned until the next day and only then if we went and asked for the ball and apologized for kicking it over the fence.

The Heskieth’s land bordered on to the Finn’s who had the largest piece of land in the lane. They had an apple orchard, numerous sheds, and chicken runs, a large number of chickens and a couple of goats. The chickens were kept for egg production. The goats were milked. The house was large, not in the number of rooms but the size of each. In the front were bay windows and at the back a French door opened on to a large lawn where Mr. Finn hosted Lawn Bowl players. The Finns had two or three dogs and they went walking with the dogs on Sunday afternoons. When my parents and the Finn are met they always stopped and talked.

The Finn’s house stood back from the lane behind a high wrought iron fence with a double gate. On each side of the gate grew large May trees which gave a great pink display in the spring. Between the wrought iron fence and the house was lawn and just a few feet away from the house were two old cherry trees which each year became a sight to behold when they were laden with ripe, plump red cherries. On side of the house was a walled garden that at some stage had had a swimming pool in it. However the swimming pool had been filled in and the area sown in lawn. The inside walls had fruit trees that were frost tender growing on them. These were peaches and figs and were espaliered. .

I liked Mr. Finn and on occasions he would let me go with him to collect the eggs or watch him milk the goats. He also gave me a number of items that I treasured. One was an old pocket watch that no longer worked. I took it home and took it to pieces in an attempt to get it to go. Of course I failed but I spent many hours attempting to put it back together.

The roof of their house was made of golden red tiles the pinnacle was finished with one that looked like a question mark. On one occasion when it was raining and the sun’s rays had formed a rainbow over his house Mr. Finn said that if I watched carefully I would see the rainbow disappear into the pinnacle tile because that’s where rainbows slept. He then commented that you never saw a rainbow in the dark because they had gone to sleep. Of course I believed him and used to watch every rainbow carefully. My mother and Kathleen said that he was pulling my leg and for a long time I was not sure. It must have been about 1938 when on one Sunday he collapsed and died.

The next house up the lane was occupied by a blind man and his house keeper I cannot recall his name or hers except that all the village boys referred to her as Trixie. She used to dress in what we thought were old fashion clothes and rode a bicycle with no concern for her safety or anybody else‘s Her method was to continue riding head down constantly ringing the bell on her bicycle, this included crossing the main road at the bottom of the lane and she had many near misses.

Beyond the houses was a large field bordered by woods. On one occasion when the crop in the field was potatoes there was a thunderstorm with very heavy rain so much so that the lane became covered with potatoes and mud.

Together with other boys from the village I spent many hours playing in the woods. Here we built make believe fortresses and camps; made bows and arrows out of branches from the chestnut trees and throwing sticks out of the yew tree branches. I do know who owned the woods. The lane passed through them and no part of the woods was fenced in. Half way through the woods the road forked with two exits on to the main London coast road, Watling Street. One fork passed a farm with a pond where in the spring it was possible to catch tadpoles or find frog spawn. The other passed a gipsy camp and the local rubbish dump.

In spring vast areas of the woods were transformed into a magical wilderness with bluebells, primroses and anemones. In the large trees rooks nested and in the hazel nut bushes blackbirds, thrushes, jays and robins built their nests and brought up their young. There many grey squirrels that also built nest-like structures to house their young within the oaks and chestnut trees.

The wood was a wonderful place for small boys where imagination ran free whether it was playing cowboys and Indians or explorers. We built small fires and roasted potatoes. Our parents forbade us the use of matches but we found that by getting a dry piece of dead wild Clematis and lighting by putting it in the fire at home it would continue shouldering for very long time. The method of carrying the shouldering wood was to place the wood in a tin of some sort usually a cocoa tin. Once at the site where we were going to light a fire we could usually produce a flame by blowing on the shouldering stick and adding some dry grass.

HOLIDAYS

Once a year we went on holiday to visit my father's sister, Daisy and her husband Don primarily because my father's mother lived with them. To go on this holiday was a logistical nightmare. The day before departure suitcases were packed. The one I helped pack was filled with vegetables. The main item being peas still in their pods. I do not know what was in the other suitcases but there were always four. I now look back on this journey in horror and with admiration when I think of my mother who was quite short and very thin carrying two very heavy suitcases. I could not lift them and the best I could do was drag one and this, of course, I was not allowed to do.

We would start early in the morning walking to the bus stop at the bottom of the lane When the bus arrived the suitcases would be stowed in the space under the stairs. Mother always stayed on the lower deck to keep an eye on the cases and my father and I would climb the stairs to the upper deck. This part of the journey was rather short as we alighted by the cemetery on Watling Street. This was the end of a fare stage and by alighting at this point and walking the 150 or so meters there was a saving of a penny each on this part of the journey and other penny each on the next which was the bus to Gravesend.

At Gravesend we alighted at the bus station and normally had some time to spare before boarding the Maidstone and District Bus to Chatham. As soon as we got off the bus the routine was always the same mother headed for the toilet as there were no toilets on the buses, I guess I probably had a need to go as well. Mother would the find a seat with the cases placed beside her and father and I would go for a walk. At Gravesend it was normally down to the River Thames where we could see many steamers at anchor. Beside the ocean going boats there were the red-sailed lighters and stubby tug boats. The steamers had their port of registration painted on their stern along with the ship’s name. So much activity, the smell of the river a mixture of rotting vegetation and coal smoke, stimulated the imagination of what it would be like in the foreign parts and I always wanted to stay longer.

Back at the bus station we boarded the bus to take us to Chatham. I always wanted to sit in the front seat upstairs deck because from this seat I was able to see all that went on. From the vantage of the upstairs seat there was a view over most walls and fences. The most exciting part of the journey was going over the river Medway at Rochester where on some occasions there were flying boats at anchor. These were the first planes I had ever seen on the ground and I believe they were built in a factory nearby.

At Chatham we again changed buses. This next bus was also operated by the Maidstone and District bus company and took us to Canterbury. We passed through what seemed to me to be exiting towns with strange sounding-names such as Sittingbourn, and Faversham and all the time getting nearer to the sea. On one occasion on the return journey to Gravesend the bus broke down and all the passengers alighted as the bus did not have enough power to get up the hill. The men assisted by pushing the bus whilst the women and children walked up the hill. The breakdown had something to do with the gears as at the top of the hill the driver left the bus and went to a farm house and came back with some rope. This he attached to some part of the gear system and off we went with much graunching each time a gear change was necessary.

This breakdown was unusual although it was not uncommon for the engine to overheat then the driver would stop. The bus conductor would take a watering can kept on the bus for this specific purpose and go to some farmhouse to obtain some water.

The next bus change was at Canterbury. The buses operating out of Canterbury were bluey-red, a much nicer colour I thought. The bus station at Canterbury was by far the best bus station with rooms to wait in. On the trip down in 1938 and again in 1939 in many places around Canterbury large pylons had been built and strung between them were many wires and there was much discussion as to what was being erected. I was aware of the general situation regarding the prospect of war and I had read in the comic books about death rays and I was sure this array of pylons was a wonderful British invention of a death ray that would bring down any enemy aircraft. I eventually discovered that these were the aerials associated with the radar system.

The bus we travelled on from Canterbury was a single-decker with only a driver, all other being double-deckers had conductors to collect the fares and also rang the bell to signal the driver when to proceed. On this route I don’t think there were any specific stopping points but passengers explained to the driver where they wanted to get off and he obliged. This bus travelled though the village of Sandwich and about here I wanted to stand up because it was possible to see the sea. It was not many miles further on that father would talk to the driver and arrange for the bus to stop at the road leading to Bettshanger Colliery. At the road junction Uncle Don and Aunt Daisy would be waiting and we would then walk the 500 yards or so up the hill to their house. From the junction there was a view of the derrick holding the giant wheels holding cables that raised coal from beneath the Kent countryside

Uncle Don Guthrie was a coal miner who worked at the local coal mine of Bettshanger. Their house was a miner’s cottage at 12 Broadlane and was part of a settlement attached to the colliery and owned by the colliery. Bettshanger is only a few miles from the seaside town of Deal, and from their house it was possible to see the sea and in the distance the town of Ramsgate. The settlement was solely for the housing of miners and the mine infrastructure. From the outer edge of the settlement the quiet, picturesque countryside of Kent rolled over the horizon.

Bettshanger was built in the form of a circle, with a circular road that passed the entrance to the colliery. There were houses on both sides of this road. Broadlane was part of the main road before the beginning of the circular road. The houses were perfectly aligned so that each garden path virtually ran into the path of the house opposite. This meant that the majority of tenants took short cuts through each other’s property. I assumed that because all were miners who worked together there was much more co-operation than normal.

I also had another aunt and uncle who lived in the settlement, that was aunt Violet and her husband Jack Davies who, like uncle Don worked at the mine. They had four children John then Ken followed by Zoë and Verna. To get to Violet’s house it was possible to go down Daisy’s garden path through the gap in the fence along the neighbour’s path and out onto the circular road and Violet lived a few houses along.

Aunt Daisy’s house was so different from my own it was more like a railway station with people coming and going all day and most stayed and had a cup of tea. I remember the postman, the milkman, the baker, the vicar, some miners going or coming from work collecting bicycles and people who came for no apparent reason. No one seemed to knock most just opened the back door called out and walked in.

Just before the start of the houses in Broadlane there was a large play area with swings, slides etc. and beyond that some Allotments. There was an area called The Rec and it took me a long time to sort out that Rec was short for recreation. On one side of the area stood the towering slag heaps containing the spoil that had been removed from the mine and beyond them the two derricks housing the large wheels that carried the cable that hauled men and coal from the depths of the mine.

The house at 12 Broadlane had one feature that made it very interesting. Down stairs there were three rooms; a very large dining/ living room, a large kitchen and a bathroom. Any cooking was prepared in the kitchen but cooked on a very large Kitchener in the dining/ living room. The living room had two large casement windows the bottoms of which were quite low so it did not matter where one sat in the room it was possible to see out. And what a view was afforded out across farm land. It was possible to see the swallows and house martins darting over the ripening corn. Beyond the farm land were the towns of Sandwich, Pegasus Bay and Ramsgate, and in the distance the sea with occasional boats sailing into view. At night the coloured lights of Ramsgate could be seen glittering in the darkness.

The nearest town was Deal, a seaside fishing and holiday town complete with pier. With its theatre and amusement arcades it always seemed an exciting place filled with a large number of people.

Just beyond Deal is the garrison town of Walmer complete with its castle. A visit to the town meant that I got to ride on the small single-decker bus that plied the area. The buses were operated by the East Kent and their bluey-red buses always meant seaside to me. The main shopping area of the town was one street back from the beach and even here that fishy, salty scent of the sea was strong but once up on the beach promenade that aroma was over powering. Cockles, jellied eels and whelks were sold from roadside stalls and boats were pulled up on the shingle with the owners offering day trips or trips for just an hour. On a clear day it was possible to glimpse the outline of the coast of France. On the beach people dozed in deck chairs, or swam or paddled in the sea and above all there was the sound of the waves crashing on the beach. The beach at Deal is mostly shingle and in many instances rather steep so often above the crashing of the waves was the sound of stone grinding against stone as each wave receded before the next came crashing in.

Along the beach path south in the direction of Dover was the life boat station with the lifeboat poised ready for a dash to sea for some rescue. On a number of occasions I joined the crowd that watched the crew practice launching the boat the practice began with the siren sounding the call to man the boat. The sailors dressed in oilskins, ran to the boat and then the boat slid down the ramp and splashed into the sea. This practice was fairly regular and as the lifeboat service was operated on donations during the practice a collection box was passed amongst the crowd. Everybody who donated received a paper token in the shape and colour of a life boat complete with pin to wear to show support for the service. Past the boat ramp and lifeboats on the opposite side of the road is Walmer Castle the home of the Royal Marines. There were observation positions where it was possible to see the parade ground and I’ve watched the soldiers drilling with a military band playing, all of which was very exciting to a small boy.

THE PRE-WAR YEARS

There was constant talk of war for the whole of 1938. The BBC news was broadcast each evening and was listened to in deathly silence. This was particularly so when the British prime minister visited Munich and met with Herr Hitler

The first confirmation that war was coming was the German annexation of the German-speaking area of Czechoslovakia, followed by a number of incidents in and around Danzig on the Baltic coast.

During this time the Air Raid Precautions, shortened to ARP, came into being. At the bottom of the lane a hut was built to house the local group and together with other village boys I helped to fill sandbags with soil from the banks of the lane that ran through the wood. The sand bags were used to encase the hut.

Leaflets were delivered to every house detailing the need to paste brown paper strips across the windows to prevent injuries from flying glass should a bomb fall nearby. There were detailed explanations for the need of a complete blackout as any light would assist enemy aircraft in finding their way. Part of the duties of the wardens was to check every house in the area at night to ensure no lights were showing. Many exercises were held with the warden knocking on the doors of any house showing a light.

Whilst this was going on in England, war was declared between Finland and Russia and the newspapers showed pictures of burning houses. The fires had been caused by incendiary bombs dropped in great numbers using a new method of delivery. The news reports stating that many small bombs had been packed in a larger bomb and when the bomb was being dropped from aircraft the large container ejected large numbers of smaller ones each small one bursting into flames on impact with the ground causing many fires at once. This type of bomb had been named by the press as a Molotov cocktail referring the Russian foreign minister at the time, a Mr. Molotov. I have since learned that it was not the incendiary bombs that were called Molotov cocktails, but bottles filled with petrol with a cloth used as a cork and ignited and tossed into the Russian tanks by members of the Finnish army.

The fact was that it could well be British homes burning and many demonstrations were held showing how to use a water pump as a method of extinguishing these types of bombs. . The stirrup pump was used in conjunction with a bucket of water, the pump being used to take water from the bucket and produce a small stream or spray of water. When war did come the pump was completely useless.

As 1938 turned into 1939 a new type of defense appeared in the sky this was helium filled balloons in the shape of an airship. These were tethered to the ground and placed in and around cities and ports and other places that were liable to attack from the air. The idea was that low level attacks would be prevented as it would make it too dangerous for the enemy planes to try to negotiate between the wires. These balloons were called Barrage Balloons and I could many of them from my bedroom window.

When war came the balloons were raised every day at dusk or when an air raid was pending. During high winds some balloons floated away from their moorings and caused considerable damage by dragging their steel cables over power and telephone lines and house tops.

About this time all young men of certain age were required to join the territorial’s who were part time soldiers, sailors, or airmen and this was the start of universal conscription. These men trained at weekends and occasionally at weekly camps. They were required to report for active duty should war be declared.

Mr. Mills who lived at No 3 Liddon Terrace and Don Barker who lived in the lane were of an age to join the territorial’s. Don Barker was just 18 and had not long started work travelling to the City of London each day. The difference in the two was quite pronounced. Mr Mills I think his Christian name was Jack was a rough and ready type who took things in his stride and appeared to enjoy the marching and other training and seemed reluctant is discard his uniform even when digging the garden. Don Barker was a mother’s boy and had secured an office job and dressed the part in smart suits. His military uniform seemed out of place. Prior to the actual declaration of war he was rarely seen in uniform.

It was about this time that gas masks were issued to everybody and on certain days we had to take them to school so we could be taught how to put them on and generally practice their use. At school we were instructed mainly on what precaution we should take in the event of an air raid. Brick air raid shelters were built in the school play ground and on the village green. The one on the village green was built on the area we used to play football and cricket. We had many practices in going to the shelter, a whistle being used to replicate the siren warning system that had been instituted.

So began the school holidays in 1939. My parents had decided to journey to Aunt Daisy’s at Bettshanger as had been their practice for a number of years. I remember nothing specific about this journey and I did not know that my father had to go into hospital for an operation and that I was to be left with my aunt and uncle for some time. I was quite excited that I was to be left behind at Aunt Daisy’s. I teamed up with a boy who lived next to my aunt and he showed me the lanes and byways of the area and on occasions we were taken to various beaches, it was truly a wonderful holiday.

Each Sunday I went to church with my uncle and aunt who attended services regularly. Uncle Don had a fine voice that soared above the rest of the congregation. He always had boiled sweets in his pocket and he would pass one to me every time the congregation started singing a hymn. He said that I was tone deaf and it was better if I did not try to sing. It was now common for people to carry their gas masks when away from home. Most were still being carried in cardboard boxes with twine for a strap and looked so out of place over the shoulders of parishioners in their Sunday best walking through a chest-high field of corn.

WAR TIME - THE BEGINNING

I was eight years old and on the morning of Sunday, 3rd September, 1939 I was seated with my aunt and uncle in a pew at Betteshanger parish church. The congregation stood as the vicar appeared and walked to the front of the altar and announced that war with Germany had been declared. No sooner had he made the announcement than the air raid siren wailed. Information had been circulated that if war broke out all works sirens or hooters would emit a series of short blasts to warn of approaching enemy aircraft and for everyone to take shelter. A long continuous blast was to signify all enemy aircraft had departed. On hearing the siren the congregation immediately left the church, some running, and made for a stand of pine trees and lay down. From the pine trees we had a clear view of the Betteshanger Colliery which we all expected to be bombed. No aircraft came into view and after about 15 minutes the All Clear sounded and as people stood and dusted the pine needles from their Sunday clothes there was much talk of what to expect next.

I must have been sent home but I do not remember the journey. What I do recall is that on arriving back the village was overflowing with evacuees. After dark there were no street lights and all cars had hoods placed on their lights so that all light was directed to the ground.

As the evacuees arrived they were billeted on people who were compelled to accept them. Because my father was sick in bed having just been discharged from hospital after an operation we were spared. It must have been a great strain on many people. The Ashby’s next door who had three children, Michael, Jill and a baby a few months old, had a woman and her two school aged children billeted with them. Mrs. Mill who had three children, one just a baby, and whose husband had been called up for active service on the day war was declared, also had a mother and two children. This pattern was copied throughout the village and in some cases children without a parent were billeted on spinster women living alone.

The evacuees had all come from the thickly populated areas of London and many were away from their homes for the first time. They had never lived in a country area, so the stresses on evacuees and the villagers must have been enormous. The evacuee children were easily recognized because many had their heads shaved due to being infested with lice. The nickname given to them by the village children was ‘shickers’ because we considered they looked like newly hatched chicken. As the expected air raids did not eventuate it was not long before many drifted back home leaving behind a few women with children who found the arrangements acceptable.

There was only one family left in the lane after a couple of months. Mrs. Monday and two boys who had been billeted with Miss Hickson a spinster lady. I remember both boys who were younger than me, had rickets and had badly bowed legs.

With the turmoil of many men being away in the armed services and the influx of the evacuees, school did not reopen at the end of the summer holidays.

There was much to do the locally and together with many of the boys I joined members of the local ARP filling more sandbags from a sandy section of the hillside in Wood lane. The stacking of sandbags around the ARP post was now undertaken in earnest. When filled the bags were transported to the ARP hut on trolleys and anything else that had wheels. Windows had strips of brown paper glued to them to prevent glass from becoming dangerous flying missiles in the event of a bomb dropping close by.

The newspapers carried stories of the British troops being transported to France and taking up positions on the French- German border and the invincibility of the border defences built by the French after the war of 1914-1918. On the radio songs conveyed a popular image of life in the forces or life in the country under food rationing and songs such as “Hang out Your Washing on the Siegfried Line” and “Run Rabbit Run the Farmer’s got a Gun” were often heard.

During the day there were many planes in the air. Across the River Thames was Hornchurch and between the village and London was Beacon Hill. Both stations were to play major parts in the forthcoming Battle of Britain. The newspapers gave details of the silhouettes of German aircraft as well as British aircraft. I could recognize most of the planes in the sky. Tom McKay, a local lad, had a dart board in his parents’ garden shed and we cut out silhouettes and photographs of German aircraft which we used in various places on the board.

On the wall of the shelter built on the village green we chalked stumps for cricket and goal posts for soccer. With soccer it meant there was no need for a goal keeper at one end of the playing area. The rest of 1939 passed without any major incident. At Christmas the village seemed dull without any bright lights and with many citizens dressed in khaki.

By this time the ‘Home Guard’ came into being. The Guard consisted of men who were in strategic jobs and not liable for conscription and soldiers from the World War I who were now too old to be conscripted. The men paraded on the village green and outside the ‘Fox and Hounds’. In the nearby chalk pits the sound of gunfire echoed as they practiced with newly issued rifles. These men were supposed to be ready to defend the village should an invasion occur and at this stage not all had rifles and some paraded with pieces of wood shaped like rifles.

In January winter struck with a vengeance. In our house the water in the pipes and the water in the toilet bowl froze solid, both pipes and toilet bowl cracked. The glass in the window panes had frost on them inside and out. A glass of water by my bed was frozen solid. Snow drifts blocked the road to Dartford, and many adjoining roads. Supplies already in short supply were late arriving at the shops. The milk froze in the bottles left on the front door step and the frozen milk expanded and protruded an inch or so above the rim of the bottles. In the woods it was possible to track the rabbits and other creatures that lived there by the direction of their footprints in the snow. It was so cold that in some cases birds froze in the trees as they slept.

When the thaw came it brought further problems with burst water pipes and water damage. To repair the pipes it required the services of a plumber with a blow torch as all the pipes in the village were made of lead.

Sometime after the weather had started to warm up we had our first air raid. It happened during the night and on hearing the sirens sounding I was aroused and taken downstairs Sometime after I heard the thump of Anti-aircraft guns in action for the first time. Then a new, terrifying sound like a number of police sirens all going at once and getting nearer and louder every second. When it seemed that it was not possible to get any louder there were a number of loud bangs and the house shook. Not long after the all clear siren sounded and it was ascertained that no damage or injuries had occurred in the Terrace, we all returned to bed. Next day I went to see the bomb crater as the bomb had fallen halfway between the Fox and Hounds and the entrance to the Southern Hospital. To my surprise the crater was quite small and the only damage was a small portion of the wooden fence was blown over. The plane had apparently dropped two bombs the other one falling in the woods behind the hospital and the only casualty was a roosting rook. The locals reported that the bombs as being small 28lb size.

AIR RAID SHELTERS

Not long after this event large stacks of curved, corrugated iron sheets appeared in the lane. There was enough to provide every house with an air raid shelter. This style of shelter known as the Anderson shelter was installed in every back garden. The installation required a hole of about 9 feet by 8 feet to be dug to a depth of 3 feet 6 inches. All the local boys joined in the digging along with the contractor and any volunteers.

The corrugated iron was fitted together by means of nuts and bolts to an angle iron frame which after assembly was placed into the bottom of the hole. The sheets of iron were straight for about 5 feet then curved so that the opposing sides could be screwed together at the top. An angle iron frame similar to the basement frame circulated at about 3 feet 6 inches from the base. The ends were straight the same length as the curved ones and these also fitted to the frame. At one end one piece only came up to the frame height then a gap of about 3 feet and a small piece of the corrugated iron fitted to provide the top of the entrance The outside was then covered with about 12 inches of soil. The shelter was large enough to accommodate two bunks.

The shelter placed in our garden was never used for the purpose for which it was designed although most of the neighbours did use theirs correctly. My father stored the winter vegetables, carrots, potatoes, and parsnips in ours and for a couple of years when he was paid in kind for pruning an orchard apples were added to the store.

The Ashby family occasionally slept in their shelter, although most of time it was used as a children’s playhouse. As one can imagine these shelters were most unhealthy and always damp and frequently during rainy periods had water on the floors. As a consequence they were only used when there was an air raid with bombs being dropped locally. In the later part of the war people with small children were given an indoor shelter. I never saw one but I recall they were call Morrison shelters

RATIONING

Rationing was soon in full swing and to get one's allotted rations it was necessary to register with a particular shop. My mother registered two at the local corner grocer the other two at a grocery shop in the town of Dartford. My parents had some experience of rationing in World War I and knew that any extras the shop might get would be reserved to those registered with them although the basics were rationed most items were soon in short supply. By splitting your ration cards between shops it ensured that you were less likely to miss out.

I do not know the exact date that rationing began but its effect was immediate. Most items were either not available or rationed. There was a specified amount of butter, sugar, tea, flour and bread that could be purchased in a week. Other items were rationed by a points system whereby each person was allocated a number of points each week then the items that points could be used to acquire were notified along with the number of points required for that item. The number of points required for any item frequently changed. Not all the items were always in stock so you had to make a choice from those that were. Meat was rationed by money i.e. the cheaper the cuts of meat you bought the more in weight you received. At one stage even potatoes were rationed. The ration varied from week to week and sometimes there were extra allocations, as in midsummer there was extra sugar for jam making. Some weeks the stores did not get sufficient goods to supply their customers due to enemy action causing transport disruption. Local people did many things to assist in supplementing food supply. Public parks were dug up and planted with vegetables. Flower gardens gave way to potatoes and so on.

Every family in Liddon Terrace kept rabbits and I think every child in the village had to spend some time after school gathering food from the roadsides to feed their rabbits. My father built a number of hutches in the shed and acquired a breed of rabbit called blue chinchillas. Sufficient rabbits were produced for our family to have a minimum of two rabbits a week. These rabbits have a dusky blue fur and it was my job after the rabbit was killed and skinned to peg the skin out on a board to dry These skins were sold to a home craft business in Longfield and turned into things like gloves. This type of home-made commodity did not fall into the scope of things required to be rationed and the money provided me with school clothing and books.

Clothing was also rationed by a system of coupons. My mother had for years made most of the family’s clothing so was able to do a trade in the clothing coupons. By doing so she was able to get extra eggs in exchange for coupons from owners of the poultry farm. The selling of coupons or letting eggs go directly to a member of the public was of course illegal. It is now difficult to imagine life with so much restriction we even had to make special application to get kerosene for lighting and coal for heating and cooking as we had no other means for these functions.

Although there was considerable ‘black market’ it was mostly a reasonable trade of one rationed item for another. It was possible to get a special allowance if your health required it.

As the war progressed many areas of the country side were allowed to revert to nature. Hedges were not cut and areas around army encampments were not cultivated. These fields provided us with many opportunities to gather produce. I recall picking plums, damsons and apples from the hedge rows. Within cycling distance the army had a number of searchlight sites and gun emplacements for anti aircraft guns within these sites the areas that had been allowed to become over grown and were excellent places to collect rabbit food. Much of the fruit I brought home my mother preserved. Bottling some of it in milk bottles. The reason for the milk bottles was that other glass jars were not available. The tops of the milk bottles were sealed with candle wax.

WARTIME SCHOOL

War was declared in September during the summer school holidays and schools did not reopen for several weeks after the holidays ended. The problems for the primary school I was attending were the arrival of the evacuees, the departure of teachers in the Territorial Army and the fear of air raids. By early October a retired teacher in the village was offering part-time schooling for a few hours a day. By November there being no significant enemy activity school recommenced with teachers who had retired being lured back to the classroom, plus volunteer helpers.

In the field between the school and the water works that pumped the water for the village, a searchlight battery was established. It was pretty primitive at first with the soldiers living in tents, but as time went by Nissan huts were erected. By the end of the war this, like many of other sites, looked permanent with roads and gardens.

In art classes we were asked to make posters to promote the savings campaign the government had launched to help pay for the war. The general idea was to show by means of graphs how much saving the village was making towards the purchase of a fighter plane. Savings were made by purchasing Saving Certificates for 15 shillings each which could be cashed in for one pound after, I think, 10 years

Brick air raid shelters were built in the playground; these were windowless with nothing but a wooden bench around the walls to sit on. The only light was torchlight. I am not sure when but at some stage midday meals were provided and I guess this was due to the number of evacuees. I know I still went home for lunch.

When enemy air activity increased in 1940 school still operated but every time the alert siren sounded we all trooped to the shelters and sat on the wooden seats. If the All Clear had not sounded by the end of the school day we were kept in the shelters until collected by a family member or somebody designated by them. By the end of 1940 there were very few daylight raids as the enemy had switched to night raids and as far as I remember it did not matter how heavy or how near the bombing had been during the night, classes continued as normal. One instance I do recall was that during a night raid a mine intended to be dropped in the river Thames had landed on a telephone pole between the bottom of Woodlane and the entrance to the Southern Hospital. A number of houses were demolished and people killed. The next morning in class the teacher was taking the usual roll call when she came to the girl who sat in front of me by the name of Pat Hurley. She called Pat’s name and somebody in class said that she had been killed in last night’s raid. There was no further comment and class continued as normal.

In 1942 I failed to pass the eleven plus examination for entrance to the Dartford grammar school. However, I still had to leave the primary school and enrol at the Secondary Modern School. This school was a boys' only school on the outskirts of the town of Dartford the school was bordered by Watling Street the main London road to the Kentish coast. Watling Street had been built by the Romans and where the road from the village met it was one of the original stones bearing a number in Roman numerals reputed to be the number of leagues to a specific destination. I do not know which destination, but I suspect it was London.

The Secondary Modern school must have been built just before the war and compared with the village school it was very modern. It was built in the form of a hollow square with the classrooms built around lawns and flower borders. It had science rooms set up specifically for practical science, there were two long benches and each bench had built in positions for the attachment of Bunsen burners. There was a gymnasium and a large sports field. In the inner part of the square a Hurricane fighter plane had been assembled. The reason was that the school was used by the “Air Cadet Corps". There was a playground outside the quadrangle but by the time I attended much of it was covered with air raid shelters

Here for the first time I was being taught by specialist subject teachers, again most were retirees back for the duration. I remember that math and geography along with chemistry absorbed me most. On the sports field I played soccer and joined in athletics, although I was not very interest in athletics as I was not particularly good at it...

To get to school I had been given a bicycle, a second hand one that my father had purchased from the local junk dealer. There was nothing wrong with the bicycle it went very well and I treasured it but it was of no specific brand and the other boys called it an A.S.P. (all spare parts).

There were fewer day air raids and the night ones were less intense plus we had all got used to them and they did not raise any concern unless they appeared to be near. It was not until the arrival of the doodle bug V.1 flying bomb that we used the shelters. When these bombs started to arrive it soon became obvious that they were not aimed at the town of Dartford. On the morning of the first attack information was circulated that once the bomb had passed one was safe and the only time it was necessary to take cover was when the engine stopped as there was an interval of half a minute between the stopping of the engine and the bomb hitting the ground. Mostly we continued in class after the alert siren had sounded.

DUNKIRK

From the time the war started most people deemed it important to listen to the BBC news broadcast every evening at 6 p.m. And for the first three months of the war most news items were reports from some undisclosed military camp somewhere in France. These reports were largely on the activities of the troops rather than the fighting. The fighting in Poland figured prominently in these news broadcasts.

In the spring of 1940 the Germans attacked Holland and Belgium and in a few days overran both countries and began to make advances into France. The news broadcasts then referred to strategic withdrawals to prepared defence lines and then the fall of a number of French towns.

I don’t remember the exact date but when I awoke one morning I could hear the constant drone of vehicle engines. My sister Kathleen, who had left for work sometime after 7a.m., returned to the house and said that the main road was filled with an assortment of buses all filled with soldiers. So that I could see for myself what was happening, I walked down to the main road and stood outside the Fox and Hounds. The road coming over the hill from Horton Kirby and round the village green and on to the main road towards the Southern Hospital was jammed with buses. The buses both single and double deckers, were moving at snail’s pace. The seats of the buses had been removed and the bodies of the buses were filled with stretchers. The stretchers had been fixed to the roofs of the vehicles and were hanging like hammocks every stretcher had a soldier laying on it, many with blood-stained bandages.

The column was moving very slowly and people were getting on and off the buses, some were nurses in their blue and white uniforms, others were civilians with refreshments. The whole column was a hive of activity. The Southern Hospital had been taken over as a military hospital and all the soldiers were destined to receive initial treatment for their wounds before being transferred further inland.

The news papers and news broadcasts were filled with the evacuation of the remains of the British army in France and there was much speculation on how soon the German Army would invade England and what it would mean.

Within a few days soldiers were digging slit trenches at various places around the village. There was one in the empty piece of ground next to our house. The slit trench was about 6 to 7 feet long and deep enough so that an average man could stand in it and rest his arms on the ground without bending. After a few weeks the sides were covered in netting and palings to prevent the sides falling in.

AIR RAIDS

It was some weeks after the fall of Dunkirk before we saw any enemy aircraft but there had been much aircraft activity as there were two air force fighter aerodromes within reasonable distance of my home. On the other side of the river Thames was the fighter station, Hornchurch and between us and London was Biggin Hill. The fighter planes would fly very low overhead when they took off, and after a dogfight with enemy aircraft the pilots who were victorious would perform a victory roll on returning.

The first daylight air raid in our area occurred sometime in the summer of 1940. It happened to be a fine day with relatively few clouds. The German bombers flew in a formation of three abreast and seemed to travel quite slowly and it was possible to see the crosses on the wings and the swastikas on the tail planes. Each type of aircraft has it individual engine noise so we all knew what type of air craft was coming before it came into view. The bombers had a deep drone giving the impression of being heavily laden. Before they came into sight the noise of the firing of the anti-aircraft guns alerted us that aircraft were heading in our direction. Each shell exploded in a black puff of smoke indicating the position of the explosion. At this stage the accuracy of the gun fire was very poor with aircraft over head and shells exploding on the horizon. No bombs were dropped anywhere near my home as the bombers were heading for London. After some time the bombers returned making their way to their bases. The engines of the aircraft droning with a different pitch and fading away and in blurry distance of London columns of smoke could be seen rising. On this occasion we did not see any of our fighter planes.

The main danger to people of the village was from falling shrapnel and at times it was possible to hear the shrill whistling sound of the pieces of shrapnel as they fell to earth, and at other times there was a louder noise as pieces hit the iron roofs of the hospital wards. It was both exiting and scary and everyone felt great relief when the all clear siren sounded. Then neighbours talked amongst themselves discussing what they had witnessed and the implications of it.

Following these raid two immediate reactions took place. One was that school was closed until further notice and secondly, evacuees who had been sent to our area were now transferred to the west of England My parents were asked if they wanted me to join the evacuees heading west but they declined as did the majority of other parents in the village. I think the main reason was that invasion by the German army was expected any day.

From then on daylight raids continued until mid September. The first sight of the barrage balloons that had been hauled down for servicing being raised was warning enough that enemy aircraft were on their way long before the alert sirens sounded.

On a number of occasions the fighter planes from the nearby air force stations engaged the enemy aircraft in dog fights and it was possible to watch their progress from the vapour trails in the sky. One afternoon during a dogfight nearby a hurricane fighter aeroplane that had been slightly damaged landed in a field opposite the entrance to the Southern Hospital. The wheat crop had recently been harvested with only the stubble of the wheat visible above the ground so the plane made a perfect landing. When the All Clear sounded many of us went across the field to have a look at the plane. The only damage that could be seen were some perforated holes in the canvas covering of one of the wings and it appeared to have run out of petrol. By the time I arrived the plane was being guarded by the local policeman and members of the Home Guard. The pilot having walked to the gatekeeper’s kiosk at the entrance to The Southern hospital probably to telephone his base. By next morning the plane had been taken away

On another occasion a Spitfire was shot down and crashed in the field behind the Sunday school. I did not get near that aircraft but could see its wings bent back and protruding from field of potatoes, the fuselage pointing skyward. The next day the local policeman called on all the village boys to return the ammunition which had been taken from the plane.

About mid-day on a Saturday the German planes came in a number of formations in close sequence and there were a number of dogfights nearby. About 1 p.m. my father saw a parachute floating down and we could see that it was going to land in the field over the garden fence As it got near the ground I saw members of the local home guard climb the fence and armed with a couple of rifles and some pitch forks run towards the area where the parachutist would land. It was quickly ascertained that the pilot was British and he was helped to the nearest house for some refreshment. About an hour later my mother called out that there was another parachute falling. The procedure was similar except that on this occasion the pilot was a German and he landed on the other side of the hospital.

About 5 p.m the all clear sounded and my father said that he was going to walk up to the main London coast road and look over the river to see where the columns of smoke were coming from and he agreed that I could go with him. We left the house and started up the lane into the woods. We passed the hedge alongside an empty piece of land next to our house. The blackberries were just beginning to ripen and as we passed I picked some of the riper ones. To the left of us, as we entered the wood proper, there was the wooden fence of the hospital with ivy growing on it. In the early spring I had found a thrushes’ nest and had watched the eggs hatch and the chicks grow into fully fledged birds. The noise of battle had floated away and under the canopy of the trees in the wood the peace of the English country side had returned. The chestnut trees were acquiring the golden glow of autumn, their branches filled with ripening nuts the acorns and oak apples were still green. An occasional grey squirrel darted among the branches and over head the rooks were letting the world know that they were in control with their raucous call, their ragged nests filling the highest branches.

On the way we deviated from the sealed road and followed a rarely used track to inspect a holly tree as father wanted to see how many berries it had produced and whether it was worth coming for some holly branches at Christmas time. The tree was laden and my father commented that the saying was that a holly tree laden with berries indicated a cold winter.

We passed a small pond on the edge of a farm. It was from this pond that Tom McKay who lived at 3 Liddon Terrace and I had found some frog spawn and had taken some home in glass jam jars and watched the tadpoles hatch then grow legs and finally turn into small frogs. Walking through the wood the only noises were those of nature and seemed impossible to believe that not long ago and not far away human beings were doing their best to kill one another.

Father and I made our way back to the sealed road and emerged from the woods as the lane joined the main London coast road. In the grass on the edge of the woods wild strawberries had ripen and we picked a few. From the highway we could see across the river Thames and the smoke was coming from fires up river much nearer London and there was not much for us to see.

We were about to re-enter the woods when the alert siren again sounded and almost immediately the anti aircraft guns started firing. I saw several planes flying low over the waters of the river, puffs of smoke indicating the positions of anti aircraft explosions. These puffs of smoke were nowhere near them. When the planes were almost opposite they climbed and then rolled and started to dive and they appeared to be about to disappear in the water of the river. The planes were unusual in that their landing gear was down, unlike the landing gear of the Spitfires and Hurricanes that folded in to the wings. About half way down from the top of their climb I saw objects fall from the planes and as these objects fell the planes pulled out of their dive. The falling objects were bombs and they were dropping them on a refinery that manufactured margarine.

From where we were standing the noise of the bombs was muffled compared with that of the anti aircraft guns but within seconds of the bombs landing the whole area was a sea of flames with thick black smoke filling the north eastern sky and drifting eastward.. We watched for a short time then made our way home back through the woods.

On arriving home we could see the flames from the fire towering above the hill that stands between Darenth village and the river Thames. When darkness fell it was possible to read inside our living room without the aid of any other light even though the fire was over 10 miles away.

My mother had two major concerns the first was that the light from the fire would guide the German bombers back to our general area and two that the wind would change and everything would get covered in soot. The fire burned for days, it also signalled the end of mass daylight raids although there were occasional alerts during daylight hours for the next four years.

The Germans then changed to night raids which were more frightening than the day light ones. Each evening as dusk was falling the barrage balloons skirting London were raised. On most nights, not long after dark, the alert siren sounded. During these times my father still slept in his bed upstairs only getting up when the gunfire was intense or when bombs had been dropped nearby. My mother and I curled up under the stairs and my sister Kathleen under the kitchen table. These were our sleeping arrangements for many months.

The British had positioned gun boats on the river Thames and had a system of mobile anti aircraft guns that were moved around the countryside. The noise from their intense fire was not only deafening but made the house shake. This along with thud of large pieces of shrapnel hitting roofs, including our own, scared me out of my wits.

On a number of occasions bombs fell nearby. I knew when a bomb was on the way by the whistle it made flying through the air. As it got nearer to the ground the louder the whistle then there was the bang and at that stage I knew that it had not hit our house. Most of the bombs that fell nearby landed harmlessly in open fields but on several occasions houses were damaged by blast causing plaster ceilings to fall and windows to break. Fortunately our house was not damaged in any way other than slates on the roof were cracked which was caused by shrapnel from anti aircraft artillery.

At school, us boys collected shrapnel in the same way as we had collected marbles. The most prized pieces being the nose cones of shells.

During the night time bombing life continued as normally as possible. At times the buses had no windows these having been blown out by some bomb blast but the buses were still serviceable. On a couple of occasions strong winds caused barrage balloons to break free from their moorings, dragging their steel cables across fields, roof tops and power lines.

In the fields crops were planted and harvested in the normal way with the help of women from the village. One year, probably 1942, two haystacks of wheat were built when the corn was harvested next to the ARP post opposite the “Fox and Hounds. This was normal procedure as threshing the wheat from the straw was carried out in the less busy months of winter. Before this could be carried out the village was subjected to a dousing of incendiary bombs. Most bombs were removed by wardens and volunteers, from gutters and buildings, by using long handled shovels and then covering them with soil. Unfortunately some bombs fell on the haystacks causing them to burst into flames. There was nothing to do be done but let them burn.

The incendiary bombs fell over a very wide area some in marsh-land and over the next couple weeks, together with other boys, I would try to find them and dig them up. Having dug the bombs up it was possible to unscrew the bottom portion and remove the detonator and shake out the gun powder. By the end of the war most homes had empty incendiary bombs somewhere around the home. Most were on the mantel piece in the living rooms above the fire places together with nose cones from artillery shell or large pieces of shrapnel that had fallen nearby.

Early in 1945 bombing became a rare event because the British had perfected a type of anti aircraft fire that was bringing the bombers down. This method was called a box barrage. The system was to set up a series of anti aircraft artillery in a specific pattern. Then each battery was designated to fire at a certain angle so that the shell exploded at a pre-designated spot. Each battery had a designated spot to aim at so that the shells would explode in the outer edge of a square. The firing of the guns was then coordinated so that they all fired at once. With the help of search lights and radar the technicians would wait until a plane entered the area in the sky set out as the square and at that point the guns fired. With continuous firing it became difficult for an enemy plane to escape the square with the result a far greater number of enemy aircraft were brought down.

In late 1944 my father was just leaving for his morning's work when he called out that a plane had been hit by gunfire and was on fire. I went to the back door and looking North East over the river Thames, I saw a plane with flames spurting from its rear. I watched as it headed for London, the fact that it was on fire did not seem to slow its progress at all. Its engine noise was different, instead of a drone it was more of a throb. About half an hour later there was another plane on the same route also on fire and then directly over head appeared a plane with stubby wings and flames shooting from its rear in time to the throb of its engine. The news broadcast that morning stated that Southern England was under attack from a new type of weapon, the flying bomb, soon to be nicknamed the doodlebug.

For the first week or so they came over every half an hour their route always the same with four or five to been seen at any one time. Within 48 hours of the first attack all the London barrage balloons had been moved from the London suburbs and were deployed in a ring around London, they were now in the sky between our village and the coast. The doodlebugs flew extremely low and for the first few days small arms fire was directed at them. From then onwards once they had passed the barrage balloon defence they were allowed to continue on until their fuel ran out.

On one occasion on the perimeter of the barrage balloon defence line at Green St, Green, one of the doodlebugs got trapped by the balloon’s wires. The craft’s wing had been caught by the wire and had slid along the wire until the wire was next to the fuselage. The doodlebug then rotated around the wire until it ran out of fuel, as it slowed it slid down the wire exploding on the ground controls of the balloon. I believe some the operating crew were killed.

As the weeks passed the number of doodlebugs decreased as the allied troops advanced further into France, Holland and Belgium. A general relief set in as the horrors of the last few years now seemed past, then one cloudless, mild spring Saturday morning there were two very loud bangs, one seemed to be directly overhead and the other towards London. The bangs were followed by a roaring sound. The vibrations of the explosions had hardly died away when the Alert siren sounded. In the distance a column of smoke was raising and we all looked skywards expecting to see planes, instead the sky above was filled with a large number of glittering objects. There was much conjecture as to what they might be, and many thought that somehow the explosion in the sky above us had resulted in us being able to see the stars in daylight. After what seemed a very long time, the stars began to look like confetti with thousands of glittering objects falling, the objects turned out to be very small pieces of aluminium.

The V2 bombardment had started. It was very unsettling as the rockets and their explosive payloads came intermittently and without warning. A number of people were killed or injured as it was not possible to take shelter from the rockets... Thankfully none fell near the village but Dartford and the surrounding districts received a number of hits.

It is difficult to remember exactly when we began to see the bomber formations of the British and American air forces heading out to bomb Germany. Because of publicity all the local boys were able to recognise the different types of aircraft of the two nations. I thought the American bomber, ‘The Flying Fortress’ was the most impressive. The Americans were carrying out day light raids and we would count those leaving and again on return to see how many were missing. The major part of the formation would return together then the stragglers would arrive, often a late aircraft would have a stationary propeller and sometimes smoke trailing behind.

As the war dragged on the number of aircraft going out on raids increased considerably and when the 1,000 plus raids started the departing formation would circle over head for a considerable time until all the aircraft were in position then at some prearranged signal all turned eastwards. On these raids it seemed impossible that so many aircraft could be in the air at once without colliding.

The next impressive sight was on D-Day when from early morning to well into the night aircraft could be seen flying eastwards. One part of the day the sky was filled with Dakota aircraft towing gliders. For the first time the aircraft had the undersides of the wings and fuselage painted in large black and white stripes so that they could easily be identified as allied aircraft.

THE ARRIVAL OF PEACE

In April 1945 I had severe pain on the right hand side of my stomach, the doctor was called and he called an ambulance and I was taken to West Hill hospital in Dartford. I was diagnosed with appendicitis. The operation was performed on V.E. day and I was most concerned when I was told a German doctor would do it. I was sure that as I was one of his country’s enemies I would not recover. However, all went well and a week later I was home.

When I arrived home there was considerable rejoicing as the Barker family had heard that their son who was one the first to leave the village in 1939 was safe and was expected home in the next couple of weeks.

Don Barker was captured in France in 1940 and had spent the last 5 years in various German prisoner of war camps. His last camp had been in Poland and he had spent a considerable time on a forced march. During this march many prisoners of war died from exhaustion and hunger. He was not the only returning prisoner and when time and date of any returning prisoners was known the village was decorated with flags and bunting, and depending which section of the village the prisoner originated from a welcoming group from that area met each individual.

I remember Don Barker walking up the lane passed our house being greeted as he passed. Some the neighbours who shook his hand started crying on seeing him close up. I recalled him going off to war a tall, pale-faced young man, now he was very thin and looked terribly old with bulging eyes.

A couple of weeks after the end of the war many villagers started piling the rubbish that had accumulated during 5 years of war on the village green. During war years bonfires had been banned and this was going to be a way of celebrating the conclusion of the European war. Before the bonfire was lit I was home from hospital and assisted with providing fuel for the bonfire. Some of village boys who had collected incendiary bombs earlier in the war and still had them, placed them in the bonfire along with old rubber tyres. On the night the bonfire was lit the green and surrounding road were packed with on lookers. It was a magnificent bonfire but unfortunately the heat from fire started to blister the paint on the doors of the nearest houses that were about 100 yards away so the fire brigade was called to control the fire. The ground under fire was so burnt that it remained bare for several years.

SCHOOL HOLIDAY AND PART TIME JOBS

The first job I had was a paper round. I collected the papers from the local shop and as there were a number of different publications it was necessary to sort the papers into order, so that the correct newspaper/s could be delivered to the correct customers. Having completed this task I then slung the large bag used to carry the deliveries over my shoulder and rode off on my bicycle to do my round. In some cases the customers had very long drives leading to their houses, unlike New Zealand where letterboxes are situated at the gate, it was normal practice to deliver the papers to the individual houses and either push them through the letter box or clip them to the door knocker

My next job was on the local cropping farm. I worked on the farm most school holidays from the age of about 13. To start with the jobs were simple but necessary; one was pinching the tips out of runner beans. Once I reached one end of the plantation, the beans had grown sufficiently to start at the beginning again. Another was hand weeding rows of potatoes. Over the 3 to 4 years I worked on the farm I did all manner of jobs from cutting cabbages which were lightly dusted with snow to walking behind a horse drawn hoe, hoeing between rows of cabbages.

Many memories come to mind and one that stands out clearly is when I was assisting an elderly farm hand cut marrows for market. Suddenly he stopped and ran a short distance to a bank that sloped down to marshy ground on the edge of the river Darent. He disappeared down the bank and in a couple of minutes he returned holding a rabbit in his hands. He explained that he would now have rabbit for dinner and that he knew the rabbit would be somewhere on the bank because he had heard it squeal. He said the reason for the squeal was that it was the cry of a rabbit caught by a stoat and if he got there quick enough he would have the rabbit and not the stoat.

Another memory is of a very foggy morning and I had been to the farm stables to collect the horse that I had been using to pull the horse hoe. I had been doing this for the previous three weeks. The horse was an elderly Clydesdale who knew more about hoeing cabbages than I did. He knew when it was time for his nose bag put on so he could have his mid-day meal and he knew when it was time to leave the field. The field was a considerable distance away so having placed his harness and blanket on him I climbed on sitting sideways on the blanket as was normal practice, and we started off along a farm track. Doodlebugs had been passing over at intervals for the past few weeks and the horse seemed not to hear them. We had not travel very far when I heard the sound of a doodlebug approaching, but being a foggy morning the sound echoed but I took no more notice than usual. Then the engine stopped followed shortly by an explosion the doodlebug had fallen quite a long distance away but because of the fog and the echo the horse took fright. He was a large cart horse and he started to gallop, I had never known him move other than at walking speed and I was so surprised I fell off over his rear. The only thing that was hurt was my pride and having to spend a great deal of time recovering him and calming him. This was particularly upsetting as the hoeing was piece work and I was being paid by the rows hoed.

The other job I had before leaving school was delivering mail in the lead up to Christmas. This involved being at the Dartford post office mail room by 6 a.m. to sort the letters in sequence of delivery. I was employed for about 3 weeks before Christmas until Christmas day when I made the last delivery. I made the deliveries by bicycle but being mid- winter I recall it being very cold riding the bicycle and then walking up garden paths to push the letters through the slits in the doors. It didn’t matter how far the house was from the road mail had to be pushed through the slot in the door of the house.

WOOLWICH POLYTECHNIC

In 1945 I was advised that I had been granted a scholarship to Woolwich Polytechnic. Woolwich is a suburb of London and is situated on the river Thames about halfway between central London and Dartford. The public transport between Dartford and Woolwich was, and probably still is, excellent. In 1945 it was possible to travel either by train or trolley bus. There were two train services one direct and one via a loop line with stopped at a number of stations. The trolley bus was a suburban service with many compulsory stops and frequent request pickup and set down designated places. I think the journey by trolley bus took twice as long as going by train. To get to the Polytechnic from the train station it was necessary to walk through Beresford Square that adjoined the railway station. The main feature of Beresford Square was the entrance to the munitions factory of Woolwich Arsenal

I found Woolwich to be a most interesting place. The square was a market with stalls selling an assortment of goods. There were butchers, fishmongers, grocers, green grocers and stalls selling clothes. At times there were preachers of various faiths extolling the benefits of their beliefs; people expounding different political creeds; believers in alternative medicine selling the benefits of their products, often with ‘believers’ in the crowd ready to demonstrate the benefits of using whatever 'cure-all' was being offered, followed by the hard sell of the product. This market operated summer and winter and at midday always seemed crowded.

There was an excellent fish market and at the end of a trading day some stalls would lower their prices to clear unsold stock. On numerous occasions I bought fresh herring to take home. Besides being a good price, fish had been very hard to get. Rationing was still in place for many items including meat, so the fish was a welcome addition to our diet.

This was an introduction to a world I had not seen before and it was fascinating. Woolwich was home to ‘The Arsenal’ where much of Britain’s military hardware had been made for over a century, and was the prime reason for the existence of the Polytechnic to produce technicians to be employed in the complex. The ferry at Woolwich was the last opportunity of crossing the river Thames before the water flowed into the North Sea. The ferry was a paddle steamer which was free for foot passengers but a fee was required for all vehicles. There was also a pedestrian tunnel under the Thames for foot passengers in a hurry.

During the weeks before I started at the Polytechnic there was much preparation as I had been given a grant to purchase the school uniform and the essential books and other equipment such as a tee square and compass. The uniform was a shirt with a collar, the Polytechnic tie, grey trousers, blue jacket and a cap in the school colours. Swimming was a compulsory subject so trunks were bought.

To get to the polytechnic was a journey of about two hours. I caught the 7.15a.m. Bus to Dartford then walked five minutes or so to the railway station and boarded the train going to central London. Leaving the train at Woolwich Arsenal station at about 8.45 a.m. I then had a five minutes’ walk to the Polytechnic. Classes started at 9 a.m. with a one and half hour lunch break. The final classes finished at 4.30.p.m. and if all went well I would arrive home at 7 p.m.

The course I was enrolled in was Engineering and the subjects were pattern making; turning, both metal and wood; blacksmithing; science; chemistry; English; French,; and physics with one afternoon a week devoted to sport. The sports ground was some distance away and required a tram ride to get there. Here I learned to play cricket and rugby. Swimming was included in with main stream subjects. There were 20 pupils in each class with 3 classes per year. There was also a building course run along similar lines.

The rules were strict. Any misbehaviour was punished with expulsion. Each year the classes were divided into ‘A’ ‘B’ and ‘C’ The top 13 was in ‘A’ with the poorest achievers in ‘C’. I started off in ‘A’ for the first year, ‘B’ for the second and ‘An ’again for the third year. Part of the scholarship was the provision of a mid-day meal and what I recall most is that the majority of the boys would not eat macaroni cheese or tapioca pudding.

All movements between classrooms were controlled and we marched in step. The same applied to the couple of 100 yards to the municipal indoor swimming pool. Here I learnt to swim along with everybody else in the class - failure was not permitted.

During the lunch break we were not confined to the Polytechnic premises so we roamed the town and the market square. Together with my fellow students I used to go to the market in Beresford Square and join the crowds listening to the soap box orators or wander down to the river and take a free ride on the paddle steamer ferry across the Thames and back. There was also a billiard saloon in a back street, it was supposed to be out of bounds but many times I played snooker there. I don’t recall any body playing pool.

Rationing was in still place and I often went to a small sandwich bar near the ferry loading ramp and buying bread rolls filled with corned beef - a rare treat.

The principal believed we should be exposed to the real world and when the general election occurred in 1946 the Polytechnic ran an election in tandem with the public one. The two courses combined to select candidates for the parties and the candidates held meetings in the assembly area in the school grounds. In the final week the candidates were required to address the school assembly and answer any questions. It made us all very aware of the policies of all political parties. After voting, the Labour candidate emerged as the winner.

The following year we elected the three prefects, the only requirement needed to stand for selection was the approval of the principal.

Religion was also brought into the curriculum in year two. For this subject the principal arranged for members of various Faiths to explain their beliefs. This made me see the world in a very different light as all religions seemed to make some sense

Towards the end of the third year companies would advise the polytechnic of any vacancies they had available and the principal would select students who he considered suitable for the positions offered. A vacancy was notified in the research and product control laboratory of ‘Standard and Telephones’ at North Woolwich. North Woolwich is that portion of the suburb on the opposite side of the river Thames, and the Principal considered that I would be a suitable candidate

STANDARD AND TELEPHONES

After attending an interview I was accepted as a junior laboratory assistant the hours were 9 a.m. to 5p.m and the wages two pounds ten shillings a week. I was allowed one afternoon a week to continue my studies.

To get to work I now had the extra journey across the Thames this I could do by the ferry or pedestrian tunnel under the river. The tunnel was used by a large number of people and always had the rank smell of stale air. This was due to poor air circulation and the habit of numerous people to spit it was impossible to walk through the tunnel without stepping in some spit.

The job was extremely interesting. The laboratory was divided into two sections; one was research the other material testing to ensure that goods coming into the factory met the specifications set by the company.

Standard and Telephones were manufactures of electrical cables, television cables, radios and microphones. As an employee on the staff of the chemical laboratory I was considered as ‘staff’ and wore a white coat. Those who worked on the factory floor started work at 7.30 a.m. and finished at 4.30 p.m. and wore blue overalls. All employees other than senior managers had to clock in and out. Staffs clocked in at the factory gate and were given a five minutes leeway before being docked half an hour’s wages. The factory personnel had to clock on in the area of the factory they worked in and no leeway was given for lateness. It took all those who worked in the laboratory at least 5 minutes to walk from the factory gate to the top floor of the building housing the laboratory.

The first job I was given was cleaning equipment that had been used in testing or experiments. This was much better than it sounds as it introduced me to the various items and their names. Then I was given the job of testing the special oil that was used in oil filled cables to ensure that the acidity was at an acceptable level. This involved meeting the tanker carrying the oil, taking a sample and testing it prior to the tanker discharging its load into the storage tanks. Another of my jobs was testing zinc -coated wire to ensure that the thickness of zinc was up to the specified level.

In one part of the factory was an electro-plating department. Before the metal could be plated it had be degreased, this involved the pieces of metal passing through a bath of carbon tetrachloride. I am not sure of the reason for taking samples but it was one of my regular functions. The bath was operated by women who wore leather aprons over their everyday clothes as their only form of protection. I do not know how they stood it, the fumes were overpowering and I was always pleased to leave the area. Testing lead to ascertain the level of cadmium etc. was another of the testing functions I was involved in. The factory produced all sorts of cables, many lead covered. I have often wondered how the men who worked the lead presses fared in later life

On the research side I assisted with a project that was trying to find a way to make a film of silver adhere to a ceramic and then have a copper wire soldered to the silver. On one occasion I had to make up a special solution that was to be sprayed on to the aluminium foil at the centre of microphones being manufactured for the B.B.C. Another job I assisted in was the distillation of mercury in a sealed retort to clean the mercury.

In the few months I was employed the company made the first long distance television cable, it was the one from London to Birmingham. My involvement was to make some of the polythene washers that were used to separate the inner and outer cables. This involved putting polythene in a press and testing levels of heat that produced the washers. I was busy going to work or coming home and had little time for a social life but I joined a youth club which I attended on Saturday nights.

After my first six months I was given a pay rise of ten shillings and about the same time started attending Saturday night dances at the ‘Bull Hotel’ The dances were gathering places for many young people and were strictly controlled. One had to be properly dressed to gain admittance which meant a suit or long trousers with sports jacket and tie, also I don’t recall anybody being drunk. There was always a band in attendance playing the latest dance music. The dances always finished at midnight and together with many other lads I would walk home. The girls would take taxis that had been pre-booked. All this came to an end in July 1949 when I was conscripted into the British Army. Unless one had a deferral note all 18 year olds were required to do eighteen months service.

THE BRITISH ARMY

I received call up papers requiring me to report to Boyce Barracks in Aldershot on 21^st July 1949. I left home with a small suitcase containing the basics, toothbrush, shaving gear etc, and travelled to London to join the train specified to Crookham the nearest railway station to the barracks. The train was packed with many others who had been called up. Not all were going to Boyce barracks the training camp for the R.A.M.C. How the people who arranged the call up decided that was going be sent where I do not know and I was quite surprised to be sent to join the Medical Corps.

As the train pulled into Crookham railway station I could see many army personnel plus army trucks. Among the waiting members of the army were a couple of drill sergeants barking orders, and marching up and down the platform. We were herded aboard the army trucks according to the depot we were destined for. The first thing I noticed was how high the platforms of the trucks were off the ground. I was 6 feet tall and I found it difficult to board without assistance.

It was not a long journey from the station to the barracks. I cannot recall the exact sequence but soon after we arrived we were documented and given an army number that was unique to each individual. We were told to remember the number because from now on names had been made redundant and we would be known by that number and in everyday situations only the last three of the eight numbers. I became 707. We moved into another building and had to undress, and we were given a superficial medical examination.

In the next room we were issued with our uniforms and other clothing, webbing and two pair of boots that were to last for the duration of our national service. We were then given brown paper and string to parcel up our civilian clothes to be sent home.

Then we were issued with army pay books to be carried at all time. On the last page of the army pay book is a simplified will to be filled just in case. We were also issued with a dog tag with army number on it and the dog tag had to be worn around the neck at all times. The dog tag was supposed to be indestructible and would assist in one’s identification if one died on the battlefield or elsewhere. The army clothing was thick and heavy and the boots stiff and new with a specified number of hob nails in the sole. Sometime during the induction process we had a personal interview with an officer who questioned us about our jobs in Civilian Street. I recall being asked if I had used a microscope which of course I had.

After initiation, a corporal marched 30 of us to a barrack room and instructed us on the procedures and rules. There was a specific way to make up one’s bed each morning with various items of clothing or equipment on display for inspection. There was instruction on how to polish the brass components of the kit, to polish the boots and the hobnails on the bottom of the soles. Brass was best polished by coating with a product called ‘Brasso’ firing the ‘Brasso’ and rubbing while still hot with a piece of cardboard coated with ‘Brasso’ and finally with a cloth. This needed to be done every day as the brass tarnished overnight. A similar method was used to polish the boots, boot polish was coated on the boots, mainly the toes, then burnt off and while still warm rubbed with the handle of a toothbrush and finally buffed with a cloth.

The rules were simple; anybody with a stripe on his arm or a pip on his shoulder was god and was obeyed immediately without question. The barrack room had to be kept clean and tidy; the main floor polished black with shoe polish and under the beds with brown shoe polish. This was not quite as bad as it sounds as the previous intake had done the same so it was just a case of maintenance. If by any chance anything in the barrack room was damaged the cost was deducted from our pay of 28 shillings a week.

Training started next day with instructions on how to march, when to salute and how to answer the instructors. Sometime in the first week a photograph of all conscripts was taken. There were courses on first aid and bed making in the military hospital. There were route marches and instruction on the use of firearms

Nobody was allowed to leave the camp for the first month, and after a month only if you has a pass which allowed you to be absent for specified time. To leave the barracks we had to pass the guard room where an inspection took place to see that we were properly dressed according to the army regulations. For any minor infringement of the rules one could be charged and taken before the officer in charge on that particular day. Usually the punishment was to be confined to barracks with an extra requirement to report to the guard commander at specific times for extra duties or inspections.

There was an unofficial competition that was unspoken but became obvious as the days passed to see who looked best in the uniform, with much effort being made to produce the best shine on boots and the sharpest crease on the trousers. With many different methods being used in an effort to produce a better result. Trousers were ironed using brown paper between the iron and the trousers and the trousers being placed under the mattress. Backs of jackets had the pleats sewn in. We were issued with three pairs of socks to last the duration, plus a cotton hold all called a housewife with needles, cotton and darning wool so that we could make any necessary repairs. When I was discharged on the 12^th August 1951 I still had the original three pairs of socks to hand in which, by this time were more darn than sock.

The army like most other organisations or industries has its own special language. Some of the examples are as follows. The dining room became the Mess; toilet blocks were ablution blocks; cafe became canteen. In the training camp we did not use plates but aluminium mess tins which we washed outside in large troughs of hot water. Being aluminium it was difficult to get the grease off and greasy tins were not very good for the next meal.

The canteen in the camp was run by the Salvation Army. This was well patronised as it was possible to buy small items like toothpaste and razor blades, and a variety of small cakes which were eagerly sought after as such items were not supplied by the Army catering corp.

The army did not like long hair. And the day after arrival we had to visit the camp barber, and pay for a haircut to comply with army regulations, short back and sides with very little on the top. From that day onwards we had to visit the barber on every Tuesday and Friday

During the 12 week basic training we did one day’s weapons training. As the medical corps main job was to render first aid to the injured with many of the officers being doctors, the main instruction after general military induction was how to care for specific types of injuries and how to record what action had been taken. Practice on carrying injured personnel in a way to protect them from further injury from any enemy action was a large part of the training. During our basic training we given immunisation injections for numerous diseases that we could encounter if sent to any of the various countries where British troops were stationed.

Blood transfusion was an integral part of modern treatment for the saving of lives of injured personnel and I’m sure I remember correctly that blood was donated to the blood transfusion service by every member of the barrack room I was in. I still have the little blue book showing my blood group as A4 positive.

After the first two weeks we were given a 10 hour pass and I visited the military town of Aldershot for the first time. In Aldershot was a large centre operated by an organisation called ‘N.A.A.F.I.’ This centre was a type of club to which every member of the British armed forces other than commissioned officers automatically belonged to on joining the forces. Besides a large restaurant and bars there were showers, a general shop and snooker and billiard tables. It was a pleasant place to spend a few hours and eat more interesting food. Another place to pass a few hours was the cinema. Passes for the cinema were issued every weekend provided you had not fallen foul of any army regulation.

Once I had completed my basic training at Boyce Barracks I was allowed a weekend pass 5 p.m. Friday to 10 p.m. Sunday and on returning was allowed to possess one set of civilian clothes. I went home in uniform as we were not allowed to travel on an army warrant unless in uniform.

On returning to barracks orders had been posted on the notice board with details specifying the regiment or corps to which each member of the course had been posted. There were I think about 200 on the course and for a long time I could not find my name and number. When I did find it I found that I was the only person being posted to Chester Military Hospital.

No-one seemed to know why I was being sent to Chester but, as instructed, I reported to the main office of the camp to collect a travel warrant and early in October 1949 with all my army goods, plus one civilian outfit, I was taken to Crookham station and boarded the train to London. I crossed London on the underground to Euston and caught the train to Crewe. Crewe is the junction where many rail lines converge and there was a need to change trains. Once in Chester I caught the local bus to Chester Military Hospital

CHESTER MILITARY HOSPITAL, LIVERPOOL ROAD, CHESTER

Chester military hospital serviced army personnel for most of northern England from Yorkshire down to the midland city of Birmingham. It catered for major injuries and some operations such as appendectomies and had a specialist unit for the treatment of Venereal diseases. It also trained orderlies for duties in the VD wings of army hospitals. When I arrived I found that I was to be included in an on-going training course It appeared that during an interview in the training camp I had said that I had been using microscopes in my civilian job. Some of the people had been on the course for a couple of months others only a month. The unit had a specialist medical officer with the rank of Major, a Sergeant and six trainees.

We were separated from the rest of the hospital and many times managed to avoid parades. The accommodation was in Nissan huts. Nissan huts were made of steel with the curved sheets forming an arch. Both ends were boarded in with one end having a door. Inside the hut was partitioned mid way along its length. In each half were four beds. There was no heating or insulation in the hut and no other facilities. During the month of January when it was very cold with icicles forming on the inside roof and snow on the ground outside, the eight of us in my hut slept in our clothes and only stayed in the hut to sleep. The rest of the hospital was warm and the ablution area had abundant hot water.

We were allowed passes every Saturday and Sunday but had to be in camp by 10p.m. quite often the trainees went out as a group and we attended dances in town and at the Nurses' Home of the city hospital. Mostly we wore civilian clothes as army uniform is very coarse and boots are not ideal footwear for dancing.

The training was extremely interesting with considerable hands on opportunities. For a while I just watched and helped with the cleaning. On one occasion the Colonel was due to carry out an inspection and everything in true army style had to be cleaned and polished. One of the jobs was the polishing of the windows and to reach the high one I was standing on a table and one of the trainees decided as joke to pull the table away. I fell through the lower window and needed stitches in my arm and wrist. That turned out to be my sole injury whilst in Her Majesty’s Service.

As time went on I was allowed to take samples of the fluids that were being excreted from the penises of the soldiers who had been referred to the VD wing. A fluid, usual greenish in colour, oozing from the orifice of the penis is a sign of a penile infection. A sample was taken with a piece of wire with a small loop at the end, the wire being attached to a wooden rod. The wire first being sterilised in the flame of a Bunsen burner. The fluid was then smeared on to a glass plate by moving the wire loop across the plate. After the fluid had dried it was stained and finally the plate was placed under a microscope.

Part of the training was to enable us to identify what was causing the discharge. After staining if the organism that causes gonorrhoea was present, it would show up as purple beans in pairs, the insides facing each other. In some cases it was not possible to specify the organism causing the discharge and these were recorded as non- specific urethritis. After we all had viewed the sample under the microscope the Major would look and comment on the quality of the sample and confirm or otherwise our diagnosis.

Another disease referred to the wing was a swelling on the penis like a weeping ulcer. In that case the sample of the fluid from the weep was placed on a glass plate and a thin circle of glass placed over the sample. When viewed with a microscope it was possible to see any bacteria and other organisms moving. If a wire like structure was seen moving like a corkscrew that was the spirochetes of syphilis. We also took blood samples from a vein in the arm of the patient for laboratory testing for syphilis. It was found that soldiers with gonorrhoea had a 30% chance of also having syphilis. Two types of blood tests were used, a Wasserman and a Khan.

When a soldier presented himself to the wing it was part of our duties to complete the documentation. When the basics of rank, number and name had been completed the patient was asked when his last sexual contact took place and whether is it was a casual or not. In number of cases it was a girl friend and once I recall wife. If it was casual acquaintance information was required as to where they met and was the liaison with a professional or an amateur. The idea behind the questions was so that the Major could suggest that they advise their contact to seek medical attention.

During basic training all soldiers who joined the British Army were shown a film on VD emphasising the perils of not seeking treatment but here in the wing we were shown both photographs and case notes of actual patients. With gonorrhoea there were the photos of eyes that had been blinded by the introduction to the eye of the bug that caused the disease and joints distorted by the bug getting into the joint causing gonorrhoeal arthritis. This was more than enough to suppress desires of any eighteen year old.

Part of the training was the administration of the treatment for gonorrhoea. This entailed injecting penicillin into the patient’s buttocks every four hours for 10 days.

Syphilis is a much more serious disease and the treatment was a course of penicillin plus an intravenous injection of an arsenic compound neoarsphenamine. I’m not sure of the intervals but many patients came back as out- patients to receive their injections.

Once a soldier was diagnosed with syphilis a lumbar puncture was carried out by the specialist doctor and the fluid tested. The blood was also subjected to two tests a ‘Khan’ and a Wasserman routine. The two tests were under taken as a false positive was not unusual.

Other diseases I saw at Chester were pediculus pubis, commonly called crabs. These are small spider like insects that infect mainly the pubic area and burrow under the skin. The other was genital warts.

Every soldier who attended the wing had a sample of blood taken to check for syphilis and was required to come back in 3 months. This did not always happen due to soldiers being posted or discharged from the army. Any soldier who was diagnosed with any venereal disease would have his discharge postponed until he was certified as non infectious.

ARMY OCCUPATION OF AUSTRIA

When we had completed the course and had been assessed and passed, we were asked where in the world that had British forces operating would we like to be posted. The others all filled in exotic place names from Egypt to Hong Kong. I left the form blank assuming that I would serve out my time as a conscript in Chester. A couple of weeks passed when I was called to the administration office and told that as there had been no volunteers for Austria I was to be sent there immediately So on the 18^th April 1950 I was sent on 7 days embarkation leave.

At the end of a week I reported to the Army Transport Administration at Liverpool Street railway station in central London to join a troop detachment on the way to the Continent. The journey to Harwich, the embarkation port, was uneventful. At Harwich the ferry used by the army was waiting for the journey across the North Sea to the disembarkation port of “The Hook of Holland’. We had a meal before boarding as the ferry sailed over night. On board we were shown our crossing quarters which hammocks were hanging from the roof of the cabin, the chains were attached both to the roof and the floor. Attached to the chains were canvas hammocks the space between each about 24 inches which meant that one could not sit up whilst on the hammock. There was not a lot of room between the columns of hammocks but during the early part of the night groups sat on their kit bags playing cards. As soon as the boat reached open sea the hatches were closed and we were confined below for the duration of the voyage. The North Sea had been one of intense action during the war years and I recall hoping that the navy had cleared all the mines and we wouldn’t attract any they had missed. The ferry operated a couple of times a week ferrying troops to occupied Germany and Austria so every phase passed smoothly.

We arrived in the early morning and were sorted in to various groups depending on our destination. At this port the army had set up an extensive transit camp with canteens, cinemas, showers, lounge areas as invariably there was much waiting. The cinemas showed continuous films which were always cartoons.

Eventually those travelling to Austria were paraded and marched to a train waiting at the platform. I can’t quite remember the exact duration of the journey to Villach in Austria but it was more than one day. By the standard of travel that I had experienced in U.K. this train was most impressive. There were four soldiers allocated to a compartment. Beside the compartment a corridor ran the length of the carriage. In the compartment upper bunks could be let out of the walls so that the four in each compartment each had a bunk to sleep on. We had been given a pamphlet explaining the journey. It was, of course, the first time any of us had been outside U.K. and all were keen to see this new world.

We first travelled across Holland with its many canals and waterways. One of the first things I noticed was the volume of bicycle traffic on the canal pathways. In the England we had left behind there were far fewer cyclists plus they travelled on the same roads as motor vehicles. Alongside the railway line the fields contained circular patches where the growing crops were stunted and in freshly ploughed fields the tell tale signs of bomb craters where the bombs had brought subsoil to the surface.

The train slowed as we crossed the river Rhine and entered Germany. The first major stop was the city of Cologne, as we entered the city the open ground became more and more pock marked as a result of bombing. The actual train station still had gaping holes in the roof. Here, for the first time, we the heard the guttural sound of a German announcer giving instruction to passengers. I remember it being spine chilling when recalling what might have been on hearing the words 'Achtung-‘--(Attention) then the call to hurry “snell”. As the train left Cologne Station we passed by streets with no buildings but each side of the street piled high with debris. The only clear areas were the roads. There was very little traffic, only an occasional pedestrian pushing a cart.

The train line then followed the river Rhine up stream and on the hill sides above the river we saw many castles, signs of past conquests and wars. We all kept a look out to see who would be first to sight a mountain, for most of us the highest hill we had seen was a mere 600 or 700 feet above sea level.

Every so often the train stopped at a designated station where we all alighted and marched to dining rooms for our meals and the use of the ablution block

Besides reading or playing cards much time was spent looking out the window at the many fabulous sights of snow-capped mountains with castles seemingly glued to the mountain sides.

As we passed through many stations the uniforms of the railway personnel changed from the greenish blue rather square German to the flamboyance of the Austrians with their leather shorts with braces joined across the chest. Their slouch hats with the shaving brush decoration. It was all fascinating and exciting.

At last we arrived at Villach a junction of roads and railways lines and to the East was the route to Klagenfurt, Vienna and South East over the border to Italy and Trieste. The British army maintained a transit camp at Villach which was very well set up. Those of us going to Klagenfurt were paraded and inspected as we detrained and the local orders of the camp read out to us. The main piece I recall was that we were now on active service, desertion or giving assistance to any enemy of Great Britain would be subject to trial by courts marshal and the penalty was death by firing squad.

When we left England is was still quite cool and we were all wearing winter uniform and here in Villach with the temperature approaching 30 degrees Centigrade it was most unpleasant standing on the dusty parade ground so we were all pleased to be marched off. The locals were all in tropical uniforms with short sleeves and short trousers with long socks and cloth puttees hiding the tops of the boots.

There was a large dining area in the camp where we were served by Austrian waitresses who much to our surprise all spoke excellent English. Any attempt to use any German that we had gleaned from the English German dictionary and phrase books we had been given was corrected in faultless English.

Five of us were destined for Klagenfurt and were billeted over night and next morning an army bus arrived to take us to the military hospital. I’m sure we were all surprised to find that the driver was a local Austrian wearing civilian clothes who spoke excellent English. The journey from Villach to Klagenfurt was very pleasant. We passed through many small villages with typical Austrian houses with very steep roofs and doorways which in many instances were decorated with the skeletons of what I assumed were large eels. The reason for the steep roofs was so that melting snow slid off with ease.

From the road I saw many mountains, the most spectacular of which were those separating Austria from what was then Yugoslavia. As we neared Klagenfurt we passed a very large lake, ‘The Worthersee’ glistening in the bright sun. There were buildings on the lake side and in a couple of places churches. This lake was the destination of the rich and famous prior to the war and it was easy to see why with clear waters reflecting snow capped mountains and a warm climate in the summer months.

On entering Klagenfurt the transport turned north for a couple of miles to the village of Lendorf the base for the British military hospital in Austria. The British maintained two military hospitals in Austria the other one was in the Austrian capital of Vienna. In 1950 Austria was still divided into separate military zones one each for the Americans, Russians, French and British. Vienna was in the Russian Zone. Vienna was also divided into separate zones as was the rest of the country with the central district of Vienna being designated as an international zone with each of four powers taking control of the international zone in turn on a monthly basis. The British hospital in Vienna was on the outskirts of the international zone. The part of Austria I was in was flanked in the north by the Americans and to the east the Russian zone lay between us and Vienna on the southern border was Yugoslavia

Lendorf military base also contained the head quarters of the British military police in Austria. The British hospital at Lendorf had been converted from the Headquarters base of the German Herman Goering division, or the S.S. and within its perimeter there had been a small concentration camp. It was a most spectacular base with stone-walled buildings along cobble stone roads each building had two entrances with double doors, to get to the doors it was necessary to climb about eight or nine stone steps. Once inside the building the inner walls were all constructed of the same sort of stone as the outside each floor was divided into rooms for four personnel, and the rooms and the corridors were heated with radiators. At each end of the second floor there was a balcony large enough to seat about eight people. The roofs of the building had been extended so that the balconies were mostly dry and shaded. Let into the walls of the corridors were wooden open cupboards the interiors shaped so the rifles would fit tightly in the space.

There was a large assembly hall with polished wooden floor and on the outside wall a large swastika had once been displayed. This had been taken down by the time I arrived but the rust marks left behind showed it must have been quite impressive. The swastika I saw appeared to be weeping with lines of rust dropping from the rusty image on the wall. A large cookhouse and dining area were in a separate building.

The walkways were covered making it possible to traverse most of the camp without getting wet when it was raining. Outside the hall was a large parade ground with a special building for the Sergeants’ mess on the far side. On one side of the parade ground was a sports ground with a running track and a large outdoor swimming pool.

The British army employed a large number of civilians as drivers, cleaners and assistants in the cookhouse and general maintenance personnel. On the day I arrived there were a number of men on their hands and knees cleaning the moss from the joins in the cobble stones!

The VD wing was in a separate building to the rest of the hospital. The accommodation block for RAMC army personnel was situated in between the VD wing and the general hospital. On the ground floor of the VD wing was a hospital laboratory with separate staff. The VD section was on the second floor and consisted of a ward with about 16 beds, a consulting room and an office for the army captain who was the army’s Venereal Disease specialist and a general office with a small laboratory complete with sterilising facilities. The balcony opened from the consulting room and overlooked the swimming pool.

The procedure was much the same as in a civilian hospital. Each morning any patients who had been hospitalised overnight were seen by the MO first thing. Then those soldiers who had been referred by the unit’s MO were seen and, if necessary, samples of blood and any discharges were taken and examined. Wednesday was usually the busiest as the effects of the weekend dalliances took effect. A soldier with gonorrhoea was often preceded by a very specific stench as the evil green discharge from the penis saturated under clothing. Syphilis symptoms were usually no more than a sore and it is highly probable many cases went untreated until much later in life.

Part of the work of the orderlies was to take the samples, prepare the slides with the appropriate stains, and then examine them under a microscope The MO would then look to confirm the diagnosis. The two main diseases we saw were gonorrhoea and syphilis. These diseases were considered by the army to be self-inflicted wounds so any personnel infected would lose some privileges whilst absent from their unit, such as pay or rank.

When I first arrived the senior orderly was a sergeant but after a couple of months he was transferred. It was then that I was promoted to a corporal in charge of the general operation of the unit. It was also about this time that the war in Korea broke out with a large number of troops in Austria being sent to Korea. Conscripts with less than a year to serve were not sent but all conscripts had their duration of service extended by six months.

At some stage our English money was converted into Army money. I do not recall the coinage but the notes were still of the same value but could not be used anywhere except at Army establishments. Each pay day we could specify how much we would like in the local currency (Austrian schillings). Their coins were silvery and very light weight unlike the English ones and gave the feeling of having no substance. The exchange rate was quite good and as far as food was concerned we well off.

It was a very pleasant place to be stationed, there wasn’t much soldiering just a couple of parades a week or on special occasions. There was plenty of sport with many competitions; the main game played being rugby union. Because the unit was a hospital there were many more officers than in a normal unit with each doctor being an officer. On completing their studies many had been called up for military service and as most had played rugby at university the hospital had quite a good team. I filled in on a number of occasions and enjoyed the game.

When not on duty we were allowed to leave the camp provided we signed out and were back at a specified time. When leaving the camp we were allowed to wear civilian clothes, which most of us opted to do? Our clothes were so different to that worn by the local population that we might as well have been wearing uniforms, but I felt, as I’m sure all other soldiers do in a foreign land, a little more free in civilian clothes.

The local 'bus stopped just outside the hospital entrance for the short journey to the town of Klagenfurt. The 'bus was single-decked and most times towed a trailer. Passengers had a choice of travelling in the bus proper or the trailer. The configuration of the seating was entirely different to any English buses I had travelled on. The seats were of slatted wood and installed around the circumference of the 'bus or trailer with a gap to allow passenger to get on or off. The centre area between the seats would take as many people as could be crammed in. The 'bus had travelled from Maria Saal and beyond and had passed through many villages by the time it reached the camp so on most occasion all the seats were taken and it was necessary to stand and hold on to straps hanging from the roof. .

I recall the first trip I made. I decided I would travel in the trailer. The month was May and the temperature fairly warm, although the bus had windows none were open. The bus was packed with passengers carrying baskets of chickens and bags of produce which were placed at the feet of their owners. The soil around Klagenfurt is short of iodine and a large number of people had large swellings on their necks, an affliction known as goitres, caused by a lack of iodine in their diet. Garlic is known have a reasonable quantity of iodine. I was not aware of the reason at that stage but most of the people on the bus were chewing raw garlic. With the heat, the chickens and the air laden with garlic fumes, I was very pleased when the 'bus arrived in the town

Klagenfurt was a reasonably large town and had a good public transport system with trams and trolley buses operating out to the Worthersee Lake with 'bus services to the suburbs and nearby towns. The main shops were built round a square and in the square was a statue of a dragon with its tail broken off and lying on the ground. The tale which we were told was that dragon’s tail was complete ‘til the British arrived and the dragon was so shocked on meeting a virgin soldier that he so shook with laughter that his tail fell off

The story of the dragon is very interesting; it was carved out of one piece of rock in 1590. The town of Klagenfurt was built on a drained swamp and citizens would occasionally be drowned crossing the river and legend had it that they were pulled in by the water dragon (Lindwerm) that lived in the swamp. To reinforce the legend the scull of a woolly rhinoceros was found in a gravel pit in 1335. The town’s emblems and flag all portray the dragon.

The sewage system of the town was poor. The sewage ran alongside the footpath in a wooden channel that was just below the surface of the road with many vents from which the putrid gases emerged. To overcome this problem shopkeeper sprayed the pavement outside their shops with perfume. There were a number of cafés where it was possible to buy coffee. Coffee was served thick and black and always with a glass of cold water. I never drank the water for often it was possible to see small creatures swimming in it.

The NAAFI operated a shop and restaurant and the army operated a cinema in the same building showing up-to-date films. While I was at the hospital this cinema was the only one in town to have tiered seating, the local ones were in converted halls with benches for seating.

The town had an opera house where shows called operettas were performed. I attended a number in spite of my poor knowledge of German. The opera house was everything I had expected it to be and I had seen nothing like it before. It had tiered seating and on two sides including each side of the stage were boxes with draped curtains. For a town the size of Klagenfurt it was a most impressive building.

From time to time a number of us took the tram to the Worthersee and went swimming. Here again it was so different from U.K. In places along the lake edge cabins had been built with platforms jutting out over the lake. On the platforms many people young and old sunbathed. I was used to seeing young people sunbathing but here were people who were using walking sticks and, in some cases were more wrinkled than prunes, lying in the sun with the minimum of clothing. Their skin looking like old, golden parchment.

The army had arrangements between the various units so that each unit was advised of any vehicles going for day trips so that off duty personnel could go along. Because of these I was able to visit many of the pre-war holiday areas these mostly were other lakes although on one occasion I visited the Kanzelbahn just outside of Villach. Here a chair lift operated all year but its main function was to take skiers up the mountain in winter. When I went it was midsummer, the weather was clear and the view from the top was breathtaking. There was still a fair amount of snow about and on the edge of the melting snow spring bulbs were flowering while down in the valley stands of maize were at their highest. Another of the trips was to a lake called the Faakersee. The day I was there it was incredibly calm. There were many locals playing volley ball, a popular game on the beach areas.

On the shores of one of the lakes, I think it was the Osiacasee, the army had taken over a hotel and if one had a few days leave it was possible to stay there. I had a great time there. For a small fee it was possible to take part in many water activities. From memory most of the day was spent trying to stand up on a flat board being towed by a motor boat.

Part of the British army area of control had been occupied by the Russian army but under the occupation agreement had been relinquished to the British. When the Russians withdrew they left behind a large number of horses many of which were given to local farmers, but some were kept and stabled for use by army personnel. On a couple of occasion a group of us hired horses. The animals were very docile and all we had to do was sitting and steer. We were able to wander the walking tracks used by the locals. These tracks mostly went to and from churches and near each church were the equivalent of the local public house, and we would often stop at one of these for a meal and a drink. Riding a horse through fields of maize that was very high brought to mind the words from the musical, “Corn as high as an elephant’s eye”.

During my stay in Austria the war in Korea broke out and my term of conscripted military service was extended from 18 months to two years with the proviso that I wouldn’t be demobbed until a replacement was found. When we heard the news about the war there was considerable anxiety as our hospital was only a few miles from the Russian lines. For a time local leave was cancelled and much time was spent on manoeuvres basically practicing how to withdraw. Once out of the camp I had no idea whether it was practice or for real, for we had no communication other than official releases so it was always a relief to get back to the hospital. If we were not included in those out practicing being a field hospital the rumour had it that the group left behind would surrender. There was much talk of salt mines as it was rumoured that was where Russians sent their prisoners. Luckily after a while things returned to normal.

During my 25 months national service I was allowed three weeks leave in England and two weeks local leave whilst in Austria. The first week’s leave was embarkation leave prior to departing to the Continent. The next leave was Christmas leave 1950, the previous Christmas I had been on duty at the Military hospital in Chester. I am not sure how many days I spent at home or whether the leave was inclusive of travelling, I tend to think it was.

In Klagenfurt winter arrives in early October and the ground is covered with snow until early April. The snow does not seem to affect the transport system with buses and trains running on time. The journey on the troop train to the Hook of Holland through the mountains of Austria and Germany provided spectacular views. The meal halts in countryside covered with snow and ice beneath towering mountains disappearing in to clouds felt a million miles away from an English countryside in winter. The food at these meal halts was in many cases pure German and very acceptable.

I don’t remember much of my visit home; it is the return journey that stands out. To report back to the hospital before the expiry of my leave pass I had to report to the transport section of the military in early January. The night we sailed for the Hook of Holland a very cold wind was blowing from the north- east bringing cold air from the Russian Arctic. We boarded the ship wearing greatcoats and were pleased to go below out of the bitter wind. Next morning after the ship had docked we were all issued with ear muffs to wear and were warned about frostbite. We marched off the docks and onto the railway platform where the train was waiting. The train had been parked there for the duration of the Christmas holidays and was partially snowed in and was in the process of being dug out.

As we entered the platform we passed through the waiting room where we were allocated our carriage number and collected a large mug of tea plus a saucer. I then walked down the platform looking for the carriage number. It did not take more than a few minutes but by the time I stepped into the carriage there were ice crystals forming on the saucer where I had spilled some tea. I can truly say I have never been so cold. The bones in my arms and legs felt totally exposed and seemed to shiver on their own. The carriages were still very cold with the windows inside and out covered with frost. There was not much we could do to get warm and so we waited. With the train dug out of the snow the railway personnel managed to get some heat to the carriages and eventually the train started the journey eastwards. As we travelled through the Dutch countryside many of the locals seemed to be enjoying themselves with large numbers skating on the frozen dykes, others on sleds being pulled by horses and other sleds with children being towed by dogs. It looked like fairyland under the thick blanket of snow.

Once the train got underway the layer of snow did not seem to hinder its progress. At each meal halt we slipped and slithered to the refreshment building for in many places the snow had become packed so it was like walking on ice. When we arrived at Villach the transit camp had a fine layer of snow over it but the mountains surrounding were like enormous icebergs towering skywards with only occasional glimpses of the underlying rocks.

By the time I returned from leave in January, the Military Hospital at Klagenfurt had more than just a covering of snow and in many places it was several feet thick. Because of the hard frost it was possible to walk on the snow without sinking in. Klagenfurt lies in a valley surrounded by mountains and often it snowed out of a clear blue sky this being caused by the wind blowing the snow off the mountain tops.

If we wished we could take lessons in skiing. I tried but was hopeless. On one occasion we visited a ski slope frequented by locals and nothing was as demoralising as trying to keep upright and being passed by children on skis that looked as if they had only just learned to walk.

When the thaw came in April it became obvious why the buildings had sloping roofs they allowed melting snow to cascade down in great sheets. When walking through the town during the thaw there would intermittent sounds like falling rocks as the ice and snow crashed to the ground.

For my next leave I was able to obtain was what was called local leave and one of the places I was able to visit was Vienna. One of the confusing things in a foreign country is that places when spoken sound the same but are spelt differently. Vienna is one of them, in German is spelt Wien. Getting to Vienna meant taking the overnight troop train from Klagenfurt. When travelling on leave it was possible to use the free army transport or pay and use the local transport system.

To get to the station I used the local bus, that was easy but once at the station finding the train was a different matter. I expected the train to be in the main station with Vienna as its destination showing on the notice board. After becoming completely confused I found the correct train in a separate area of the marshalling yards and labelled Wien. For the journey to Vienna all military personnel had to wear uniform although once in Vienna the wearing of civilian clothes was allowed.

The train journey to Vienna passed through the Russian sector of Austria and apparently there was an agreement that each army would have no more than a specified number of troops in the city of Vienna. The Russians took it upon themselves to ensure the other powers kept their number of troops within the specified limits, so half way through the night the train was stopped and was boarded by Russian soldiers. Now this was when British soldiers were in Korea fighting the North Koreans and the Chinese volunteers and nobody was sure whether the Russians would join in or not. We were told to expect the Russians to stop the train and check the documentation of everyone. There was of course much leg pulling when the train stopped and the Russians boarded. For some reason it was assumed that any prisoners taken by the Russians would end up working in salt mines.

The Russians who came on board were scruffily dressed. Their uniforms were like khaki overalls with no creases and were too big for them. They wore round hats with a red star in the front. Some carried firearms similar to a Tommy gun. The Russian officer walked the length of the carriage and inspected the transport papers of every one. The Russian was followed by a British officer who was followed by a couple of Russian soldiers.

In the morning the train arrived in Vienna. I got a lift from the station with other personnel going to the British Military Hospital. One of the benefits of taking local leave was that much of one’s travel and accommodation could be had at the military’s expense so while in Vienna I stayed at the Military hospital all I had to do was show my leave pass and for the duration of my stay I became part of that establishment.

I thought Vienna was an exciting and interesting place and although I was only there a week I managed to cram in a lot. Public transport was mostly by tram, the length of the tram varied from one carriage to three and although the city was divided into the various zones the trams and buses travelled through all of them without restriction, it was only people who were restricted. The British military were allowed to wear civilian clothes when off duty so the majority of time I was there I wore civvies. The major problem was that any service personnel who intentionally or unintentionally ventured into the Russian zone would be arrested. It was possible to travel in the American or French zones unhindered but step over the line into the Russian sector or Russian zone and one would be detained for at least 48 hours. The problem was then that one would be classed as absent without leave and charged under British Military Law.

I mention this in detail because there were no way of knowing when one was entering or leaving any particular zone so there was a great need to have a good map. When travelling on a tram it was vitally important to be on the correct tram and know when to get off. The problem staying at the Military hospital was that it was in the international zone and when travelling from the city centre it was the last tram stop before crossing into the Russian zone and any troops returning from a night on the town that missed the stop were kept a number of days in Russian custody.

The four powers controlled the International Zone in turn and a ceremony was held at the end of each month at change over time. The patrol was always in an American jeep and I guess because the Americans owned it their soldier always drove the vehicle. There was one member of each force manning the jeep and whichever power was in charge, their soldier sat in the front of the vehicle with the American... The American wore normal American army uniform with a gun holster on a belt round his waist and chrome plated crash helmet. The Russian wore a uniform-like fawn boiler suit with a fur-fringed peaked cap with a large red star in the front. Around his neck were belts of bullets with a Tommy gun over his left shoulder. The Frenchman wore a normal French uniform with a cap similar to that worn by the French foreign legion and carried a rifle complete with a long bayonet. The British wore a normal army uniform with white painted webbing and gun holster and the standard peaked hat of the Military police with its red top. The rumour was that at every incident they attended, it was the British soldier who got out of the jeep as he was the only one whose gun holster was empty and only for show and nobody wanted an international incident

Vienna was fascinating place. I had travelled through central London and Liverpool and of course spent considerable time in Chester, but nothing compared with the buildings, the magnificent statues, and the cafés of Vienna. The streets were clean; the public were neatly and well dressed. The Austrian police in their green uniforms seemed to merge into the general background, each police officer displaying a badge showing the languages he spoke. The shops had enticing displays of food, clothing and jewellery. This city that had been at the centre of international conflict made the towns and cities of England appear drab. I had been taught that the best of everything was British and British made. I came to the conclusion that that was a myth.

I was able to look inside Saint Stevens Cathedral even though the roof was under repair and the area open to the public was restricted. I saw an operetta at the opera house I cannot recall any details other than the opulence of the interior of the building. Vienna is a city of magnificent statues and I am confident that it would be possible to spend at least a day just visiting the best of them.

I visited the main shopping street "Mariahifer Strasse", this street is wide and on the day I visited it although it was warm snow was still piled high between the road and the pavement with gaps for pedestrians to cross the road. The snow had been heaped during the winter months and in places was so high it was impossible to see across the road.

In company with some other soldiers I visited the Vienna woods. The part I saw was a sloping area with a restaurant at the top overlooking the River Danube known as Kahlenberg. As it was springtime there were many floral displays of spring bulbs. The restaurant had one side made of glass so every patron had a view over the river Danube. We all had a meal and I recall trying to order in German, the waiter waited a while and then replied in near perfect English. I was trying to say eggs, bacon and chips and I was told it was ham, eggs and potatoes. It is worth noting that potatoes were not supplied as chips but firstly are boiled and then sliced and fried. A definite improvement on chips. The River Danube was certainly not blue but a muddy brown. A bridge over the Danube had been repaired and a sign informed everyone that it was a Red Army bridge.

Another suburb I visited with some colleagues was the village of Grinzing I did not know at the time but I now understand that it is famous for its wines. The thing I remember in particular was that we all went to a farm house eatery it wasn’t a restaurant as such but what appeared as the front room of the farm house. With the meal jugs of white cloudy wine were provided and a number of the party needed help to return to the hospital.

When I first arrived at the hospital in Vienna I was asked if I had played rugby at Klangenfurt as they were a player short in a game to be played against a French army team during the week I was in Vienna. I needed a little persuasion, but I agreed to play. On the day I was asked to play all the teams changed into playing gear at the hospital and with top coats over the gear we boarded an army lorry to take us to the playing field. The playing field was at Schwecthat airfield in another part of the British sector. The Russian zone bisected the British zone so it was necessary to leave one section of the British zone and enter the international zone. From the international zone we could enter the other part of the British sector. In doing so we travelled along a road that served both Russian and British occupation armies. Upon entering this particular road we were joined by two Russian army vehicles one in front and one behind no doubt to ensure we didn’t stray. This performance was repeated on our return journey.

The ground was nothing unusual just some mown grass with rugby goal posts at each end but not far away was a bulldozed pile of aircraft that had been cleared from the runway. They were overgrown with weeds having been in that state since the end of hostilities in 1945. I am not sure about the score in the match but what I do recall is that after half time it started snowing with very large flakes and it wasn’t long before all boundary lines had disappeared under a universal white blanket and the teams when packing down disappeared in steam of fog. I don’t recall being cold but remember the ground being very slippery and when I was tackled I slid along piling snow up in front of me. I was only in Vienna a week and I always wanted to return

When I returned to Klagenfurt the British army were beginning to take the situation in Korea seriously and together with many others I spent time pretending we were retreating from the Russians and treating wounded in battle. This meant camping in some the most delightful holiday spots on the banks of various lakes in particular the Wothersee and the Faakersee. Because we were camping near lakes at night we were surrounded by fire flies. The strange thing about fire flies is that because the fluorescent reflective part of their body is at the rear you never see them approaching only going away. It was a most uncanny experience to stand in the dark and see thousand of lights moving away from me.

TRIESTE

I still had another week’s local leave and the venerologist in charge of the VD wing made arrangements for me, along with a couple of the technicians from the hospital laboratory, to visit the British Military Hospital in Trieste.

We were taken in an army 'bus to Villach along with personnel who were catching the train to the Hook of Holland and we spent the night in the transit camp. The army ran a bus service from Villach to Trieste for personnel who were stationed in Trieste and those going south to Egypt, Cyprus or Palestine. I not sure all troops travelled this way but a percentage did. It was a very pleasant journey travelling over the Alps down the main road to Udine.

Once over the Italian border much changed. Not far from the border we passed members of the mountain divisions of the Italian army on manoeuvres we were told they were the carrabinarie an elite fighting force. They looked like Robin Hood’s men with their hats adorned with coloured feathers. On the road were many Vespa motorcycles, in many cases young women were riding as pillion passengers and sat side saddle, this caused them to show plenty of leg, much to the delight of the troops on the bus.

When we reached Udine we were held up in traffic at a road junction. At the road junction a police officer was on point duty and at the time we arrived there was a dispute between the officer and a truck driver. Both had taken their jackets off and were fighting in the centre of the road. As the traffic backed up other motorist began blowing their horns. It wasn’t long before the sound was deafening. The sound must have been too much as it wasn’t long before they stopped put on their respective jackets and traffic started to flow as if nothing had happened.

Not long after leaving Udine we could see the blue Mediterranean Sea and the white cliffs that surround Trieste. The British supplied some police officers to Trieste as the powers had not decided whether it was part of Italy or Yugoslavia so all the local police wore British police uniforms. The city was administered by a joint American-British commission who controlled the area. On arriving in Trieste I was able to change some Army money into Italian currency the lira. I had never had so much money in numbers as there was 1980 lira to the pound and most of it paper money that was crumpled and stained. I think the smallest note was 5 lira then to top it all one lira was broken into centimes small aluminium like coins extremely small and feather weight. One needed a pocket full of notes, as I recall a cup of coffee was 250 lira.

The week I spent in Trieste was spoilt because on the first day I spent most of the day swimming in the warm sea and sitting on the rocks. I became very sunburnt and it was just as well I was on leave as sunburn is regarded by the army as a self inflicted wound. The next couple of days I spent with my back covered in a thick layer of Novae cream as I was unable to bear the touch of clothing.

On the fourth day I ventured out and saw a wonderful city with the population able to access the waterfront and wharves. On the wharves were small boys with fishing lines with triangular hooks on the end. The boys would throw the line in deep water and trawl. They were trawling for octopus and when one was hauled ashore the boys immediately turned the fish inside out. Some of the wharf area was occupied by fishermen sitting cross-legged mending fishing nets.

Trieste has many fine building and parks. There always seemed to be some religious festival taking place with processions through the streets. The local police were all dressed in English police uniforms complete with the Bobbies helmet but they just didn’t look right in this most un-British city

British forces had access to the American P.B.X stores and cinemas, so one evening I attended a film. I do not recall the film but remember the ice cream and pop corn. The Americans were much better paid than the British but the American were paid monthly and the British weekly so it was said you could tell the time of the month by which army had girls on its arm.

In line with armies everywhere, local features were given nicknames according to their significance and the Military Hospital where I stayed was no exception with one of the central parks being called Gonorrhoea Park. The other park was out of bounds because it was near the Yugoslav Border and the Yugoslav troops frequently used items in the park for target practice. This park was called Tito sports arena.

There were some wonderful markets in the city and they seemed well organised with the similar types of merchandise in one area. I bought what I thought was a beautiful table cloth it was of woven material with several Mediterranean scenes woven in the pattern. My parents used it for many years to cover the grooved kitchen table. I bought a pair of pale grey trousers and I think I still had them when I arrived in N.Z. They were too thin to wear in U.K.

I wrote home describing the gardens in the city as at the time of my visit the roses were in full bloom and there were masses of them.

The week soon passed and I returned to Klagenfurt, There are a couple of things worth mentioning that although normal for the Klagenfurt area were quite spectacular. In the summer months most days would start off fine and at about midday a thunderstorm would form with much thunder and lighting and heavy rain showers and as the afternoon progressed the sky cleared and it would be fine again. Towards the end of summer there were swarms of flying beetles about the size of a bumble bee and light brown in colour. At night they were attracted to the street lights and in the morning the pavements were coated with a layer of dead beetles

One afternoon an injured civilian whose appearance was hidden from view, was brought into the VD wing and the end of the ward was screened off. Most injured people were taken to the emergency ward and then into a general ward. He apparently had gunshot wounds. In the hours of darkness that night he was taken to a nearby air force landing strip and flown out. Rumour had it that he was an agent shot while crossing from Yugoslavia.

The second incident involved the Duchess Mountbatten. The hospital had been advised to expect a visit from the Duchess in her role as the head of the British Red Cross. In true army style everything that could not be hidden away was painted, whitewashed or polished. The captain in charge of the VD wing was of the view that we were the last place she would want to see. The Captain was an Irish man who had spent most of his army service in the Indian Army and was not overly concerned at a visit from a member of the British Aristocracy.

On the morning of the scheduled visit the normal cleaning had taken place and I and the other orderlies had clean white coats. The captain was sitting at his desk reading and the rest of us looking out the window at the woman in uniform surrounded by an amazingly large contingent of top brass. They had to pass the entrance to the stairs leading to the wing to get to the rest of the hospital as it was on the other side of the road. Instead of going past they turned and started climbing the stairs. There was much scrambling as the captain made for the head of the stairs. The Duchess spoke to every patient in the ward asking very personnel questions such as was this the first time they had been infected. On the wall at the top of the stairs was a large poster which had been designed by one of the patients who had had his demob put back because he had caught one of the VD diseases and was classified infectious whilst a patient. It amused the captain so much that it was hung on the wall at the top of the stairs. The poster depicted a large penis in colour with a green discharge from its end with the word “Blobby knobs stop demob“

When the duchess had seen all the patients and the rest of us were lined at the top of the stairs she turned me and said “Corporal, Please explain this poster” pointing to the poster on the wall. Needless to say I was dumbstruck and started stammering. The Captain stepped in and explained its meaning in florid detail. The result of the visit was that the VD Wing received new bedside tables and lockers the rest of the hospital had to make do with their old painted ones

On the 20^th July 1951 I left the military hospital at Klagenfurt to begin the journey back to U.K. and demob. An officer at the hospital was required to write a reference on my discharge papers and in my case this was done by the venerologist at the hospital. He had a great sense of humour mostly at someone else’s expense. On one occasion he bet his fellow officers that he could drive a golf ball further than they could. The story went as follows: his competitors teed up in the sports field and each hit a golf ball and the distance was measured. He then moved to a nearby frozen lake and teed off at the edge. I mention this as he wrote my reference, and I quote

“A SMART, INTELLIGENT, HONEST, SOBER AND MOST CONSCIENTIOUS N.C.O. HE HAS GIVEN EVERY SATISFACTION IN THE V.D DEPARTMENT"

Conscripts due for demob were returned to the original training camp and spent the last days in the army in the company of those who were called up at the same time. There was much to tell for two years had passed. Unfortunately not all of us returned and out of the original thirty in our barrack room were two missing, one killed in a vehicle accident and the other killed by rioters in Singapore.

We were issued with our demob suits, mine was blue with a fine white stripe, and after a final medical we were sent to various reserve field hospitals for final demob. We were all now reservists who could be called back to active service in an emergency and were required to attend camp for a period of two weeks for each the next four years. I still have my reservist’s instruction book advising me to report to Woking in the advent of mobilization and the instructions to the railways or steamship companies to transport me third class and to the postmaster to advance five shillings advance pay.

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RETURN TO CIVILIAN LIFE

The company that employed me before my call-up was required to re-employ me. I duly returned to Standard and Telephones as instructed but immediately felt like a fish out of water. Of course I had changed and personnel in the laboratory had changed and to top it all the rate of pay I was to receive was the same as when I left which was less that my army pay. I’m sure it was a crafty method of ensuring that I and other returnees soon left. The Company’s sales were below expectation and a number of workers had been made redundant.

Together with another returnee at the factory I applied for many jobs that were advertised in the newspapers and one of those was to join the London Metropolitan Police. I was granted an interview and sent a warrant to travel to the interview. The first interview was in fact a medical including a chest x-ray. After about a week I was told I had passed the medical and I then had to attend a full day to take both a written exam and a personal interview. About a 100 arrived to sit the written exam etc., and in the end I was one of 13 accepted so I felt very privileged.

It had quite a shock returning home after two years and it was not possible to accept the situation that existed before being conscripted, in particular my father’s rules regarding living at home. My sister who was now over 30 still had been in by 10 p.m. I was very happy to join the police force with comparatively good pay and accommodation

On Friday 17^th September 1951 I journeyed to Hendon police training college. The pay was well over double what I was receiving at Standard and Telephones plus while in the college everything was found. My pay at Standard and Telephones was just over three pounds a week. Police pay was four hundred pounds a year and by the time I left the training school I had never been so rich. The clothing was of excellent quality and with a large allowance of each item. For example we were issued with 9 shirts and eighteen collars. The only item we had to buy was our own footwear and for this we received an allowance.

The conditions at the Training College were excellent; each recruit had a separate room with bed, dressing table, desk, chair and wardrobe. The room was serviced daily. There were a number of classrooms, a swimming pool, a gym, and a court room.

Trainees were required to report on the Friday afternoon and we were all given a large black book with details of police rules and various laws and methods of operation. The front pages contained a quote from Sir Robert Peel’s Speech to Parliament setting up the original London Metropolitan police force in 1839. We were required to learn that speech word perfect by Monday morning when we had to write it down. I recall all the trainees walking up and down muttering to themselves and then testing each other. On Monday all 13 were able to quote the whole speech. After 57 years I can still recall the opening lines.

‘THE PRIMARY OBJECT OF AN EFFICIENT POLICE IS THE PREVENTION OF CRIME’

In 1839 memories were still fresh from the French revolution and the last thing the British want was a military dictatorship or being taken over by a mob. This was the prime reason that the British police was an unarmed force whose main job was to keep the peace. In 1951 there was only one police officer for every 950 people and less than a third was on duty at any one time.

I probably learned more in the three months at the college than at any previous time in my life. Besides policing and the rules of the police force, there were sessions on music, the arts, first aid, swimming, judo, self defence and above all, how to act to get other people to help. I received a St John’s certificate in first aid and a bronze medallion for life saving. In the music sessions we had lectures on how music is written and why, and the relevance of the tempo. It was explained why art was more in the eyes of the beholder as in many cases it was the craft of the artist rather than the subject. At meal times we each had a specified seat with napkins and napkin holders with the correct display of cutlery and we were all lectured on the correct use of cutlery and normal protocol. Waitresses waited at table and nobody was allowed to leave the table until all had finished. One of the instructors was seated with us at most meals. The idea was that on leaving we wouldn’t feel out place in any situation.

We practiced what our reaction should be in certain circumstances. One of the basics I recall was never run towards a situation just walk normally, doing so gives you time to think of the best course of action If you run you set your heart pounding and up go the stress levels. At an incident scene there are usually people who wish to help and it had been found that the best solution was to give them a job i.e. to control traffic, telephone for the ambulance. Normal police work is assisting people who have problems. Parliament sets the rules and when not followed this was the major cause of problems. Good policing solves problems.

There was a building set up as a magistrates’ court where we went through the court procedures. There were cars that were used to simulate accidents. Some of the specified words for use at an incident seemed quite ridiculous but as I found out they seemed to stop people all talking at once and gave one a chance to take control. One I remember was “What has happened here please?” A police officer asking what had happened usually stunned people into silence especially when mostly it was obvious what had happened

In Mid December 1951 we had our final interviews and examinations and twelve of the 13 in the class passed and we were posted out to Divisions. I was posted to ‘A’ division in central London and to the specific station of Cannon Row. Cannon Row is the police station attached to police head quarters ‘Scotland Yard’ and is situated between Downing Street and the Houses of Parliament.

Single police in central London were housed in single sex hotel like accommodation called section houses. When I arrived there was some decorating going on at the section house in Ambrosden Avenue so for the first two weeks I was billeted over the police station in Rochester Row. In the mid 1930’s an ex Air Force commander chief Lord Trenchard was appointed as Commissioner of the Metropolis and he instigated a plan to upgrade police living conditions. Prior to the building of section houses police were housed in the upper stories of police stations in rather primitive conditions and I was glad my stay in Rochester Row was short lived. The sleeping quarters at Rochester Row police station consisted of stable like rooms with walls with a large gap at the top and bottom. There was space for a bed and a small wardrobe and any noise or aroma was common to all.

The section house in Ambrosden Avenue was about 10 stories high with the better rooms at the top due the extra amount of light the rooms received My room was halfway up but on an inside wall so it didn’t get much daylight . Each room had a bed, a dressing table, chest of drawers and a wardrobe. There was a communal set of ablutions on each floor. The rooms were serviced weekly and the ladies who did the cleaning would iron shirts etc for a fee. On the ground floor was a canteen that served some sort of food for about 18 hours a day. In the dining area of the canteen each resident had a locker where most stored things like cornflakes and only purchased the milk and hot cooked food from the canteen.

Once out in the division we had to purchase our meals, although accommodation was free. We didn’t always eat at the canteen and would have eaten less often but unfortunately restaurants in Central London were very expensive, although at times we ate at some of the pubs when specials were on offer.

The section house was tightly controlled with a sergeant in charge who was single and lived in the section house. Visitors had to be signed in and were only allowed into the canteen and lounge room. Anyone who had a visitor in other areas was subject to instant dismissal. The lounge was very large with a television set, many easy chairs, snooker tables etc. In another section house nearby, there was a large gymnasium where dances were held. There was no bar in either section house and the canteen did not sell alcohol. There was a pay phone next to the sergeant’s office.

CANNON ROW

I well remember my first morning at Cannon Row. I had to report at 8 a.m. - all police reporting times meant 15 minutes before hand so that briefings could be received on items that needed action that day. This meant that an eight hour shift was never shorter than eight and a half hours. The first day was occupied by being shown around the station. I was allocated my police number 521A and plates bearing this number had to be screwed in the shoulders of all coats and jackets.

Cannon Row is quite large with administrative offices on the ground floor there was also a large communications room where banks of telephones were installed which were manned by two officers. Situated on the streets of London were many stand-alone blue police boxes that contained nothing but a telephone, these were linked directly to the nearest station. The communication room also had direct lines from other stations the local Royal palaces and The Houses of Parliament plus a very noisy tele-printer that was constantly clacking as messages came in. On the first floor was a large canteen that was also used by head office personnel from Scotland Yard.

There were a couple of interview rooms and a number of cells for holding prisoners. Although these cells were cleaned out every day the smell was stomach churning. The cells were occupied by drunks from the time of their arrest until court appearance next day and the floors were often covered with urine and vomit and over the years the smell had seeped into every crevice.

Before being allowed out on the streets I had to attend the Bow Street Magistrates’ Court for two weeks to observe proceedings. I had to be at the Court by 10 a.m. The Court is about 40 minutes walk but being new I was sent on my way at about 9 a.m. together with another new officer. I had never been out on the street in uniform and it was quite scary leaving the sanctuary of the station and venturing out onto unfamiliar London streets which were teeming with pedestrians. We walked up Derby Gate which is a small lane which joins Whitehall and then we turned right towards Trafalgar Square. The first shock I had was that in the first few yards I seemed to bump into somebody and then I realised that everybody moves out of the way of a police uniform. We walked along Whitehall, passed the Horse Guards with the guardsmen sitting erect on their horses. As it was wintertime their dress was drab grey compared with the sparkle of their summer uniform with their breast plates which are polished to perfection. As we neared Trafalgar Square the tourists began to stop us asking for information such as which buses to take to various events or what time events took place, or how to get to such sights as the Changing of the Guard at Buckingham Palace. Luckily we had been issued with booklets containing such information for without them we had no more idea than the tourists. It was both exciting and stressful and we were relieved to arrive at the Court. After the first day the journey to and from the court became a normal routine. Watching proceedings at the Court was an eye opener for although we had been lectured on the procedure to see it in action is something once seen never forgotten.

The magistrate at Bow Street was a stipendiary one and had held the position for a number of years. He sat at a large desk on a raised platform and below him was the clerk of the court who controlled the schedule. On one side was the prosecuting police sergeant and on the opposite side were the desks for Council. In the middle was a slightly raised cage for the prisoners to stand in and it contained a plain wooden bench. At the back of the court was an area set aside for visitors and the press.

The daily routine was always the same. The first cases were prostitutes who had been arrested for soliciting. There were always the same number and there appeared to be some arrangement so as not to clog the court system. There were no prostitutes operating in the Cannon Row Station area, so I can only guess at that. I did know that only members of the vice squad arrested prostitutes for soliciting. Prostitutes were arrested under an Act that Parliament had passed in 1839 which had a maximum fine of twenty shillings and it seemed to me that it was regarded as a licensing fee.

The Magistrate knew most of the prostitutes and would greet them by name as they entered the area set aside for prisoners. The Clerk of the Court would read out the charge, for example. “Mary ……… you are charged with soliciting in (the name of the street) at 9, 30 pm on Monday 8th December 1951, to the annoyance of inhabitants and passers-by. How do you plead? “Guilty or not guilty?” The answer was always the same “Guilty Sir” and the Magistrate would reply “Twenty shillings Mary, thank you. Next please.”

The drunks were next and then the drunk and disorderly. These were tried more formally. It was still an offence to be drunk in a public place and an offender could be arrested. The fine for a first offence was usually ten shillings. The next group were the petty thieves, breaking into cars, pickpockets etc.

During the two weeks I was observing no major cases came to hand, but occasionally very serious cases that had involved special squads from Scotland Yard had their initial hearing at Bow Street Court. Bow Street also took cases from a number of central London police stations and due to the nature of the area few came from Cannon Row as the area covered by Cannon Row was mostly Government offices, St, James Park and Buckingham Palace. There was always a large visible police presence in the area so little actual crime took place.

On my first days policing at Cannon Row after the two weeks at court, I operated with a more senior officer and the first duties were the manning of protection posts. The protection posts were covered 24 hours a day and in a couple of places they almost joined together. There were two in Downing Street, one outside No. 10 and one on the opposite side of the road outside the Foreign Office. There was also an officer just inside the door of No, 10. During the hours of darkness an officer was posted in the gardens of No. 10 Downing Street. There were two protection posts on Horse Guards Parade at the rear of No. 10. A protection post was on the river side of Westminster Abbey where a few months previously the Stone of Scone had been stolen by Scottish nationalists. By the time I came on the scene the stone had been recovered. The stone of Scone is the Scottish coronation stone and was returned to Scotland in 1996. It had been taken by the English as the spoils of war in 1296. It is a large piece of granite weighing 152 Kilos and when I saw it I thought it looked like any other piece of granite. Another protection post was at No 1 Carlton House Terrace the official residence of the foreign secretary.

One incident I recall vividly happened when I was on night patrol with another officer. Towards midnight a middle-aged, well-dressed women approached saying she wanted to get into her flat and found that the key wouldn’t open the door because it had been locked on the inside. She had listened and was sure that somebody was moving around inside. On being questioned she said that her husband was away in the North of England on business.

I was all for breaking open the door but my colleague took out his note book and writing in the slowest manner possible noted the women’s name, place of work and as many other details that he could think up before getting her to sign it giving permission to break in. By this time I was sure any burglar had long vanished. My colleague took out his truncheon and quietly broke a small pane of glass by the lock. As soon as the door was opened the women rushed passed and into a downstairs bedroom there a man who turned out to be her husband was in bed with other women. The women in bed climbed out of bed completely naked slipped on fur coat and a pair of high heel shoes and walked out while the women we had let in beat the hell out of her husband. It was explained to me that it was a set up because the husband and wife wanted witnesses for a divorce.

POLICING BY MYSELF

At last I was out on the streets on my own; my first beat was round the outside of the walls of Buckingham Palace. I was on early shift which meant I had to be at the station at 5.45 a.m. for 6a.m. start. I remember I did a circumference of the palace in the first 20 minutes and I still had 7 hours and 40 minutes to go. I soon found out that on the whole it was a very boring job so to make it as interesting as possible we all talked to as many people as possible. Officially there was only one break of 45 minutes during a shift but it was generally accepted that a beat officer would relieve a protection post for a cup of tea both before and after the official break. A duty sergeant would patrol the street and check that there were no problems. A carry over from the time when Lord Trenchard was Commissioner, police sergeants were called “skippers” and on meeting the sergeant the greeting, if there were no problems was “All correct Skipper”.

A new recruit who arrived at the Cannon Row station about a month later than I had a shock initiation to life on the street. On his first day he was on patrol on his own he was called to Trafalgar Square underground station and was confronted with a male who had committed suicide by throwing himself under the train. The recruit did not complete the shift but resigned there and then.

The other major function of the police at Cannon Row was traffic control, the reason for this was that when the House of Commons was in session and the division bells sounded requesting Members of Parliament to vote, they had a limited number of minutes to present themselves in the voting chambers, so there were points men on duty at all road junctions outside the Houses of Parliament. Their function was to ensure that the Members travelling to the House were not impeded. The main traffic points were at the junction of Westminster Bridge and the Embankment, Whitehall and Parliament Square, and Whitehall and Horse Guards Avenue.

Many times there were insufficient officers to fill all posts so the officers on beat patrol filled in at other functions such as crowd control at the Changing of the Guard at Buckingham Palace and at Horse Guards. The usual procedure was to attend Horse Guards about 20 minutes before the change-over. As soon as that change-over was completed we walked through St James’ Park to Buckingham Palace for that ceremony. At both places the action was the same, move the crowd behind the white lines and brings all the children to the front with their parents behind them. This method prevented the crowd being pushed forward as the parents protected their children. In 1952/55 period there were fewer tourists and the guards at the palace were outside the railings and the guards marched directly in front of the crowd.

The relieving troop of horse guards complete with mounted band had to travel from their barracks in Knightsbridge to the gates they ceremonially guarded, travelling via Hyde Park corner, Constitution Hill, the Mall, to Horse Guards Parade. The parade was lead by a mounted police officer. The foot soldiers’ barracks are almost opposite Buckingham Palace and at the Changing of the Guard they marched out, preceded by the military band of that particular regiment. Mounted police again led the way. The horses were so used to the procedures that on most occasions kept in step with the music. Most of music used was the same on every day interspersed by popular melodies.

Trafalgar Square was the haunt of illegal street traders plus some legal ones and for most of any 24 hour day it was filled with tourists, pedestrians, and people who lived on the street. An officer was always on duty and on one corner of the square was the smallest police station in London. It was designed for one person and had one fixed seat and a telephone connected directly to Cannon Row. When the weather was very inclement it was possible for two to squeeze in. Nowhere else, other than the officer on duty in number 10 Downing Street, was it possible for an officer to take shelter from bad weather.

Over a twenty four hour period in Trafalgar Square it was possible to see almost every side to humanity. In the morning at about 5.am to 6 a.m. the newspaper sellers began setting up their sites. The cleaners started arriving to clean the government offices, these were mostly middle-aged to old women, poorly dressed, stooped and well wrapped up against the early morning chill. At the same time the street cleaners with the water-carts began hosing down the Square and surrounding streets. Traffic at this time was sparse and consisted mostly of ' buses and delivery vans.

By 8 a.m. the first of the street traders moved their barrows to their allocated sites and the first office workers appeared and lights started to appear in the office buildings. By half past eight the main stream of office workers was emerging from the underground stations. These were mostly young women all very smart with high-heeled shoes and dressed in the latest fashion.

By nine a.m. the shops had been opened and the streets were solid with traffic and the pavement crowded. The sellers of bird seed had arrived on the Square along with both licensed and unlicensed street photographers. By 10 a.m. the square was mostly filled with tourists many being photographed feeding the pigeons with birds settling on their hands, head or shoulders. On rainy days by 10 a.m. the paving of the Square would be covered with the wet slime of bird droppings. Any look, other than casual, showed all the statues coated with layers of bird faeces giving the appearance of a dusting of snow. Senior office workers complete with briefcases, rolled umbrellas and bowler hats arrived at this time, and at half past ten the very top tier arrived in chauffeur driven cars.

Itinerants who had been sleeping rough in the parks and under the railway bridges would appear and occupy many of the seats, and should a police officer approach they would rise and walk away and thus avoid being questioned. By midday those same seats would be occupied by local office workers eating lunch and often the state of the weather didn’t matter. In the hours 12 noon to 2 pm vehicle traffic round the Square was less intense. In the afternoons the Square was packed with people, many seemed to be there just because it was Trafalgar Square.

Depending on the time of year the starlings would start roosting as dusk approached. They roosted in the plane trees on the side of the Square opposite South Africa House. Until they settled down their chatter drowned out all other noise and their droppings made the pavement a chalky grey, slippery, oozing mess.

At around 6.30 pm the coaches began arriving setting the theatre goers down for their walk to the theatres in Whitehall and Charring Cross Road At 9 pm the last of the office workers could be seen scuttling to the tube station on their way home.

At 10 pm the first drunks would appear and so long as they didn’t cause any problems no action was ever taken. 11. pm the theatre crowds poured into the streets and gradually a sort of quiet descended on the Square. From midnight to about 3 am. There were mostly patrons of night clubs going home. A few walked but mostly they rode by taxi.

Between 3 am and 4.30 am the prostitutes and their minders congregated at the various bus stops as they dispersed to the suburbs. This dispersal of flotsam was referred to as the rats returning to their holes as dawn arrived in the east.

Strange as it may seem many people believed that running away to the city would cure their problems and the place to go was Trafalgar Square, so after midnight anybody seen sitting on a seat in the Square was spoken to. Some were teenagers, others women who had left their husbands in some provincial town and were now out of money. Many of the runaways had some kind of mental illness. In all these cases the police acted as a referral agent to other organisation.

The next place of interest was 10 Downing Street the official home of British prime ministers. At night one officer was stationed in the garden of 10 Downing Street. The garden is about thirty feet square with an eight foot brick wall protecting it from the outside. There was a door in the wall leading onto Horse Guards Parade. The only person to use it was Winston Churchill’s wife Clementine who appeared to avoid all publicity.

A row of double paving stones formed a walkway from the rear entrance almost to the wall. At the rear of the house was a small covered entrance so that it was possible to get out of the rain. Somebody had managed to bring a chair from Saint James’ Park so it was possible to sit down. It was completely dark as the entrance did not have a light.

To get to the garden from Downing Street, the police followed a route which went down a flight of stairs and along a corridor under the house. On the walls of the corridor were the pipes of the central heating etc. We were not permitted to take the direct route through the house. The security system for 10 Downing Street was a piece of black cotton stretched between two points on the top of the wall. Should the cotton be broken the alarm sounded. The usual cause of the alarm sounding was caused by the cat living in Number 10.

At the front in the entrance foyer a police officer was on duty 24 hours a day and to pass the time it was permissible to read. Also on duty in the foyer was a doorman whose sole job was to open and shut the door. Furniture consisted of a coat stand and a couple of large chairs. I recall one chair had sides and a hood so it was like sitting in an alcove. The floor was covered in large black and white marble squares. Other than Mrs Churchill all who entered or left the house had to travel through the foyer. Outside the door another officer was stationed, if it rained and there wasn’t anybody about it was possible for him to stand in the archway that is the entrance to the Foreign Office. In practice most of time was spent walking the few yards of pavement fronting No.10 and No.11

Another officer was stationed at the entrance to the Foreign Office and two more at the rear of No.10. For the two at the rear on Horse Guard Parade there was nowhere to shelter whatever the weather also there were no street lights nearby. On cold winter nights with the only street light some distance away it’s about as bleak and miserable a posting as you can get. In practice both the two at the front and the two at the back joined forces and walked up and down the combined areas. Many of the officers were well educated and there was considerable discussion on every subject imaginable. It is worth noting that neither I nor any of my fellow officers were ever offered a cup of tea or any other type of refreshment while working in or around No. 10

Three of the officers on protection duty carried fire arms and as far as I know none had ever had any firearms training in the police. I believe they were issued in the belief that it made the politicians feels safe. The firearms were 32 bore pistols first issued in 1915 I don’t think they had ever been fired. The bullets issued with them appeared to be the only ones on hand and the same ones were issued every shift. During my nearly 4 years service I cannot recall any one presenting a firearm let alone firing one other than by accident Much of the time was spent talking to tourists and posing for photographs.

The officer on duty at No1 Carlton House Terrace the official residence of the Foreign Secretary, was one of those to carry a fire arm and on one occasion an officer who had been to Korea was showing the door keeper how quickly he could take the pistol apart and put it back together when it discharged putting a bullet through the front door. Fortunately it was Sunday night and they were the only people in the house. By Monday morning a new door had been fitted and the press never got to hear of the mishap

Whilst I was in the force Winston Churchill was prime minister, and although I saw him on numerous occasions we never spoke. One of my colleagues told a tale that while he was on duty in the garden one mild summer night Churchill appeared at the back door and said to him “Officer will you walk with me’ Now the officer concerned was well over six feet tall and Churchill was short and dumpy. They walked together along the paved path in the garden to the wall about 5 yards and back several times and the officer feeling brave said “It’s nice to have such a warm and pleasant night Sir” With that Churchill stopped, stepped on the kerb that lined the paved path and stretched himself to his full height. And looking the officer in the eyes and said “Officer, I said walk not talk”.

Much of the time during my service the Conservative Party had only a small majority in the House of Commons and every time a Division was called every member had to be in the House to prevent the government losing that specific vote. This meant that when a Division was called and the Division bell sounded members had only a specified number of minutes to reach the voting chamber and they had to rush to the House to vote. When the bell sounded in the House one also rang in 10 Downing Street. So during the hours the House was in session Churchill’s car and chauffeur would wait outside No. 10. This meant that the tourists mostly Americans, would congregate on the expectation of seeing Churchill.

Churchill besides being a politician was a great showman and had the method of impressing the waiting public down to a fine art. When he was ready to leave he entered the foyer and would be handed a cigar which, on many occasions, wasn’t even alight. He would stand with his arms stretched out behind and his plain clothes police officer held his coat so that he could slip it on. The signal had gone out to the chauffeur who would drive the car about 10 to 15 paces from the door. The chauffeur would open the back door of the limousine and hold a blanket that was dark blue on one side and the Union Jack on the other. The door of No. 10 would open and any official or Minister would come out and enter the other side of the car. Then Churchill would come out cigar in hand and showing the ‘V’ sign and walk to the car. The tourists by now had their cameras out and there silhouetted against the Union Jack was Churchill. How the crowd loved it, there was always much cheering.

During the time Parliament was in recess those officers who had semi-permanent jobs inside the House were required to do normal duty. To avoid this they all tried to have annual leave during times of recess as many had been off the streets for most of their service and were apprehensive of any incident and avoided as much contact with the public as possible. Many were nearing retirement and were afraid of doing something that might jeopardise their pension.

One particular night I was posted outside No. 10 and a fellow whose normal duty was inside the House of Commons was posted outside the Foreign Office. Normal practice, though unofficial, was that each one would cover for the other so that the other one could go to the station for a cup of tea. All the sergeants and inspectors knew of this arrangement and condoned it. This fellow said that it wasn’t official so he would not go in for break and he wouldn’t cover for me. The usual form was to call their bluff. So I went to the station about 4.am and he disappeared round the other side of the Foreign Office. Two rather drunk young Irish girls threw a milk bottle at the window of No.10 whilst I was away. The officer inside advised the station and the area car were alerted and the girls who had run away were picked in the Mall. The car brought them back to Downing Street where I was able to arrest them. In accordance with the times they were only charged with being drunk in Downing Street otherwise the press had a tendency to blow things out of proportion, and read political motive in to small incidents. They appeared at Bow Street Magistrates’ Court next day and pleaded guilty to being drunk and fined twenty shillings. To the best of my knowledge the other officer was given the cold shoulder treatment by the rest of the crew.

One afternoon Churchill’s car was waiting and, as usual, members of his staff and politicians who were travelling with him came out first. Harold MacMillan who was eventually to become British prime minister came out and entered the car. A little later Churchill came out and was about to get into the car when he saw that MacMillan was in his usual seat. Churchill began to verbally abuse MacMillan for sitting in his seat. It was MacMillan’s reply that astounded me “I’m sorry Sir --I beg your pardon Sir, I promise I’ll never do it again Sir”

Another incident occurred in early 1955 it was very cold and had started snowing. It must have been a Friday as Churchill usually left late Friday to go to his country house. Rumours were circulating about his coming retirement and there was one press correspondent and his photographer waiting for him to leave. The car was waiting with its engine running. As Churchill came out the door the camera man raised his camera and being dull with very little light was using a flash, the electricity for the camera flash coming from a large battery the camera man had over his shoulder. When the flash was triggered the battery shorted with a very loud bang and a puff of smoke. I think Churchill thought he had been shot for he staggered back and was caught by his plain clothes officer. When Churchill recovered from the shock a flow of venomous, obscene language was directed at the camera man. Churchill demanded that the man be arrested and assured the camera man that his newspaper would sack him. Other than a report no action was taken

Nobody liked Point Duty. On fine days the air was full of car fumes, on rainy days one had are very careful that cars had seen the signals to stop. The worst was when it snowed because the snow tended to get trapped in the strap holding one’s helmet on. The roads were treated with a salt to melt the snow and the resulting effect was to lower the temperature and create a sub zero mixture of melting snow and water that seeped into one’s boots. It was impossible to leave without causing a gigantic traffic jam.

The station sergeant controlled the day-to-day running of the station and it was best to be seen in a favourable light by him for he had much influence. The station sergeant would listen to the evidence presented to him by an arresting officer and decide whether there was a case to answer. If he thought not it was referred up the command for a second opinion. He had to keep an occurrence book in detail and this book was written in long hand. As far as I’m aware during my service no cases were referred for lack of evidence. I think everybody was careful not to offend the sergeant so only people who had committed a straight forward crime were arrested.

For all minor occurrences police officers were expected to solve the matter on the spot. So unless a drunk couldn’t walk or refused to stop fighting no arrests were made. Most trouble occurred during the hours 10 p.m. to 6 a.m. and any person arrested during the night had to appear before a magistrate next morning. This meant that the arresting officer and, in some cases the station sergeant, had to be in court by 10 a.m. next morning. And then be on duty next night. The station sergeants were all married men and did not take kindly to having to go to court for some minor incident that could have been solved on the spot.

At this time there was a statute on the books that had been enacted when the Metropolitan Police were formed in 1839. This law gave the Metropolitan Police the power to stop, search and detain any person who police reasonably believed might be in possession of stolen goods or housebreaking instruments. The special power enacted during the war years still required every person to carry an identity card and to produce it on demand. Also it should be remembered that the area of Cannon Row had more police per square mile than any other in the whole of the United Kingdom. With the vast number of police on the streets no right-minded criminal visited the area and there was virtually no crime in the area.

During my service I made few arrests, one was the Irish girls who threw the bottle through the window of 10 Downing Street. Another was for breaking and entering a parked car and stealing a suitcase.

One summer morning about 6.30 am. I noticed a young man about 30 years old wearing a camel hair coat (A camel hair coat was an expensive coat and quite thick.) He was carrying a pig skin leather suit case on his shoulders like a labourer would carry a sack of potatoes. I stopped him and asked where he had come from. He said that he had just arrived from Devon. I noticed that there was striped piece of material poking out the side of the suit case. I asked him what the piece of material represented and he said it was his old school tie. I got him to open the suitcase and the striped material was the corner of a dressing gown. The rest of the suitcase was full of costume jewellery. While looking at the contents of the suitcase I noticed that his shoes were worn down at the heel and hadn’t been cleaned for many a long day.

It turned out that he had broken into a car parked outside a hotel. The owner had put the suitcase in the car and returned to the hotel to pay his bill and when he return a few minutes later the car had a broken window and his suitcase full of samples was missing along with his top coat.

On the streets of central London blue police telephone stands had been set up. The phones were in a small box on top of a pole. Above the box was an electric light fitting with a blue globe. The phones were directly connected to the switchboard of the nearest police station. The station was able to activate the blue light so that if it flashed any passing police office was required to answer it. When arresting a person the police officer took them to the nearest police box to request transport. There was only one police van attached to Cannon Row police station and only one patrol car, to cover the area of four stations.

On the morning I made the arrest of the man with the suitcase I went to the police box nearby in Buckingham Gate, just outside Buckingham Palace there was no vehicle available and I was told to walk the prisoner in. The suitcase was very heavy and the distance over a kilometre. I have always been thankful that he was co-operative and carried the suitcase as I had difficulty in lifting it. The offender pleaded guilty and received a six months’ prison sentence. For this arrest I received a divisional commendation.

On a number of Sundays I was seconded to Hyde Park to patrol Speakers’ Corner. The mere presence of a number of uniformed police in the crowd prevented the pickpockets from openly operating. There were usually some plain clothes officers as well and our job was to assist when they made an arrest. The method used by pickpocket criminals was to stand next to a women tourist in a densely packed crowd around a speaker. One would slice open the bottom of her hand bag with a razor and an accomplice would catch the contents in a bag and immediately pass it on to a third person.

As soon as a person was arrested a large portion of the crowd wanted to see what was happening. The arrested person had to be walked to the police station in the centre of Hyde Park about 500 to 600 yards away. As one walked to the station the crowd followed and the nearer to the station the larger the crowd. Once at the station the crowd dispersed. There was never any real trouble.

There was always a great variety of speakers at Hyde Park Corner Each speaker brought along a stand and would talk on his or her pet subject from religion to politics to revolution to cooking. The speakers who attracted most people were the ones telling pornographic jokes. As a police officer moved into the largest crowd the speaker reverted to some other subject and the crowd moved on. On any given Sunday there were always a couple of thousand people in or near Speakers’ Corner.

On any fine Sunday Hyde Park was littered with people sitting or lying on the grass. The main target for thieves was the handbags of couples. They would watch a couple until they became more interested in each other than in their surroundings and then walk casually by and pick up a handbag. Every Sunday the special police patrol would catch at least one such thief. In the 1950‘s these thieves tended to be Cypriots many of whom had arrived in the UK as refugees.

On a number of occasions I was seconded to do night duty in the grounds of Buckingham Palace. The grounds of the palace are quite large with a reasonable-sized lake and a path that follows the perimeter wall. Besides police there were army sentries posted between the palace building and the grounds. Other than looking at the flower gardens this was as boring as it could get. There were some permanent police there who treated it as an old boys’ home with their own cups etc, in the police post. Nobody from the station liked the posting and we all took the maximum time to get to the station for a break. The security at the Palace was similar to Downing Street with black cotton stretched between spring loaded points which activated an alarm if the cotton was broken.

The only way an officer could call for assistance was by blowing his whistle and during my time in the force I only once heard a police whistle being blown. An officer was chasing a bag snatcher down the Haymarket. Blowing the whistle was not very effective as the sound echoed off the buildings and it was difficult to decide where the sound was coming from.

There were a large number of police stationed at Cannon Row and among its officers were some unusual characters. One was very religious and would always carry a bible with him and would recite quotes from it to members of the public. This he did at times when police had been called to an incident. He was nicknamed “Holy Joe “. A number of officers had university degrees and many had been away in the war and wanted a change for a few years. One had been a commander of landing craft in the Pacific; another had been on an air force bomber station and had been decorated for saving a number of lives by cutting open the nose of a burning bomber that had crash landed. The standard of bearing and adherence to rules provided a standard of comradeship second to none.

There was one colleague who parents had threatened to disinherit him unless he took a responsible job. He certainly wasn’t there for the money. An incident that was widely circulated was of an occurrence that happened when he was on point duty outside Horse Guards in Whitehall. On this particular day it was drizzling and cold and generally unpleasant when a chauffeur driven car stopped at the curb side in the middle of the junction. The female passenger in the backseat of the car wound down the window and tried to call the officer with a wolf whistle. Not used to being summoned in such manner he took no notice. After a while the chauffeur got out of the car and came over to him stating “My lady wants to talk to you “That comment obviously didn’t go down to well as he still took no notice. There was more whistling from the female in the rear seat. About the same time he saw a bedraggled stray dog on the pavement on the other side of the road. He apparently got hold of the dog’s collar and hauled it across the road open the rear door of the car and pushed the dog in. Of course there was complaint and his story was that he thought she was calling the dog.

In another incident, police were attending a society wedding at Saint Margaret’s Church (the church in the ground of Westminster Abbey) this same officer was amongst the contingent of officers attending. When the bride left the church she recognised him and came over and kissed him. The next day on parade the superintendent of the station appeared as we were parading and spoke on police behaviour referring to this particular officer’s action at the wedding. While he was talking the officer in question smirked, with that the superintendent stopped and spoke directly to him. “You should take notice of what your superior officer is telling you“. The retort was quick in coming much to the amusement of the rest of us. “Sir you might be senior to me but never superior”. We left to go on patrol so I don’t know the final outcome

Another character was a tall very erect fellow who was a ‘show off’ and he liked to date young American women tourists. A particular dress code had been adopted by guard’s officers which made them standout. The dress was a white shirt with regimental tie, black jacket with black pin-stripe trousers and a bowler hat in winter a camel coloured three-quarter top coat was worn and a rolled-up black umbrella carried. If a person so dressed walked past the front of Buckingham Palace the sentries on duty would recognise the wearer as an officer and would present arms. Their co-ordinate actions made the result most spectacular. This colleague purchased an identical outfit and with any young lady he wished to impress would pass the front of the Palace wearing the outfit. The sentries not wanting to offend an officer would present arms. I understood the girls were most impressed

On returning to the station to sign off one morning after night duty I was told that one of the officers on the shift had failed to return. After about ten minutes everybody was sent out to look for him, his patrol area was in the area of Parliament Square. It wasn’t long before we were all called back. Parliament Square is surrounded by a number of statues including one of Abraham Lincoln standing in that iconic pose behind a chair, the officer concerned had climbed up the statue and was fast asleep in Lincoln’s chair. It is perhaps not well known that a statue of Oliver Cromwell, England’s only dictator, stands in the grounds of Parliament

There was only one police patrol car in the central area, a Woolsey 6/80, its call sign was ‘C’ for Charlie and to call information room at Scotland Yard was 2MGW. To alert the public of its approach a bell was fitted above the front bumper. This bell had a dull rattle rather than a ring.

Occasionally I was seconded to be a plain clothes observer in the car. The car was too small for four large men and an Alsatian dog and with all four men in the car it was necessary for the dog to sit on the seat in the back with the observer and the dog handler. To overcome the cramped seating the observer, the handler and the dog would leave the car and take a short cuts and then meet up with the car at some arranged point. The only action I saw while seconded to the car was in the weeks just prior to one Christmas. At that time of the year there were more drunks than usual about and all we wanted to do was to get them off the street. The trick used to sober up drunk was to drive the car as near as possible and call the drunk to the car, as the drunk neared the car the driver would duck and the large Alsatian dog which was in the back seat, would lean forward and place his head where the driver’s head had been. At a word from his handler the dog would bark. Seeing a dog driving a police car was usually enough to sober most drunks up sufficiently for them to move quickly on their way

The police cars were cosseted and at the end of each shift the cars were examined for any damage or scratches and if any were found the driver were grounded until a review of its cause was carried out. In the middle of the thirties Lord Trenchard also influenced the language of the vehicle fleet and its drivers when not allowed to operate became ‘Grounded’

When Marshall Tito visited London he had sailed up the river Thames as far as Westminster Bridge where he alighted for the very short drive to Downing Street. For this visit the streets were lined with police and soldiers almost shoulder to shoulder. Senior police chiefs patrolled the centre of the road on horses and in honour of the occasion they were all wore dress uniforms. It was a requirement that all senior policemen should be competent horsemen. While waiting for the Marshall to arrive some students let off a smoke bomb which caused thick, coloured smoke to drift across the route. One police chief was unused to riding and it was obvious that he was there under sufferance. The smoke caused his horse to rear up and he slid backwards over the horse's rear and he landed on his backside in the middle of the road, much to the amusement of the waiting crowd. The only thing hurt was his dignity

There were many ceremonial events most of which were well rehearsed and went without hitch. The biggest foul up was in the weekend before the Coronation of Queen Elizabeth II. The route the procession would take after the Coronation had been lavishly decorated and the tour companies, along with many private individuals, decided to drive the route on the Sunday prior to the Coronation. By 11 a.m. the traffic on the route was gridlocked in every direction and hundreds more were pouring to the city. The day was hot and sunny and the fumes from traffic at a standstill with engines running made breathing difficult. There was a shortage of drinks and toilets and many people travelling on the coaches were getting off and relieving themselves on the pavements.

The morning shift was kept on and all reserves and off duty police were called in. A road block was instituted on Westminster Bridge and all traffic was turned round and sent back the way it had come. All stationary vehicles were required to back up and return the way they had come. It was midnight before the jam was cleared. Most people cooperated with our efforts to rectify the situation. However, one fellow who turned out be a sales manager of a major soap manufacturer, refused to turn round. This man was less than 5 feet tall, with hair pushed straight back and a toothbrush moustache and he was driving an open-top sports car. The police officer standing in front of his car was 6 feet six inches tall and weighed about 200 kilos. The fellow decided he could get pass by driving his car forward so that it touched the officer’s legs and push him out of the way. The officer usually had an inside job with weekends off and I guess he wasn’t very happy to be called out on Sunday afternoon. At some stage the officer decided that he had had enough and leaned over and lifted the offender bodily out of the car and tucked him under his arm with his face to the rear. The man, screaming like a baby, was carried to the police station which was 100 yards away.

In preparation for the Coronation in June 1952, eight-foot high wooden barriers were built in a number of places to assist with crowd control. The barriers were such that a road could be closed off. They were reasonably effective but there were still some major problems. One was in the Mall with a large number of people surging towards Buckingham Palace I don’t recall the reason for the surge. One of the officers was on duty at St James’ Palace and had taken a bicycle with him for transport back to the station for his meal break and he had to cross The Mall. As he approached The Mall he realised that the crowd was too thick to ride through so he alighted and proceeded on foot pushing his bicycle. As he got nearer the centre of The Mall roadway the crowd became so dense that he could no longer push his bicycle so he lifted it above his head. Almost immediately the crowd became a solid sea of people with nobody able to move. There he stayed for 15 minutes until a rescue team arrived to sort the seething mass of humanity out and released him.

Another occasion was on the evening of Coronation Day when there was a fireworks display on the far side of the Thames. The crowd surged down Northumberland Avenue from Trafalgar Square to the Embankment. With no means of communicating to the personnel manning the barrier in Northumberland Avenue (the only mean of letting other police know you needed assistance was to blow of your whistle,) the crowd was so dense that wrought iron railings were bent horizontal and many people fainted. Fortunately there were many First Aid personnel on duty at the various sites and nobody was seriously hurt. I remember the woman occupier of the building which was protected by the wrought iron railings, was very upset and angry when the railings were bent by the crowd. She came to me and bitterly complained that the First Aid personnel had been placing stretchers containing people who had fainted or had been crushed, on her garden and were ruining her flowers. Human nature is always full of surprises.

On a couple of occasions in the aftermath of the Coronation I did plain clothes duty in St James’ Palace where the regalia of the coronation was on display. The public oohed and aahed at the orb, sceptre and crown, not knowing that all the pieces on show were replicas. I felt that the reason police were on hand was to give some creditability to the display. When on night duty with nothing to do, I spent my time sitting on the seat reserved for the Queen and reading. It is, of course, possible that the display items were genuine but those of us doing duty at the Palace were advised they were not the real thing. I have thought in later years how little I or the other officers could have done to stop any attempt to steal the jewels. We were not armed, except for a short truncheon and whistle to call for help. There were no telephones anywhere near and radios for police issue hadn’t been invented.

One of the duties of the police in central London was to ensure the smooth progress of members of the royal family on any trip across London. This meant that an officer was stationed at every junction the royal car was due to pass, to stop other traffic that might in any way hinder the royal’s progress. A number of the royal family became pains in the neck by never being on time. The worst was Princess Margaret who normally was at least half an hour late. The best was Queen Mary who could be relied on to arrive within seconds of the specified time.

During my four years the weather on a few occasions caused some turmoil. In 1951 trams still trundled along the embankment and over Westminster Bridge and London trams collected their electric current using a vertical arm that descended beneath the body of the tram. To make servicing easy, the road on either side of the rail consisted of wooden blocks the same size as the cobble stones which made up the rest of the road. The weather had been dry and hot for about a week then we had a thunderstorm with heavy rain. The heat had caused the tar seal on top of the wooden blocks to melt and crack, the result was that the blocks floated down the bridge leaving the rails and the rest of the road standing proud by about five inches. This caused a huge traffic snarl up.

In 1952 came the great smog. Fog was not unusual but on this occasion it became trapped at low levels and when car fumes combined with the smoke from the Battersea power station just across the river, it became a once in a life time event. I was on duty in Whitehall which has a slight curve in it, normally it’s not noticeable but with smog reducing visibility to no more than a few yards it had a dramatic effect. To keep the buses running they were guided by men walking in front carrying flaming torches, somehow the walkers had crossed over to the opposite lane so that they met head on. At midday I stood under a street light at the entrance to the Mall and the smog was so thick I couldn’t see my own feet. All the cinemas shut as patrons couldn’t see the screen. At the section house in Ambrosden Avenue it was almost impossible to see the television screen even when sitting in the front row. It didn’t do much for our health either I think all of us were off sick within a few weeks. The smog was laden with soot and all outdoor clothes became impregnated with the smell of diesel fumes smoke for coal fires.

A couple of times during the winters the lake in St James’ park froze over and skating was allowed on it. On one particular occasion the lake was frozen but had not been considered strong enough to allow skating. Two of my fellow officers were on night duty at Buckingham Palace and were walking through Saint James Park on the way to the station for their meal break at about 2am when one of them decided to have a slide on the ice. Being winter and very cold there was no one else about. All went well for a while when the officer on the ice took a fall which knocked him unconscious and there he lay on his back on the middle of the lake with helmet sitting proudly upright a few yards away. I was on duty at 10 Downing Street at the time, and his mate came rushing up wringing his hands asking what he should do as he couldn’t swim. Now the lake is no more than a couple of feet deep. I walked back into the park and by the time I arrived the slider had climbed to his feet and started abusing his mate for leaving him.

It was during my time in the police that I met Monica, my first wife, at a friend’s birthday party. Three years after we met we decided to get married and immigrate to New Zealand as we had saved enough to pay the £310 fare to NZ. On my many days on duty at the Changing of the Guard at the Palace I had spoken to numerous people from every corner of the world and in many instances just to provide a subject of conversation asked what their occupations were. I was struck by the large number of ordinary people from N.Z. who had , what were in England, considered very poorly paid jobs, who could afford to come to U.K. with a travelling time of 12 weeks for the return journey. On my pay I couldn’t afford to go to France for a week.

The last point duty I did was in late April 1955 at the junction of Parliament Square and Whitehall. The reason I remember it so clearly is that it snowed and is a most unpleasant experience to get snow trapped in the helmet strap. Drivers in the slippery conditions are slow to stop and there is a constant need to make sure you are not in front of slowing traffic. During my last week at the station the superintendent called me into his office and said would I consider changing my mind as he thought there was a great future for me in the force. He said that he was about to retire after 30 years and now he could afford a brand new car. I went with him to see his new car in the station yard. It was a baby Austin the smallest car on the market. This man was responsible for security at the Palace, Houses of Parliament and Downing Street.

NEW ZEALAND

Monica and I were married at the local church in Malden Manor, Surrey and five days later boarded the "Rangitane" bound for Wellington, New Zealand. We departed on a glorious June day; the muddy Thames seemed clean in the bright sunlight. For the whole trip down the river the railings were crowded with many other emigrants and returning New Zealanders having a last look at a country that most would not see again for a long time. The year we left England still had rationing and generally the economic outlook was bleak. On board we met a metropolitan police officer who had just retired and remarried and together with his young wife had decided to make a new life down under.

I was not a very good sailor and it took me several days to get used to the motion of the ship but from then on I enjoyed the six weeks’ journey. The ship called into Jamaica to allow the English cricket team to disembark. This gave us a chance to spend a day ashore. The strangest things impress people and I was no exception. I was fascinated with the telephone and power cables. The wires were covered with moss that made each wire as thick as a rope. We saw Jamaica as an island of contrasts. We toured in the area around Kingston with the wealthy living in magnificent houses on the hills with the masses in tin shanties down in the town.

The ship was too big to actually dock so passengers and cargo were taken ashore by lighter and on the way back to the ship a thunderstorm passed overhead. With masses of lighting and much crashing and rumbling as the thunderclaps echoed off the mountains. Tenders towing barges with cargo to be taken on board provided much interest owing to the antics of the wharfies. On one of the barges native wharfies had used the sound of the thunder to conceal the dropping of a barrel. The barrel started leaking and immediately each of the wharfies produced a cup that they held under the leaking barrel and the smell of rum floated across the water.

It was pleasant sailing across the Caribbean and I was intrigued by the flying fish that darted out of the sea and the frigate birds seeming to float effortless high over head.

The next port of call was Curacao a small Dutch island with large oil facilities. The town of Willemstad was very Dutch and looked European in spite of the intense heat of the tropics, and the gardens of many of the houses had brilliant flowers. There was a vast array of birds that were so different to the birds of England, some were very brightly coloured and hovered over the open flowers to drink the nectar. The flapping of their wings filling the air with a pleasant hum. We took a small tour and saw a large number of lizards (iguanas) some were extremely large and appeared to be about 4 or 5 feet long with short fat legs. I had never seen such creatures before and as they were not very scared of human beings it was possible to observe them at reasonably close quarters.

At the wharf were a number of boats that we were told had come from Venezuela. They were selling various fruits and fish and were generally referred to as banana boats. Fish was being offered for sale in the heat of the day without any refrigeration and as a customer approached the sales person passed a hand over the fish causing the air above to resonate with buzz of a million flies as the fish was exposed. The smell of the boats must have travelled the length of the island for it was horrendous.

The ship only called in to refuel so after one day we sailed to Balboa and the entrance to the Panama Canal. The weather was hot and steamy in the canal area and on one occasion passengers rushed to one side of the ship when an alligator was seen in shallow water near one of the banks. The canal is a magnificent feat of engineering and was impressive as we sailed past what seemed impregnable jungle not far from edge of the canal and through the locks with the ship being pulled by mechanical donkeys. .

The ship anchored for an overnight stop at Panama City. We did a tour of Panama City with its Wild West appearance with bars and restaurants with doors in two parts with each part swinging separately and in many cases only the bottom half closed which could be pushed either in or out. Not all the pavements were sealed so between some shop entrances was an area of weed covered soil. The air was hot and laden with the smells of the tropics and street lights were surrounded by hoards of flying insects. After a while we returned to the Canal Zone where the American military were in control and visited an American army cinema which was air-conditioned and very cool after the tropical heat. This was also an unusual experience with lots of coffee and pop corn. The film we saw was called “Hit the Deck”.

As we sailed out into the Pacific the smells of the tropics gave way to salt air and the ship returned to the routine of deck games, eating and drinking, and wandering the decks. By this time many passengers wished the journey over. The meals were excellent although it wasn’t many days before the quality of the water deteriorated. The decoration on the daily menu was of interest as the main theme was New Zealand birds.

The next stop was Pitcairn Island to drop off mail and supplies. The islanders came out in long boats over what seemed mountainous seas to the lee side of the ship. Many of the islanders climbed rope ladders that the ship's crew dangled over the side and offered their home made baskets and hats for sale. One of the fascinating features was the size of the islanders' feet. I don’t think there would have been any shoes anywhere in the world to fit them. After a few hours the islanders departed to their lonely island over the very rough sea and the ship sailed off to the next port of call, Wellington, New Zealand

As we neared New Zealand the temperature became colder and as we sailed down the eastern side of the North Island a storm which was typical of New Zealand’s winter weather blew up. As we approached Cook Strait giant waves pounded the ship and ropes were placed across the decks in many places. In the dining room the barriers on the tables were raised to prevent crockery from sliding off as the ship pitched and rolled. In spite of the precautions some china ended on the deck. A number of passengers took to their bunks although most had now acquired their sea legs. In late morning of 13^th July 1955 the Rangitane sailed in to Wellington Harbour with a biting southerly wind following it. The hills on the northern side of the Harbour were covered in snow. The ship anchored out in the harbour and the wind was so strong that it dragged anchor that night. During the next day customs and immigration officers came aboard and my passport was stamped 13^thJuly 1955.

On Thursday the ship pulled into the wharf and we disembarked. The sight of familiar things always reassures the mind and on this occasion it was the sight of wharf police wearing traditional helmets. We took a taxi to the guest house we had booked into for a week. The guest house was in Aurora Terrace, this was the steepest street I had ever seen. We spent the week trying to find some rented accommodation but places for rent were scarcer than a hen’s teeth. Finally a fellow passenger and his wife, who had been provided with a rented house in Hataitai by the company he had come out to join, offered us a room.

The things that registered were the quality of the vegetable shops; the cheapness of meat; the old fashioned trams and the number of American cars. We visited a restaurant in Courtenay Place, and as soon as we were seated the Chinese waiter arrived with a very large pile of bread and an equally large pat of butter (over a week’s ration for a family of four in wartime Britain). I do not recall what was ordered but the quantity surprised us. It was a new experience to be served by a Chinese. I do not recall ever seeing a Chinese in England.

To a newcomer Wellington was quite a surprise with most houses being wooden with iron roofs and in some cases the houses also had corrugated iron walls. Compared with the houses in England the buildings looked flimsy and more like large sheds. All promotional material used to advertise New Zealand produce tended to show flat land with hills in the distance so to see houses perched on steep hillsides was quite unexpected. Public transport in the city was by way of trams with some of them very old with no windows just canvas blinds to keep out the wind and rain. There did not seem to be any restriction on the number of passengers. The trams moved large numbers of people very quickly and efficiently

On the first Sunday ashore a couple who had emigrated to be with their daughter, asked if we would like to have a tour round with them in the car which they brought out with them. The day dawned clear with a cloudless sky, in stark contrast to the howling gales and leaden skies of midweek. We travelled on what is now Highway I north to Paekakariki and Paraparaumu. An interesting feature was the telephone and power poles that in many places were not vertical but leaned to match the contour of the road or hill side. At Paraparaumu we visited the beach, although mid winter it was warm as an English summer day, the sun so warm and the air so clear that it looked and felt like the gods had washed it.

We needed some furniture but with only £50 to our name we decided that the only way to buy was on hire purchase so we visited the furniture shops and inspected beds etc. The shop we decided to buy from was a firm that has since ceased to exist called ‘Kenners”. All new arrivals are easily picked out as newcomers by clothes and accent and we were no exception. In the course of conversation the salesperson asked if I had found employment. I confessed that I hadn’t and he stated he knew that a shop called Faber’s just down the road had a vacancy, the manager was a friend of his and he would telephone to arrange an interview. With nothing to lose I said yes.

I attended the interview and was accepted in spite of the fact that I had stated I knew nothing about furniture or carpets. On the following morning I started in Faber’s carpet department with wages of £13 a week. At this time one New Zealand pound was equal to an English pound and £13 was more than I had been getting as a police officer.

Monica answered an advertisement for a secretary typist and secured a job with the Wellington Employers' Federation and life in New Zealand had begun. Monica lasted two weeks, she couldn’t accept that we were in a different working environment to London and the final straw was when she was told it was her turn to make the tea. She felt that it was beneath her to make tea, it was a junior’s job. She soon found out that such arrangements were normal but she could never gladly accept the situation.

I found the job of selling carpets interesting and I’m sure I confused my colleagues with my method of accessing the quantity of carpet needed for any given room. While they were adding and multiplying manually I found it easier to use a slide rule. I was surprised at the level of responsibility I was given in the quotation of quantities of carpet required for a given job, including the assessing of price.

THE CENTENNIAL RESTAURANT

The main problem for new comers was accommodation, people waited outside the offices of the Evening Newspaper to get the first edition to be able to have first options on any rental accommodation that was advertised. As our arrangement was only temporary we replied to an advertisement that offered work and accommodation. The job was assisting in the running of the Centennial restaurant on the main highway at Paekakariki. This we accepted so after only few weeks at Faber's I left to work as general hand in the restaurant.

The work entailed helping in any way possible with the running of the restaurant. Our duties were to wait at table, help wash dishes and assist in meal preparation and for this we received £18 a week with all food and accommodation provided and with extra pay if we worked on public holidays. It was an ideal place to save as there were no expenses. The accommodation consisted of a two roomed hut; one room just took a double bed the other two easy chairs and a dressing table. The toilet was outside in another hut. We moved in late August and with the coming of summer spent most leisure hours on the beach, with occasional trips to Wellington on the train. A cinema that showed a selection of movies at a nominal price was situated next to the local church in Paekakariki a few minutes’ walk away

Each morning and afternoon the restaurant offered Devonshire teas which consisted of scones with raspberry jam and cream. Roast meals were served at midday and early evening. The restaurant was not licensed for alcohol. All the menus for the main meals were the same tomato soup a choice of one of three roasts, lamb, pork or beef with vegetables and mixed fruit salad and ice cream as dessert. The soup was commercially produced by Watties and came in large cans of concentrate and watered down. The roast meats were cooked once a week with a different roast cooked on different days. On the intervening days the meat was heated up. It was heated by placing the meat on a plate and placing the plate in a very hot oven for a few minutes and then pouring gravy over the meat. Carrots were sliced and boiled; potatoes were roasted along with pumpkin each day. Quite often customer would say how pleased they were to get a meal on a hot plate not knowing the meat had just been heated on it. The dessert was Watties tinned mix fruit salad with a choice of ice-cream.

The water supply for the restaurant came from a spring halfway up the hillside directly opposite. A small metal container collected the water as it flowed from the spring and a pipe carried it down the hill under the railway line and the main highway and into the restaurant. After heavy rain the entrance to the pipe would get clogged with debris and, on one occasion, a frog.

The owner of the restaurant had a major problem; the building was infested with cockroaches. After the restaurant had closed for the day many insecticide bombs were let off. The result was that the next morning the floor would be carpeted with dead cockroaches. Each serving of tomato soup was strained before serving because any item of food not covered and sealed attracted these disgusting insects. The reason for the difficulty in eradicating them was that the cockroaches could hide in the sand underneath the restaurant.

We stayed there until the following June when the novelty of the job wore off and we had found a cottage to rent in Pukerua Bay. I do not know how the manager of Faber’s heard that I was leaving the restaurant but on my last day there he turned up and offered me employment as the senior sales person in their carpet department with an appropriate increase in remuneration. So in July 1956 I returned to Faber’s and Monica and I moved into a rented cottage we had to secured in Rawhiti Road in Pukerua Bay. Monica secured a job with an insurance company.

Although Pukerua Bay is quite a distance from Wellington but it had a very good commuter rail system and the journey only took 40 minutes. Faber's furniture store was in Courtenay Place and sold carpets and furniture on hire purchase and it wasn’t long before I felt quite at home there. There were several places nearby where meat pies were sold and I can still remember how good they were.

This was still the era of 6 pm closure of premises licensed to sell alcohol and the effect was that most males rushed to the public houses to get a drink before closing time. I am sure plenty has been written about these times. Trains leaving Wellington after six pm would have a fair number of male passengers who could not be consider sober, almost all carrying a small case holding two half-gallon flagons of beer. It was not a pleasant experience to enter a public house at any time, they were more like cattle stalls, usually very noisy and smelt of stale beer due the amount spilled on the floor in the 5pm to 6pm period

With the money Monica and I had saved we purchased a Morris car, this enabled us to see more of the country which included a trip to Auckland. One thing which stands out in my mind regarding that trip was the large sign at the start of the Desert Road advising that there were no petrol station for 35 miles

TAUMATA ROAD, PUKERUA BAY

In March 1958 we decided to sell the car and purchase a section in Taumata Road, Pukerua Bay and we applied to the State Advances Corporation for a loan to build a house. The rules were that if you owned a section, State Advances Corporation a government agency, would loan you the full value of building a house. There was choice of about 12 plans or so and the only variation you could make to the house was the details of the windows. The loan was repayable over thirty years at an interest rate of four and half percent. One condition of the loan was that part of it be used to buy life insurance.

We chose a builder who had built a number of houses in the Bay and by August 1958 the house had been built. The drinking water was collected from the roof and stored in a large concrete container which also served as patio outside the lounge doors. In the fourteen years we lived in the house we never ran out of water but on a couple of occasions it was a near thing. We had decided to do all the painting and wallpapering as the State Advances allowed the purchasers to do the decorating if it could be completed in, I think, three weeks after the builder had finished.

A number of new homes had been built in the Bay and their owners had grouped together to work on each other’s houses. It was a great way to learn the techniques of decorating and it was this group who taught me how to hang wallpaper. It has become easier to wallpaper now that all wallpapers are factory trimmed. Before one was able to start wallpapering many hours would be spent cutting the verge off the papers to get a perfect match. The ceilings were of plaster board and if just painted the joints showed so the system adopted was to buy embossed wallpaper; it didn’t matter if the paper was of different colours so long as the embossing was the same. So the first job in any of the houses was to wallpaper the ceilings - a great way to learn. It wasn’t only wallpapering that the group undertook but painting and the laying of concrete paths

Most of the group travelled on the train to work and that is when the weekend arrangements were made. During the working weekend sandwiches and scones and a few beers were produced and it became a social event.

One of the group had boat on the beach and used to go fishing and I was asked if I would like to go along. Very early on a clear, cold Saturday morning I turned up at the beach with fishing gear, a packet of hooks, line, sinker and bait and climbed aboard. The dingy was powered by a small Seagull outboard motor. We set off and travelled along the coast and about 500 meters from the shore the anchor was thrown overboard and we started to fish. As the day wore on the wind started blowing and the fish weren’t biting it was decided to return to the shore. My companion decided that before starting the motor he would have to urinate so he stood and started urinating over the side and in so doing rocked the boat alarmingly. The rocking and the freshening wind caused the boat to swing at anchor causing his fishing line to become tangled in the motor. With the sea now choppy it was impossible to disentangle the line from the propeller of the outboard, so we rowed back to shore. This was my first experience of sea fishing and the last.

Although I travelled on the train I had no specific knowledge of what actual work any of my fellow passengers did, so I did not think anything special of it when one of the men stated that he had to take his car to work the next day “Would we like a ride” and I accepted. The next morning I waited outside my house and when the car when it arrived was 1934 Plymouth with faded paint and much mud on the outside. The driver was in the full uniform of a serving Squadron Leader completes with campaign medals. He explained that Parliament was opening that day and he was needed a couple of day previous he had been on his knees smoothing the concrete on a neighbour’s path.

I mention this incident because it portrays a very basic difference between the England that I had left behind and New Zealand. It was beyond my imagination that a serving officer in the English armed forces would drive such a bomb of a car to an official car park at the Ministry of Defence.

At work I had been promoted to running the company’s carpet department which involve buying the carpet from suppliers and measuring and quoting to achieve sales. I also was given the use of a company van which enabled me to see more of the local countryside. The hours that retailers could operate were strictly controlled All retailers operated 9am to 5.30pm Monday to Thursday and 9am to 9pm Friday with all stores closed Saturday and Sunday, so from an employee’s perspective it was a pleasant life style.

In 1961 Faber’s was purchased by Farmer’s Trading Company and I was transferred to their store in Cuba Street as the buyer of Manchester. I remember my interview with a director of Farmer's who had advised me that I was to be transferred. I explained that I had no knowledge of Manchester and was told I would soon learn. Farmer's Trading Company at that time operated traditional department stores and retailed almost everything a person would want to buy

About this time Monica and I adopted a baby girl. Weekends and holidays were spent improving the house and garden and building a garage to house a new car that we purchased in 1963 and in that year we adopted a baby boy

FARMERS' TRADING COMPANY

Running a Manchester Department in the largest retail store in Wellington was interesting. Imported goods were licensed and the licences were tied to “Empire Preference“. This system was of great detriment to New Zealand and there are a number of instances that stand out in my mind. There were ‘Horrick’s’ sheets, sheeting was imported from Hong Kong to England, there it was cut and made into sheets and pillowcases, wrapped, labelled and exported to New Zealand. Tea towels were purchased from Northern Ireland and we were required to place the order in February to ensure delivery in time for the Christmas trade. On the order styles and patterns were specified but every year many of the styles and patterns were substituted and there was no redress. The other problem was that the price paid was at the factory gate, the importer had to pay freight, insurance and had no control and could not negotiate.

When Parliament voted to revoke the need for licenses, sheeting was then imported direct from many countries and made into sheets. The other benefit was that with goods purchased overseas the buyer could negotiate that the price included freight and insurance. During the time I was at Cuba Street store decimal currency came into being and, in my view, the beginning of the decline in the ability of most people to quickly mentally add and subtract. I recall one senior staff member who was able to run his finger nonstop down a column of pounds, shilling and pence and by the time his finger reached the bottom he had the correct answer

In 1967 I was promoted to store manager of the company’s store in Lower Hutt. It was not a very large store and had a staff of fifteen. Ninety percent of the stock was purchased from either the Wellington store or Head Office in Auckland. I was allowed to purchase a small number of items, of course after referring to Head Office. The store manager was responsible for the quantity of stock and display and the granting of credit to customers and running the ledgers to control the debtors and to ensure there were few bad debts. I was allowed a large amount of freedom with only a couple of supervisory visits a year. Advertising was handled mostly by Head Office with a full programme set at least two months ahead. A small percentage I was able to control locally. I had the use of a company van for travel to and from work and for use over weekends. The town of Lower Hutt was granted a trading exception and was allowed to trade until 9 pm on Thursday evenings instead of Friday.. The store did excellent trade as it was the only shopping area open on Thursday evenings.

The worst day of my time managing the Lower Hutt store occurred on a Friday and it is a day I shall never forget. I arrived at the store as usual about 8-30 am and by 9 am all the four office girls had telephoned in sick. I had just arranged for the senior sales person to be seconded to the office when one of the salesmen told me that a female customer was walking round the store placing a quantity of women’s clothing in a bag. When approached she had calmly walked out. She was pointed out to me and I ran after her. When she saw me coming she ran but I soon caught up to her about 100 yards down the High Street and caught hold of her wrist and at that instant she started screaming. We were outside a shop selling handbags and the owner of the store came out and started hitting me with a large handbag telling me to stop ill treating my wife. I finally got her to stop and to call the police. With the help of another member of the staff from the handbag shop the female with the clothing in her bag was escorted back to the store. The police eventually arrived and took the offender away.

Later that morning the police rang to say that they were just going to caution her. I was not amused and said that I would meet them at the Magistrates' Court to fill out a charge sheet if they wouldn’t. No sooner had I come off the phone a senior police officer rang back to say that the privilege of laying a charge given to the public under British common law had been repealed by Parliament, but that he agreed that she should be charged. Later that day the police executed a search warrant on the offender’s home and recovered ninety jumpers that had been stolen from Woolworth’s.

The surprises of the day were not yet complete, after struggling through the day being short of staff I started to drive home and whilst stationary at a road junction in Pauatahanui a Morris car came round the corner too fast and collided with the van. There was wasn’t much damage to the van just a large dent by the front wheel, the Morris radiator was punctured and one wheel was bent in half. Thankfully nobody was hurt and I was very pleased to get home and kept a low profile for the rest of the day.

RETURNING TO ENGLAND

In 1972 Monica’s father had a stroke and it was decided that the whole family would return to England for a visit our first since leaving in 1955. The children were still young enough to travel half fare so in February 1972 we started on a six weeks holiday to U.K. The first part of the journey to Sydney was on an Electra aircraft, a turbo jet. Flying was still a relaxed affair and on the flight across the Tasman both children were taken to the flight deck and took turns sitting in the pilot’s seat. At Sydney we changed to a B.A.O.C. aircraft a VC 10 and flew on to Perth for a fuel stop. Also travelling on the plane was Norman Kirk who was to become a New Zealand prime minister. At the airport he moved among the passengers as though he was electioneering. The plane landed in Singapore and we spent another hour in the transit lounge before flying to Bombay. Each time the plane took off we were given a meal a total of seven meals were served between New Zealand and U.K.

At Bombay all the passengers were kept on the aircraft whilst it was being serviced. The next stop was Tehran, here we were taken on buses from the aircraft to a transit lounge, and the transit lounge had racks of clothing mostly made from sheepskins. Here they served all the passengers with tea in glass cups and saucers. It was very cold with snow on the edges of the runway. When the time arrived to re-board the plane everybody was searched by armed guards they even inspected the contents of all hand bags. It all seemed ridiculous as nobody had been allowed to leave the transit lounge

We next landed at Zurich and as we came into land we had a beautiful view of the snow-covered Alps. Then from clear blue skies suddenly we were in cloud and we landed in a dull overcast day. The years around 1972 were the times when aircraft were being hi-jacked and although there had been nil security in New Zealand, Europe was on full alert and here in Switzerland as the plane taxied on the runway light armoured vehicles shadowed us until we reached the terminal building. Nobody was allowed to leave the aircraft whilst it was being serviced.

The next stop was Heathrow in the western suburbs of London. When I looked out of the plane London was exactly as I remembered it, grey, foggy, with a light drizzle and on leaving the aircraft it was very cold. We left the aircraft by walking down the steps and the railing on the side was wet and sooty and quickly made our hands very grimy.

We were met by a cousin of Monica’s who had managed to rent us a house in Chobham for the duration of our stay. One of my first jobs was to rent a car from a local garage. With a car we were able to travel to visit Monica’s father who was in hospital, and visit my mother and sister whom I had not seen for seventeen years. The main roads were much improved but very little provision had been made for parking and every street had vehicles parked on the roadside. Streets were noticeably dirty with rubbish blocking the gutters. On leaving one's native country memories are retained of how things were and often a return visit tarnishes these memories making the acceptance of changes hard to accept. This also applied to the price of goods and services and to me everything seemed very expensive.

When I visited my mother and sister in the village of Darenth very little had changed. There were a few new houses in the lane and on the area that had been used as allotments. A surprise was to see many of the same people waiting at the local bus stop the only difference was that they all looked older. What I now noticed was the constant smell in the air of diesel exhaust.

We went to the area in London where I had worked and visited Buckingham Palace to sign the visitor’s book. I knew from my time in the police that all one has to do was to ask the police officer at the gate and you would be escorted into a small room on the northern side of the palace which had been set aside for that purpose. On arriving at the gate the officer on duty was one of my colleagues during my time in the force. We exchanged news of the last seventeen years. His last comment was he wished he had moved on as I had made it. As he had only eight more years to go he was now only there for his pension.

During our stay England was subjected to much industrial agitation with many industries on strike at various times. The strike causing most disruption was the miner’s strike which caused the electricity supply to be shut down from time to time. The house we rented was heated by oil fired central heating but every time the power supply was cut the heating shut down and had to be primed to get it going again so, on occasions it was very cold especially when it snowed. One night when returning from a visit to my mother, we were driving along a motorway when there was a power cut and suddenly all the streets lights and traffic lights were extinguished. It was quite a frightening experience with three lanes of traffic travelling at speed. I was quite pleased when the visit to England was over and I was able to leave again for a more pleasant land

We flew back on a Douglas airliner of Pan Am a major American airline to Los Angles there transferred to an Air New Zealand plane. Air New Zealand had not yet extended their service to U.K. We arrived in Los Angeles very late, in fact only ten minutes before the scheduled departure of the Air New Zealand plane and as the plane we were on pulled in to the terminal building I could see the Air New Zealand plane in the next bay. I knew that if we missed the plane next one was two days away. When we got off the plane I moved to the head of the queue and was able to convince the supervisor to rush us through Customs. I explained that we were booked on the plane in the next bay and would he telephone the pilot telling him I was Don Page and would he wait for us. I’ll never be sure how much effect it had but the supervisor rushed us through Customs and on to the plane. The moment we boarded the doors were closed... I was very thankful as I had no American money if fact very little money at all until I arrived back in New Zealand.

We arrived back in the middle of March and neighbour came and collected us in our car. I didn’t notice until arriving at our house in Pukerua Bay that the petrol gauge was showing empty, there was no petrol station in Pukerua Bay the nearest being Plimmerton. So with the need for some basic essentials I drove towards Plimmerton when about one and half kilometres from the petrol station the engine of the car died. Compared with England it was very hot as I walked to the petrol station and back with a can of petrol. So ended a trip around the world.

MASTERTON

While I was overseas the manager of the Masterton store had indicated that he wished to retire and on returning to work on the following Monday I was offered this managerial position. So in June 1972 we moved to Masterton. We sold the house in Pukerua Bay where we had lived for fourteen years and first rented a house then had a Lockwood house built on the hill just below the Golf Course, with magnificent views over the town and the whole Wairarapa Valley

No sooner had I arrived in Masterton the company purchased the building at the rear of the existing store and decided to double the size. Masterton was a most interesting town because of its isolation from the rest of New Zealand. It takes at least one hour to drive to a major centre either Wellington or Palmerstone North. Because of this isolation many of inhabitants are related and it so happened that the wife of one of Farmer’s directors had originated from the town. This tenuous connection was extremely useful and helped to get work carried out quickly and efficiently. Her cousin was one of the architects in the town and another cousin owned the timber yard. The manager of the power company was the son-in-law of the owner of the timber yard and so on.

Besides extending the size of the store I was instructed to bring the stores accounts into line ready for the centralization of accounts. Up until 1972 the store had operated as it had done under its previous owners C. Smith of Wellington. When I arrived it had large quantities of obsolete stock. There were two or three boxes of women’s hairnets and when I enquired how many had been sold in the last month I was told nil, but the Mayoress always bought two or three a year. The next item was a large range of women’s hats. I was told that they always sold a lot just before the Wellington races, and sure enough in the week preceding the races there were a number of sales but in the week following all but one was returned as unsuitable. Needless to say these sort of items were removed from the store’s inventory

The store kept its own ledgers. Customers with an account that would at any other store be paid in full within a month were allowed to withhold payment for up to eleven months without penalty and allowed to continue adding to the account. The system had developed during the depression 1930’s to assist farmers. They were allowed to pay their bills once a year when they received their wool cheque. With the coming of computerisation and centralization this had to change. The trick was to get customers to change their ways without losing sales. This meant talking to almost every customer on a one to one basis. During my stay at Masterton every customer was given a seven digit number and accounts transferred to Head Office in Auckland

Two occurrences are worth mentioning

(1) A severe wind storm which blew in the windows in Chapel Street showering splintered glass over much of the furniture. From then on it was necessary to brace the plate glass windows when ever gale force winds blew from the west

(2) An earthquake that registered just 5 on the Richter scales brought the suspended ceiling down on staff and customers. Nobody was actually hurt but everybody received a great fright

The extension of the store with many structural alterations it was necessary to employ an architect the architect was one of those people that you hear other people talking about but rarely meet. He was a most interesting gentleman and quite eccentric in many ways. I’m sure that much his eccentricity was due to the fact that Masterton was isolated and that rather than wait for a product to arrive from Wellington or Auckland he would make a substitute. In his shed he had a woodturning lathe that operated almost automatically with a series of cans of water and pulleys and belts providing the pressure on the chisels. The pressure was changed by adding or removing water.

His keenness to fix things himself rather than wait didn’t always work and a classic example of this was the story of his false teeth. Two days prior to one Christmas he dropped his false teeth and then stepped on them breaking them in a number of places. All the dental technicians were away on holiday and he told everybody that he was not going to miss Christmas dinner just because his teeth were in pieces. So in the days up to Christmas day he made a wooden frame to hold the pieces together. On Christmas day he drove out to Castlepoint to the family bach. Once there he put his teeth in the frame he had made and joined them together with araldite. Araldite hardens quicker if heated and knowing this he placed his false teeth in the electric oven in the kitchen and turned it on low. The electric oven had seen better days and it is highly probable that the thermostat was not functioning properly. During the morning friends called and he joined each visitor in an alcoholic drink. Then came the time when his wife wanted the oven to cook their Christmas meal. On inspection the Araldite had not completely set. So he turned the oven up to its maximum temperature, telling his wife he wouldn’t be long. More friends arrived and more drinks and time just slipped away. The next thing there was smoke coming from the kitchen area. With oven at maximum temperature the wood of the mould had started to smoulder. The composite material that false teeth were made of had melted. His teeth were now individually glued either to the shelves or the base of the oven. I recall the result was a cold Christmas dinner, an irate wife and a new oven.

In February 1978 Monica decided her future lay with a dairy farmer and so we parted. That was just the beginning of a year of change for me. In September I was promoted to become manager of Farmer’s department store in Cuba Street, Wellington City. It was also a year of major changes in the manner of Farmers operations in the Wellington region,

From 1961 until 1978 it had operated a subsidiary company with six satellite branch stores. From September 1978 each store became a branch of Farmer’s, Auckland. Changes to the rules were necessary as the company was entering the computer age with northern stores already in the first stage. As a subsidiary the Wellington store received management fees from the six branches these fees exceeded the profit for the Wellington store so it was obvious that major changes were needed if Wellington was to show a profit in its own right. In September 1978 the number of staff employed in the Wellington store was two hundred and ten, by the time I was promoted to regional manager in 1981 the number was sixty nine this drop was achieved without redundancies.

The advent of computer meant that customer numbers were more important than names as every customer was given a unique number. Those numbers were still operative in 2008. It was during my time at the Cuba Street store that the store sales and payments of customer accounts went on line with all accounts being kept in head office in Auckland. For the first time it was possible to have an exact up-to-date position on a customer’s account from any of company’s stores instantly. The first steps into the computer age were a period of great change. In many ways computers made store personnel more like robots. All addition and subtracting was now done by the computer other than the need to push specific buttons there was hardly any need to have any knowledge of maths at all. I had to agree that it made the store more efficient with fewer errors but the computer had a dumbing down effect on the jobs of most store personnel. All transactions whether sales or account payments were both transmitted on line and kept on a tape. The reason being some transactions became lost in transmission. The most significant immediate effect was the decline in bad debts as the system barred any additional goods being charged to a customer’s account while any portion of it was overdue. Part of the on-line system, an initial type of e-mail, allowed direct communication between stores and it was possible to send a message to all the company’s stores at once. With all purchasing accounts along with customer accounts on line the number of store personnel required to operate the store rapidly declined.

There are a number of instances worth recording. One was the promotional visit by Mickey Mouse. Quite elaborate arrangements were made for a ceremonial drive from the airport to the store where he was due to be met by the then Prime Minister Robert Muldoon, but at the last moment that was called off. A suggestion was made that the leader of the opposition meet Mickey but head office declined stating that it could see the headlines “Mouse meets Mouse”. I don’t recall who did eventual greet Mickey on arrival as I was engaged sorting out a major theft ring.

On the Friday night prior to Mickey’s arrival a junior staff member was seen to hand over a quantity of cigarettes to a friend without any payment being made. On being stopped by security personnel on leaving the store she explained that lots of staff were doing it and she named the staff and what they had taken without payment and the method. As a result police were informed and on the Tuesday a number of search warrants were obtained and police, in company with the other local store managers, executed the warrants and a large quantity of stock was recovered. The store received a large amount of publicity but not the sort desired. The evening television news while telling the story showed the entrance to the store with its posters of Mickey Mouse.

This next story came to light or should I say smell on a Monday morning. The company must have upset a customer because the smell was coming from a row of men’s suits. Sometime before closing on Friday evening some person or persons unknown had placed fish heads in the jacket pockets of ten men's suits. This smell permeated the men’s clothing area for a couple of days despite all efforts to clear it. The suits had to be dry cleaned and sold at a discount

A large store always attracts a wide range of customers and the store in Cuba Street was no exception and on one Friday an adolescent male with a shaven head walked through the store with a live rat on his head much to the concern of the female staff

The store operated some public toilets which were a constant cause of problems. Soap and toilet paper disappeared in minutes of being put out. People used the toilets for all sort of purposes and on a number of times patrons had to be woken up so the store could close. The hygiene of some of the public left much to be desired this caused other members of the public to quite rightly complain about the state of the toilets. A full time person was employed to try and maintain a reasonable standard

Theft is always a problem, more so in the larger stores, a section of the public become quite expert at stealing and a team of three security officers were employed both as a deterrent and to catch offenders. Many of offenders are career criminals who find the penalty for stealing from shops so much lighter than if caught burgling

In the city I came across problems that I had not encountered in the smaller towns. In the city the liaison between various organisations is missing. As an example, credit and debit cards had not yet made their appearance and well over eighty percent of stores takings were in cash. One late night trading in the week before Christmas, The Retailers’ Federation made arrangements with the Bankers' Association for one bank to stay open until 10 pm to take sealed bags of money so that the stores would not have large amount of cash in the stores over the weekend. The bank designated was one in Willis Street and all law enforcement agencies were informed. On the Friday night in question the Traffic Department of the Wellington city council had a special traffic patrol to prevent cars from stopping in Willis Street. I drove my office personnel to the bank and on stopping outside to take in the sealed bag containing over fifty thousand dollars in cash the city council traffic officers issued an infringement ticket for stopping. I was not the only one.

AREA MANAGER

In 1981 I was promoted to area manager and over the next nine years until I retired I was responsible for various groups of stores. The job entailed much travelling especially when I had responsibility for the South Island stores. The trip to the South Island stores was a weeklong trip starting at Wellington airport on Monday morning and flying to Invercargill arriving at midday and spending that afternoon in Invercargill store. Catching the 6.50am plane to Dunedin and spending the day in Dunedin store and flying that evening to Christchurch and spending Wednesday in the two Christchurch stores and midday Thursday flying to Hokitika to spend Friday morning in the Greymouth store before flying back to Wellington on Friday afternoon.

On my first trip all went well until the time I arrived at the Christchurch airport to take the flight to Hokitika. I was told, along with other passengers, that the flight had been cancelled due to bad weather and passengers would be taken by bus. As it was my first trip I decided I had better go. The other passengers had a long-standing complaint stating that they should get a refund for the reason the plane and the bus went on alternative days and the bus fare was only half of the airfare, if the plane was cancelled for any reason there was no rebate for having to go by bus. As we left Christchurch airport by bus it started to rain and I was beginning to think that perhaps I should have cancelled. I was carrying a suitcase and wearing a city raincoat over a suit, not the most suitable wear for travelling by bus in wet weather and it was noticeable that the other passengers had produced woollen jumpers and thick coats

The journey was uneventful until we reached the village at Arthur’s Pass here with the rain falling like being under a shower at full pressure, the bus stopped for a refreshment stop. Refreshments were free to all passengers taking the place of those on board the aircraft. The first thing I noticed was that as the passengers dashed through the rain they all carried large bags with them. Once inside the café I was surprised to see many putting cakes and sandwiches and savouries in their bags. One of them must have seen my look of surprise because I was told that that was the best they could do for having paid full fare for a plane ride and not getting a refund.

On the bus was one middle-aged American women tourist who sat in the seat directly opposite the driver. As we left the restaurant the rain began falling with even greater intensity and seemed to affect the driver who began to wheeze and cough. Once the bus got moving the tourist started waving her arms about pointing and talking to the driver, by this time the road was winding and with heavy rain the road was becoming littered with rocks falling from the cliffs above. I now saw the driver produce an asthma puffer with he used with increasing frequency. While he wheezed and coughed he was turning the steering wheel with larger revolutions as the road became more winding and the tourist seemed unaware of his need to concentrate on the job of driving and when he didn’t answer she kept raising her voice. The rest of the bus became quiet, out of the window I could see small rivers flowing over the road into the gorge below joining the rusting wrecks of cars that had not made it.

Part way down the western side of the Pass the bus stopped as the road was now impassable due to a large boulder sitting in the middle of it. There were a number of men on the bus besides myself and with some pushing learnt from rugby scrums the boulder was pushed to the roadside. Back on the bus and rather wet we continued the journey with the wheezing driver and the talkative tourist.

The plane journey from Christchurch to Greymouth consists of a flight to Hokitika and a taxi ride from Hokitika into Greymouth. The bus route intersects with the route which the taxi takes but this was unknown to me. To my surprise the bus stopped and the driver stated that any passengers for Greymouth should alight at this point and a taxi would be along in a few minutes to take them on to Greymouth. I was the only passenger for Greymouth so wearing a two-piece suit and one very wet raincoat I stepped off the bus to await the arrival of the taxi. The bus stop was in front of a boarded-up shop which thankfully had a veranda for the rain had continued to fall in sheets. The bus pulled way and I was left cold and wet with a suitcase to sit on. The night was completely black there were no street lights not of glimmer of light from any quarter and the rain continued to thunder on the iron roof. It seemed like hours as I walked the length of the veranda a number of times listening for the sound of an approaching vehicle. At last through the rain I saw head lights and finally a taxi stopped and a cheerful voice proclaimed “Welcome to the West Coast Mr Page”

The rest of the journey into Greymouth was uneventful and the store had advised the hotel that I would be arriving so I was warmly welcomed with an open fire in the lounge and a meal and so began my first visit to the West Coast.

On my travels around the South Island there was one other amusing incidence it also involved the journey from Christchurch to Hokitika. The plane took off on schedule and we headed westward over the Alps, the wind was blowing strongly from the west and this caused moderate turbulence. On board the plane was a woman with a small boy about the age of five. To land at Hokitika airport the plane usually flew out to sea to turn and have better visibility of the landing strip. This day was no exception. The small boy was very talkative gradually getting more exited as the plane bounced up and down. When the plane turned to start the approach we hit an area of greater turbulence and the plane became very quiet except for the sound of the engines and the voice of the small boy. When the plane made a larger bounce than usual the boy stopped talking for a while then announced for all hear “Mummy, I’ve just wet my pants”

Being an area manager I got a very good over view of the business with the problems and benefits of centralisation. The main benefit was the ability to get a price differential due to the ability to buy in bulk. The main problem was that one size does not fit all. An example is women’s dresses, for the summer months places like Masterton and Invercargill get very hot days and are able to sell sleeveless dresses while Wellington with its constant breezes needed dresses with sleeves. Another example is areas with large Island populations, the arms of these women are often the same size as a large man’s neck. There was never sufficient large sizes of clothing this was primary due to the fact that large sizes take a greater quantity of cloth and the price is averaged with all dresses, no matter what the size, retailing at the same price.

The innovation of some of the company’s store managers was, I felt, something to admire. This tale involves the company store in Greymouth. Sometime in the ‘80’s there was a fashion trend to paint the roofs of houses brown. The company soon ran out of brown and there was considerable delay in new stocks becoming available. With the fashion being brown the old colours of red and green were sitting on store shelves not selling. Stock sitting on shelves not selling gets discounted. On one of my trips around the South Island the store manager of Dunedin stated how pleased he was that Greymouth had taken all his discounted red and green paint and he had received in return some labelled brown. I made no comment but when I arrived in Greymouth I asked how he had managed to get rid of such large quantities of red and green paint that nobody else could sell. His reply was easy, he had employed a local school boy after school and got him to mix tins of green and red paint together and they were then sent back to the same stores with over-printed labels as brown. Being discounted paint this store has made a tidy profit.

During my time as area manager Farmer’s acquired the business of ‘Haywrights’ a South Island departmental store operator that had attempted to expand in the North Island but had been unsuccessful. On the week of the takeover I was sent, with other personnel, from Farmer’s to supervise a stock take and to evaluate the stock on hand. One of problems of a failing company is to take stock on to the books at other than realistic market prices. There were women’s dresses at least 10 years old that were still marked at the original price

The early 1980’s were turbulent times at Farmers, retailing was moving to the suburbs and into shopping Malls. In Wellington two of the four departmental stores ceased trading. D.I.C. and James Smith and the Farmer’s were taken over by a new comer, a property developer ‘Chase Corporation” It is my opinion that ‘Chase” directors and staff with no knowledge of retailing saw Farmer’s as a “cash cow.” Retailing does have great cash flow but also expenses are equally high and retail margins were extremely narrow so it was a poor purchase other than to provide some status to Chase.

The ethics of some of the Chase personnel left much to be desired such as when visiting Wellington they attempted to charge their hotel expenses to the Wellington ‘Farmers’ store. On a number of occasions wives of “Chase’ personnel attempted to obtain staff discount and wanted special privileges such as car parks made available for them. Being taken over is not a happy time for staff.

The main aim of Chase was to get Farmer’s into new buildings. The Farmers building in Cuba Street was a major earthquake risk and the company commissioned a report in the sixties, this confirmed the risk. The directors never made a decision to take action. Chase’s idea was to build new stores and rent to Farmer's, their subsidiary company, at a rent set by Chase. Had Farmer’s agreed to this and had moved into the new premises it would have been impossible to make a profit. The area I was involved in was the effort made by Chase to get Farmer’s to agree to rent a new building they wanted to erect in Courtenay Place. They did not succeed and Farmer’s store still operates from its building in Cuba Street and Chase is but a memory. Chase executives appeared not to have any experience on the shop floor and had total disregard for expenses

Two examples of wasteful expenditure are as follows. It was their desire to build a special building for Farmer’s in Courtenay Place. I was called on to attend a meeting in Auckland so I flew to Auckland on the first flight of the day, sometime during the meeting a visit to the site was desired so along with a number of others I flew back to Wellington, then later in the day back to Auckland. Chase’s desire was to show that they were on the ball. For all their posturing the building was never built, to have done so on their figures would have made the rent prohibitive and Farmer’s would have joined Chase in disappearing.

The second was an attempt for Chase to show that Farmer's branches were performing below their maximum efficiency. Chase employed an Australian consultant to visit all Farmer’s branches, he flew from Auckland to Palmerston North in a hired 10 seater plane which was equipped with a mini-bar and snack food was brought on at every stop. I met him at Palmerston and joined him on his visits to the branches that I supervised. We flew to Wellington, Paraparaumu, Wanganui and New Plymouth. Nothing came of the visit.

During my time as area manager I assisted with the development and opening of several new stores, the one that came closest to grief on opening day was Lower Hutt. Everything had been set in place the previous evening and duties had been allotted to the store staff and those seconded from head office to ensure a smooth opening. There were a number of the company directors on hand to meet Princess Ann’s husband Mark Phillips who was to perform the opening ceremony. At 8.40 am on the opening morning I had a telephone call from the newly appointed manager to say that he and his wife had had a row and she had taken all his keys and thrown them in the fish pond and he could not find them, unfortunately these keys included those to the strong room. Without access to the strong room we had no cash to provide any float money for the thirty or so tills in the store. The security company Amourguard had been contracted to deliver money to the bank and with their assistance and the use of their money I was able to provide sufficient change for the tills to start operating. The store opened on time without the directors being aware of anything untoward.

A DIFFERENT DIRECTION

In 1979 I met and married my second wife. We purchased a house in Nomandale a suburb of Lower Hutt which was suitable both of us to get to work.

By 1979 I realised that there was only twelve more years to the then compulsory retirement age of sixty. Our initial idea was to move to the Bay of Plenty with its beautiful beaches and hot thermal pools but this meant that my wife's house would be left empty for the majority of the next twelve years and that was not a good idea..

About this time we found a delightful little cottage in Mill Road, Otaki. It had one bedroom, nicely proportioned living room and quite a large kitchen with a garage and a secluded garden. This meant that from then on most Friday evenings or Saturday mornings (most retail stores at this time closed on Friday and didn’t open until Monday) we travelled to Otaki with its wonderful beach.. The cottage was painted and wallpapered and made into a most enjoyable destination for relaxing weekends where we would sit out on the steps for a late breakfast before taking our Airedale puppy, Cassie, walking on the beach. We collected pipis for cooking which Cassie adored and firewood for the colder nights.

At the end of one term at college my wife brought home a white rabbit as there was no one to look after it during the school holidays. I built a run for it with wire netting around a cage so that it could have some air and eat the grass on the lawn. The rabbit had learned well at college and it was wasn’t long before he found that he was able to jump over the netting, and when he had had enough of freedom he would jump back into his enclosure. He also decided that under the house was a preferable home to the cage I had made.

We didn’t pay any attention to what the rabbit, now called ’Arfor’ (as in R for Rabbit), might do whilst we were both away at work until one day the neighbour called over the fence with some small carrots in his hand saying perhaps your rabbit would like these. On accepting them he then said “He might as well have them as he’s eaten all the rest.” Another time as I drove home down the cul-de-sac where we lived I saw a women from a house at the entrance to the cul-de-sac running along the road with a blue clothes basket being held high above her head. I partially slowed then I saw hopping in front of her a large white rabbit. Fearing that ‘Arfor’ had been eating some of her plants I drove into the garage under the house without acknowledging any ownership of the rabbit. On entering the kitchen I saw ‘Arfor’ returning home and disappearing under the house

One late evening when we had gone to bed the quiet of the road outside was broken by the sound of squealing tyres as a car from the house opposite came to sudden halt. Then silence and few minutes later we heard heated voices and a women’s words that echoed through the night “You thought you saw a white rabbit in the road I said you shouldn’t drive you had had too much to drink” In the weeks that followed in spite of trying to confine him to the property Arfor continued to roam at will.

At weekends we went to the Otaki cottage and took ’Arfor” in a cage in the back of the van with ‘Cassie’ lying beside the cage. On arriving at the cottage the rabbit was placed in a run that was made to be attached to his cage. Here his antics continued. The first thing he did was to dig a hole deep enough to disappear in. A little later he was busy pushing the sand back into the hole, he had struck water. He worked very hard filling in the hole and patting it down.

Another time when we got up and looked in his run there was no ’Arfor’ to be found. A look over the neighbour’s fence showed him enjoying a feed of asparagus we set out to recapture Mr Rabbit. By this time he had learnt how to be evasive and very quick and catching him proved quite difficult. Eventually he was returned to his run and more netting was applied to make him secure. When it was time to go home he would refuse to leave his run and go into his cage for travelling and after many fruitless attempts to coerce him into his cage including getting in the run with him, I found that easiest method was to start the motor mover near the run. The noise drove him into the cage.

‘Arfor” wandered the Normandale hillside at will, he went far and wide and was often seen at the bottom of the hill, and how he avoided the many dogs is a mystery. We really didn’t want a rabbit and one day one of Farmer’s managers said that his children had been given a guinea pig and his wife felt it was lonely and they were going to get it a companion, I immediately offered him ’Arfor’ with all his accoutrements of runs and cages and the offer was accepted so ’Arfor’ was transferred to a new home.

A few weeks later when I next saw the manager he poured out all his troubles regarding ’Arfor’. On arriving home ‘Arfor’ had been placed in the cage with the guinea pig and had almost immediately started fighting the guinea pig much to the distress of the children, so he had to be separated and placed in cage of his own. He was placed on the lawn in his run and cage but one Sunday morning he escaped and entered their neighbour’s house. The manager and his family were unaware ‘Arfor’ had escaped until the neighbour’s son came banging on the back door asking for help as the rabbit was in their house. His mother was in the toilet without any shoes on and the rabbit wouldn’t let her out and it was trying to scratch her toes. ‘Arfor was collected and returned to his cage on the lawn.

Unfortunately ‘Arfor’ had a sad ending he got too brave and ventured on to the railway line where he proved no match for the train. His body was returned to his home and he was laid to rest under an apple tree

We spent many pleasant days at the cottage in Mill Road Otaki, and much time was spent walking the area and the wonderful beach. We collected shell fish and walked the beach and dunes.

In 1981 it was decided to look for a piece of rural land mainly to satisfy a dream of mine to own a piece of land to grow some things on. We looked at many pieces of land in the Otaki - Levin area and we viewed a piece of land in Kimberley Road, Levin which seemed to suit our requirements. We saw this piece of land on a Sunday and the next day, Monday, I was off on a trip to the South Island stores. On the Tuesday the agent telephoned asking did we want that piece of land and suggesting if we did it would be prudent to pay a deposit and sign up for it. My wife travelled to Levin and paid a deposit with a cheque. That night she rang me in Riccarton telling me what she had done saying would I make sure there was sufficient funds in the current account to cover the deposit. The house in Whakatane was on the market but at that time hadn’t sold. Thankfully it did before settlement date and we owned the land on which we would to live for twenty two years. We named the property ’Trolling Down” after the small hill that divided the village of Darenth where I grew up and the nearest town of Dartford.

’TROLLING DOWN’, KIMBERLEY ROAD

Having purchased the land it was decided to grow strawberries for export and after the first crop of standing hay was sold an area was sprayed, cultivated, and generally prepared for the planting season. On the rest of the land it was decided to run some steers for fattening. So one Tuesday I took a day off work and visited the Levin sale yards. I had never been to a cattle sale before so it was a very new learning experience. On that particular day there weren’t any steers for sale so I bought ten heifers. I found out that many local farmers attend the weekly sales with no intention of buying or selling but to chat to acquaintances and catch up on the local news.

We had a contactor plough the area required for the strawberry crop and arranged the purchase of sixty thousand strawberry plants. Then in midwinter we planted the strawberry plants three abreast on top of rows of black plastic. It took us a while to find the best method of planting, the reading of books on any subject is a good way to start but the reality is quite different. We found the best method was to push the roots of the plants though the plastic with the flat end of a piece of wood similar to an office ruler. Like most crops strawberries are subject to some diseases and need spraying. The two main ones we were advised were both fungal type diseases, small round spots on the leaves and rotting of the plant’s crown, to do this we needed a tractor I proudly purchased a I thought was a suitable tractor. When I got the tractor home its wheel width was such that instead of driving between the rows one wheel was on top of one row, so we ended up spraying by hand for the various diseases.

Then as harvesting time arrived the government of the day changed the rules and stopped paying export subsidies. This meant that the whole project was uneconomic. To recover our expenses we sold some of the strawberries for use in the manufacture of things like ice cream. On Thursdays and Fridays berries were picked and packed in punnets and Saturday we took them to the open markets in Palmerston North. Towards the end of the season we opened up the paddock and allowed ‘pick your own’ at five dollars a bucket. By these strategies we were able to recover our expenses.

With the cattle growing bigger our neighbour asked what were we going to do with the young cattle and suggested they be mated. He purchased a young bull for us and cattle breeding began.

During this time we had decided on the type of house we wanted and where it would be sited and let a contract for it to be built. In due course the builder turned up with machinery to clear the ground for the foundations. Now cattle are extremely curious creatures and as the house site hadn’t been fenced off the cattle explored the contents of the open car boots removing plans and then to top it off followed the truck with the digger out the gate and up the road.

The house building commenced in November 1984 the actual construction of the building had been let out by the Master Builders to a sub contactor and by mid February it was getting behind schedule. We had a clause in the contract that the builder would have to pay our out of pocket expenses should he not finish on the date that he had specified. The outcome was that the subcontractor was sacked and two young builders finished the home it being available for us to move in late May 1985.

The penalty clause was activated as we had sold our beach cottage with possession on the date the builder had stated the house would be completed. So for a couple of weeks we lived in a local motel.

When we moved into the house it was far from complete as we had undertaken to do all the internal decorating. It became clear before we moved in that starlings were going to be a problem trying to nest in parts of the roof and they enjoyed sitting on the apex. After discussion with the builder it was agreed that fishing line should be attached to the finials and stretch a few inches above the apex in the hope this would deter the birds from settling. The house being two storeys we spent the first night in an upstairs bedroom. The house was a considerable distance from any artificial lighting. Levin had much less lighting and the junctions on the highways were unlit, and our nearest neighbour was well over five hundred meters away. That first night was cloudy with no moon and was exceedingly dark. Not long after we had retired for the night and turned out the lights we were both awakened by an eerie wailing rising and falling in a fashion that one associates with ghosts. How could it be that a brand new house was haunted? The wailing increased in intensity as the night progressed. After much speculation we concluded that the sound was coming from the fishing line that had been stretched between the finials on the apex of the roof. The cold night air had tightened the fishing line so any breeze made it sing like a violin. Next day the bird deterrent was duly removed.

When we moved our dog Cassie thoroughly enjoyed the freedom of the open fields with thick bush nearby. Cass became an expert at finding rabbit holes with young in them and she enjoyed eating the very small ones. One year we kept a count of the rabbits we destroyed on Trolling Down and the total came to 295 rabbits from 20 acres. That dog certainly earned her keep. The number of possums removed from the nearby bush was also considerable. When we first moved in other than starlings there was very little other bird life by the time we left due mainly to the council's efforts in eradicating possums our garden had tui, bellbirds and the occasional pigeon

Living in the country soon provided us with stories unheard of in the city. One night with no moon, we were awakened by Cassie barking on the sundeck and the sound of one of the rabbits that we were breeding for eating, squealing. The rabbits were in cages with runs on the lawn so I got up and being summer went downstairs in my short pyjamas to see the cause. Cassie had woken up having been alerted by the rabbits’ squealing and had gone to find the cause. The cause she found out to be a polecat, this she chased and had cornered it behind the downpipe on the sundeck. I had not seen a polecat before it was black with a yellow stripe down each side of its head about the size of a small cat. I went to the garage and returned with an axe with the idea of banging the polecat on the head. As I approached it tried to outrun Cassie who caught it and by tossing it repeatedly in the air killed it.

With polecat dead our attention was now turned to the rabbits. The rabbit screaming had just had a litter of young, all the young had been killed and in the duck run next door five out of the six ducks were dead. My wife picked up the mother rabbit to comfort her and stepped back and fell over a grader blade causing a large gash on her leg which bled. The night was very dark and we only had flash lights, the only light was the faint glow of street lights from Levin and Shannon in the far distance with the dog still barking with excitement and the rabbit continuing to squeal a car with headlights lighting the sky slowed down as it approached our gate, it was one of those rare occasions a police car passed our gate. I buried the polecat and its victims next day

We embarked on a steep learning curve on farming. There are many books on farming but as you try to put into practice what you read it becomes obvious there is an expectation of some prior knowledge so when we tried to apply what we read in many cases it just didn’t work. The first instance was when we tried to dose the cattle. At this stage cattle yards were in the future plans so using the comment in one of the books that cattle generally don’t push against something that they think is solid, a race was built using sacking as walls. Let me assure anybody reading this that sacking walls will not contain cattle.

Came November and the cattle were due to calve and my wife watched with great interest for signs of any of our cows calving. By this time computers had been installed in all Farmer’s stores and all were now on line with a teleprinter type service for instant messaging between stores. On that particular week I was visiting the company’s stores in the South Island. Not knowing which store I would be in and knowing I would be interested in the first calf born on the farm she arranged for the Levin store to send a message to all 75 stores at once. The message read ‘Congratulations, first born has arrived, it is a boy”. Need I say more!!

The bull calves needed to be castrated and the books said an easy method was by way of placing a rubber ring over the testicles and this could be done any time up to six week old. So a day was set aside for this operation and we proceeded to attempt to catch calves that were between five and ten days old. No-one told us that young calves could run like the wind. We had plenty of exercise but caught no calves. The book had no suggestions on how to catch young, lively calves who did not want to be caught, so our first youngsters remained bulls. The following ones were doctored when newly born. This had a consequence quite unknown to us at the time. When the cattle were old enough to be sold to the meat works the cattle buyer was called in and duly inspected the cattle and made the comment “I see you are breeding crypt orchids. No comment was made as we had no idea what a crypt orchid was. When the buyer left the dictionary was consulted. From then on the vet was engaged to castrate the calves.

With the first lot of calves one calf died at birth and we decided to milk the bereaved cow and keep her as a house cow. This was achieved by placing the cow in a stall consisting of part of the fence and an old gate. If you have never milked a cow it is quite difficult and extremely hard work until you achieve the knack. On my travels I had called in at the dairy factory at Hawera and purchased some rennet. When I explained what I hoped to use the rennet for, I was supplied with basic instructions on cheese making. The milk was fabulous and converted into delicious butter and cheese but the down side was we both h started to put on weight fast.

Once one has a piece of land offers are made to give you all manner of animals. We were offered a horse that had been used for general riding by a young lady who was now grown up and just wanted a home for him. We accepted and Chester duly arrived complete with coat and feeding bucket. I had sat on a farm horse about the age of fourteen but nothing since, but we both liked the idea of being able to ride a horse. A bridle and saddle was purchased and with the assistance a Dutchman who had served in the Dutch army prior to the war we both managed to sit on the horse. Chester was not far off a farm horse rather fat and sitting on him was like sitting in an arm chair. To say we rode was an understatement we sat on him and Chester started and stopped when he felt like it... He was very biddable and liked to be groomed and be given peppermints and carrots and generally spoiled. He had to be confined to a small area of a paddock at times to prevent him getting too fat.

During the course of our time at ‘Trolling Down’ we acquired two more horses. One was a very old horse that had been used for many years in eventing competitions and the owner wanted a retirement home for him. Many times the Dutchman who was over eighty and I would saddle up the horses and he would join me for a ride. We would travel to the end of the road and visit the local reserve. The Dutchman sitting bolt upright like a cavalry soldier on parade and I permanently conscious that it was a long way to the ground and it was possible to fall off. I learnt that horses are constantly on the alert and will stop or get startled at any movement and at time see goblins when the rest of the world sees nothing unusual. At other times they ignore things that we humans would expect them to shy at. A trotting horse is quite happy to have a dog running at his feet and takes no notice of fantails fluttering around his hoofs.

Two young goats were found abandoned in the Reserve and we took them home. We had no idea where they had come from and efforts to find the owner was unsuccessful. They were no more than a few days old and had to be bottle fed. One died but the billy survived. A neighbour gave us another goat to keep the billy goat company we were surprised by the affinity between goats and horses. I have seen the goat sheltering under the horse’s tummy during a rain storm, at times the billy goat would sleep on the middle of the horse’s back No doubt these occurrences are quite normal but having lived in a city situation for much of my life each instance was a cause of wonderment

During the first few years we leased the local reserve for grazing. To start with the cattle were left in the reserve over night. On one occasion after a night of heavy rain I went to see them about 9 am the river had overflowed and was crossing the reserve... The cattle were standing on the highest part but to get to the gate it was considerable deeper and flowing fast. Not knowing what to do so I called the cow that had been hand milked. I was extremely thankful that she came with rest of the herd following. In the deepest part the waters were touching her udder. Thereafter the cattle were brought back to the home paddocks before night fall.

New comers to the country expect animals be behave in a certain way but they never do. On one occasion we decided to move the cattle along the road bordering the bush. The bush on the side of the road was quite thick and the expectation was that the very pregnant cattle would stick to the road, they did not. All immediately disappeared into the undergrowth. It took many hours to find them all. The last one we could hear bellowing and when finally we finally found her she was caught up in supplejack with all four feet off the ground. That was the only time we used the road.

Another time cattle with calves had been left over night in the Reserve and when I went to check them out in the morning I found that the youngest calf, less than 48 hours old, was missing. Both of us searched the total area but were unable to find the calf, so I assumed that the calf had been taken over night. Fearing the worst we brought all the cattle back into the confines of the property. The calf’s mother spent most of the next few days standing at the fence calling in the direction of the reserve. Periodically we continued to search but didn’t hold any hopes of finding it. Six days later our neighbour called to say there was a calf in the open area of the reserve. I immediately took the small van down to the reserve and there I found a very small, very dehydrated calf trying to call. It was so weak it could hardly stand. I brought it back to the field to join its mother who recognised it immediately. but its lips were too cracked and swollen to suckle. We milked the cow the house cow, and by massaging the calf’s mouth with milk got it to drink. Its mother licked it and generally tried to care for it. By helping it to feed the calf survived and during the first couple of weeks after it returned to its mother it could be found lying in the a water race that flowed through the field.

Perhaps one of the most eye opening events that distinguish the county from the city was the experience of being offered a bull to be used for breeding by an agent from one of the meat works. To this day I do not know where the bull came from or who owned him. The bull arrived by cattle truck with instructions to advise the truck operator when the animal had completed his work and the truck operator would pick him up. All I did was to pay the carrier.

Another time was when one of our heifers, hurt her back whilst calving. The calf was taken away from the mother and was hand reared. The heifer was lying in one of the top paddocks and we were determined every effort should be made to save the animal. Firstly hay bales were taken and placed around her and during the day a sun umbrella was used to shield her from the heat of the sun. Twice a day the animal was washed and cleaned and then her back was massaged. Also the calf was taken each day to spend time with its mother.

We had been told that if the heifer did not get to her feet within a few days there was no hope as her insides would turn to jelly. The problem of how to get the animal on to her feet had to be addressed and a suggestion was made that the local dairy company might hire us some hip clamps. They were happy to lend us the clamps and suggested where we might get the long iron bar needed to attach to the clamps and a tractor. We rang the owner of the bar and he was quite happy for us to borrow it.

I collected the bar and the hip clamps were fitted to the cow and the bar to the tractor the hydraulic lift on the tractor was activated and instead of lifting the cow the front of the tractor was raised off the ground. Our next door neighbour came to the rescue and loaned us his larger tractor and we managed to lift the cow up. With the pair of us walking one either side of her other we got the animal to walk. We did this for a number of days and one Saturday morning she was able to walk on her own. The calf was brought back and we left them to their own devices. The clamp and the iron bar were returned to their owners who refused offers of payment. We were extremely worried that should the heifer lie down again, as she would during the night, she would not be able to get back up, but in the morning, admittedly with some effort, she did stand, and things got better from then on. She started feeding her calf and raised a very nice daughter.

I don’t know about today, but in 1990 it was possible to buy a sheep at the local cattle market and take it to the local meat works where it would be slaughtered. The Works kept the fleece and the offal, and the carcase could be collected a few days later at no cost. This I did once and it provided wonderful cheap meat.

We occasionally we had one of our cattle slaughtered for our own use. The system was for the beast to be shot in the field, the contractor who did this would skin the animal take the carcase to a local butcher. This service was in exchange for the hide. The butcher would process and package the meat in plastic bags ready for the freezer. One beast would fill an 18cuft freezer with wonderful meat.

It was possible to live very cheaply off the land besides cattle we kept chicken which were free range, spending their day scratching in the pine trees and producing wonderful tasting eggs. Rabbits were kept in cages allowing them to eat fresh grass, one 12 week old rabbit produces 1kilo of meat. The other meat producers were Muscovy ducks these we fed on corn. The young of these ducks cannot swim and cold weather takes a heavy toll. The ducks are excellent fly catchers and spent much of their time chasing flies. Their meat is slightly brown in colour when cooked but is wonderful tasting.

Many ideas seem easy when you read about them or see other people doing the operation. As the tractor had arrived with a two furrow plough I decided to plough a piece of land to grow some potatoes. I set the plough and stated driving forward and the plough just scraped the surface. I reset the plough this caused it dug deep causing the tractor to rise on its back two wheels causing me some panic. I found out that ploughing is not easy and I never got it completely right.

A water race had been constructed in the 1900’s to provide water for stock and it flowed through the property. The previous owner had built a boulder wall with the water flowing along a concrete channel on the top. The channel was cracked in many places and was turning the surrounding land into a bog so an attempt was made to pipe the water though a large plastic pipe that came with instruction on how to join it. We spent many hours trying to join the pipe anybody watching us trying to control the polythene pipe that had a mind of its own must have thought we were practicing to tame pythons. We would join it and would seem O.K. we would stand back and it would flick back and roll up in a coil again.

We knew that a fence was needed to prevent the cattle getting among the pine trees we had planted on the steep bank at the back of the house and having purchased the poles and wire we set about digging the holes, Our efforts with shovels and spades made little impression as the land was more boulder than soil. The next step was to hire a motorized post hole borer. The motor was started and with one on either side holding the handle we started to bore. The auger hit a large boulder and became stuck resulting in the pair of us being flung round like the sparks off a ferris wheel. The post whole driller was abandoned and after talking to the neighbour I purchased the tool necessary to dig post holes which was a six foot metal spike. This was a great help but there is still the problem of clearing the soil from the bottom of a deep hole. This was achieved by scooping out the soil with an old cup. I now know the required tool is a spade with the bottom half of the blade bent at a sixty degree angle.

Having dug the holes and inserted the poles the next job was to attach wire. Wire comes in coils and is held in place with wire twisted round the bundle of wires to keep it in place. I laid the coil on the ground and clipped the restraining wires, the reaction was the wire in the coil sprang and became a tangled mess. The untangling of the wire and attaching it to the poles became a job that took many days. I then learned it was necessary to have a jenny to hold the coil of wire making it possible to run out a strand quite smoothly as required. Every time I pass a fence straddling a hillside I am full of admiration for the skill of fencers.

The water race that ran though the property quickly became clogged with weeds and had to be raked and sprayed with weed killer. I saw at a local sale a brass spray container that had strap that fitted over the operator’s shoulders and with a handle for operating it on one side. I purchased the unit and duly cleaned it and filled it with spray. We quickly realised that the weight of the filled container was going to be a problem. As I am 6ft tall I had to have helped to get the spray pack onto my back. And when I attempted to stand up, my knees buckled. The sprayer was put aside and later sold.

On my trips to the Farmer’s Masterton store I had driven past a South Devon Stud farm just south of Ekahuna and on one occasion I decided to call in to discuss the possibility of running some pure bred cattle. This proved to be a most fortuitous decision. I explained that we had only twenty acres but the breeder thought it was a good idea and said he would help all he could. I agreed to purchase five young three quarter heifers that were in calf to one of his thorough bred bulls. The best part of the agreement was that the breeder would loan us a different bull each year, our part of the bargain was to graze the bull for that year.

After the heifers had given birth he duly arrived with a very large bull in a horse float. South Devon cattle are very docile and great for a newcomer to the rural scene. The bull was called ‘Winston’ and was so quiet that if he happened to be laying down when somebody approached he would not move without some encouragement. After Winston had been with us about a month the breeder’s son arrived with his small daughter, no doubt to see that the expensive bull was being well looked after. We walked into the paddock where “Winston’ was laying down, the small child then aged 5 or 6 ran up to this bull that weighed well over a ton and proceeded to pat him saying “That’s my Winston”. The bull hardly moved taking it in his stride as if it was a normal event.

With pure bred South Devon’s we joined the South Devon Breeders’ organisation to register our offspring and attend their conferences. These were most informative in the attitude of breeders and the interesting personnel who attended. Generally their view of the world is a little remote only dealing with other farmers and meat companies. It came as a great surprise when at one of the conferences a West Country accent was recognised and we discovered that Zealand largest breeder had originated from a village in Gloucestershire close to my in-laws home. We exchanged visits and attended one of his on farm sales with his yearlings fetching very high prices.

A herd of ten breeding cows was of course no more than a hobby, with an occasional beast in the freezer for some wonderful beef and the meeting of many very interesting people. After six or seven years we decided that it was much easier to lease the land which we continued to do until we moved in 2008.

We also had a large vegetable garden a small orchard which produced wonderful tasting products, when you have grown your own fruit and vegetables none other ever comes up to expectation.

The property we farmed in Kimberly Road Levin was next to the Kimberly reserve and Ohau River. The reserve has remnants of bush which provided homes to tui, rosellas, pigeons and bell birds and as the shrubs in the garden grew they made frequent visits and many became a common site. The tui visited the camellias while the bell bird favoured the red flowering currant bushes.

In January 2008 the time had arrived to move on, we had approached a need for a less active life style so we moved into a villa in the Madison retirement village to begin another chapter in our life. I play chess on line with players from around the world thanks to the internet.

Madison is built on a modern concept aimed at allowing one to get the very best out of one’s final years. It is a life style with the security of immediate assistance should it be needed. We purchased the licence to occupy a two bedroom villa in a complex of twenty villas. The cost of the licence is approximately two thirds the price an average house, having sold one's house there is some capital to spend doing those things that have been left undone and have a desire to do. The residential part of the centre caters for personnel who need assistance to live, and a very full activity programme is provided that villagers can join in if they so wish. Each unit has a number of panic buttons that alert the staff of The Madison of your need of assistance. There is small weekly fee to cover council rates, outside insurance and the employment of a caretaker to care of the ground and provide assistance like changing electric light bulbs. To live in a villa is no different to living in your own house but without the concern of maintenance.

We are pleased with our choice and tend to spend little time in the confines of the villa. We have explored most of the roads and byways in the area and have found some extremely interesting places along with the great beaches and excellent parks. We often visit Lake Horowhenua and are amazed at the quantity and diversity of bird life on the lake.

For those who might read this story of a life and read today’s newspapers will see what vast changes have happened in eighty years and wonder what will our world be like at the end of the next eighty.