They said the snow was 3 feet deep that night and so if it was, that would account for my hating the cold for the rest of my life. The date 24th february1931, approx10/10pm.The place,upstairs front bedroom in 103 downderry rd.downham Bromley Kent .The room was probably quite cold(it always was in my latter memory) although there may have been a coal fire in the small grate. Apparently the midwife had difficulty getting there due to the snow(so it probably was deep). Downham then in 1931 was a relatively new estate which had been built so that people could be moved out of the poor parts of London and offered better quality of living. Up till then the area was very rural with some farms dotted around. Our family had moved from Deptford S.E London (No.1 or 2 Rolt St.) where they had been living in what I believe was the upstairs half of a small house with probably two bedrooms and a scullery (kitchen) that was mum dad and Doris Gladys and Ruby, my three sisters, my other sister Grace lived with my Granddad Pead in Bermondsey (more of them later) So their life in Deptford had been very hard with few basic amenities, apparently they had to go downstairs and through the rooms of the flat below to get out to the back yard to the outside toilet and I believe for water. It was a very poor area and this was the reason that the government of the time had to do something to get people out of these almost slum areas, hence most of the people on Downham came from the Bermondsey/Deptford area. My dad (Charles) having lost a leg in the 1914/1918 war on the Somme was discharged from the army and had been given a job and trained as a welder so he was more fortunate than some but I imagine the pay was very poor and I never asked him when I was old enough to about the job or how long he stayed or where it was. According to my sister Doris they had a hard time in Deptford, dad used to go drinking in the pub on the corner of the road and there would be terrible rows between him and mum when he came home and I believe mum received the occasional “black eye” also Doris would get the occasional slap for trying to protect mum, she could have only been about 9 or 10 then. Dad’s parents (Charles and Sarah) lived in the area as well and apparently Sarah didn’t get on with mum and was known to shout and say she would curse her children. There was also the story of when dad actually hit his mum and knocked her to the ground (in the street I believe) but of course, this was Deptford and violence was quite prevalent in those days (not much has changed as I write this except most families behave better I think but the violence has moved onto the streets and people now get mugged or knifed by strangers ) anyway, back to the story so far. So they came to Downham, hoping no doubt for a better, happier life in “the country”. Dad by this time I think was now working at the gas works in old Kent road where he continued till he retired at 66 or 67.during which time I ever only knew him to be off sick once when he had quinsies.He was a tough old guy, but a hard man. I guess he had had it hard all his life. He joined the army under age, probably 17 and that was I expect because there was no work and no prospects. He couldn’t read or write, but learn that in the army, he served in India in the 4th/7th Dragoon guards and I think he must have enjoyed it, he was very proud of his military career then of course he went to France and was wounded. He never said much about that but there is a photo of him in a military hospital somewhere where he is sitting on a bed and appears to be enjoying it all(could have been the nurse attending to him!!) so that hardness stayed with him all through his life. He had an artificial leg and when he was dressed you would hardly know, he walked with a limp but got around well, he travelled from home to the gas work every day Monday to Friday and Saturday morning’s when I got older maybe 15 or so and later in the winter when it was icy or snow he would come and wake me around 6am.apologetically I admit, with a cup of coffee and say “sorry boy” you’ll have to give me a hand down the road.Down the road meant our road to the tram stop in Downham way a distance of approx half to three quarters of a mile, not that far you might think, but at 6 on a cold winters morning walking at snail’s pace with a one legged man on your arm was not my idea of fun but it woke me up I must say. Funny I can’t remember how I got on at school or even work in later years those days, but I guess it didn’t do me any harm. Normally people who lived further down the road would say they could set their clocks by him every morning (his footstep was quite prominent) and at that time in the morning it was quiet, no traffic noise no aeroplane noise just perhaps the occasional milkman’s horse and cart. Yes he was as tough as nails, but looking back as I have been since thinking of writing this, he always treated me alright, don’t remember him ever telling me off and certainly never hit me, but he never had a lot to do with me, I don’t think we ever bonded, after all, he went out at 6.30 am and came home about 6pm,had his tea and was in bed by 830 the latest. In that time there may or may not have been a row with mum, probably over something trivial I was never sure what, so I came to dread the evenings and his homecoming and Saturday was even worse as I knew he would be home about 1pm or sometimes later if he called in at the “Green Man “pub first and in all probability there would be a row sometime during the weekend. I hated the shouting it used to get so bad one of us would go round the house shutting the windows so that the neighbours didn’t hear (a complete waste of time as they all knew what he was like)but when he was out anywhere he was completely different and all the ladies used to say what a lovely man he was. None the more for that he kept that job and carried on travelling up to the gas works all through the air raids during the war 1939/1945.I remember he took me to the cinema twice down at the Splendid a cinema more or less at the bottom of the road. Once to see Meet me in St.Louis with Judy Garland. The other time was to see Colonel Blimp which I think dad expected to be a war film but it wasn’t really and I found utterly boring. I can’t remember ever going to see any other films with him so I hope he will forgive me if I am wrong. There is a vague chance that perhaps we all went to the Lewisham Hippodrome which was a music hall actually in Catford where they had some very good variety acts, but of course this would have been costly and he probably could not afford to take us. In those days most workers were only allowed one week holiday I assume with pay but am not sure on that one so to actually go away on holiday was a thing that was never ever contemplated and something I didn’t even realise happened. We would have a day out somewhere, perhaps Greenwich pier where we could watch the boats on the Thames and sometimes---no—most times we would go in this pub where they had a children’s room unusual for those days but nothing like we have nowadays just a bare room as I recall but they used to have this wonderful pork pie and I had loads of tomato sauce on it, this is all pre war so I was still very young and to me it was holiday. On rare occasions we would all have to be up very early and walk down to the tram stop either Saturday or Sunday and get the tram to Greenwich to get the paddle steamer to South end I think it left Greenwich about 9am.So you can see we had to leave home quite early (remembering dad with the one leg!!) that was always an exciting day apart from all the bags that mum used to bring with egg sandwiches I remember which she had made earlier or the night before and we all seemed to have to carry around for the rest of the day. I have hated having to carry any bags ever since!! It was hardly ever considered to go in a café in those early years once again I suppose because of the cost. I think they probably had the odd glass of guiness though and I guess we must have had a drink of something, that bit is a bit vague, like some of the drinking establishments that I have visited in later life have been. So you see, it wasn’t all bad, we had these days out and I enjoyed them, it was all pre-war (1939/45) and I was still very young. I only seem to remember the sunny days why I don’t know, but I remember days where the lawn was so dry that there were big cracks in the ground and everything was bone dry, this was good for me and Desmond who lived next door because we could play with our toy soldiers and use the cracks as trenches (I’m sure a few disappeared down the crack never to be seen again). By this time I suppose I must have been 6 or 7.The other pastime was flying Desmonds’model aeroplanes that he used to build (he was about three or four years older than me) and very clever(he ended up as a pilot in the New Zealand air force) and he taught me how to build the kits, we used to take them to Forsters park just up the road ,no fear of being attacked or beaten up in those days, in fact all the kids used to go to the park, our biggest fear was of getting caught by the park keeper in the woods that were all round the edge of the park as we were not supposed to go in there so there were often shouts of “look out the parkys’ coming “and everyone would run, such innocent days. My very first memories were of the milk cart I had I must have only been about 2 I am sure no older, it was a little 3 wheeled thing rigged out with imitation milk bottles made of wood and a couple of milk churns of tin. Remember this was how the milkman delivered the milk then except his bottles were glass and the churns were bigger! I used to push it all round the house and as I was learning to talk I must have been listening to conversations and so I was told in later life, picked up a word that obviously sounded easy to say so walked round and round saying buddy buddy, fortunately I had not quite got it right. But my favourite toy when a little older was the car (there is a photo) and apparently the dog I must have spent hours and hours in the garden in that car, it wasn’t very posh but to me it was a limousine it had a door that opened to get in and out and I used to love slamming the door every time I must have known all those years ago that I would spend so many years of my life driving. So looking back I think my very early years were on the whole happy ones and why wouldn’t they be. I probably should have said more about the house(103) it was well built being on one of the “new” estates that had been built and it had the basics like a bathroom with bath with a cold water tap and of course a toilet (no wash basin) to get hot water for the bath there was a boiler known to us as a copper a name probably carried on from the big stone contraptions that used to be used in the scullery where you had to light a fire in a place underneath to boil the water which then had to be scooped out for whatever you wanted it for e.g. Filling the tin bath brought in from the garden for everyone to use or even for washing up or sometimes for boiling the weekly wash in..Anyway we were more modern with our gas heated copper which stood in the corner of the scullery (later to be known in modern times as a kitchen) which after lighting the burner underneath and the water had boiled it had to be pumped up to the bath This was done with the wall mounted pump fixed above the copper, an arm was swung down into the water and the pump handle had to be vigorously swung from side to side, great fun!! The thing was it made quite a lot of noise as it went thump as you pumped and although the houses were quite well built you always knew when the neighbours were going to have a bath. So that was the bathroom, the scullery as we called it as I have said was directly under the bathroom, in it was a stone “butler sink “the sort that nowadays have come back into fashion and people pay a lot of money for. Water was supplied to it by one cold tap. There was a gas oven and opposite the oven was a table but no ordinary table because it was actually a mangle for use on wash day this actually was located under the table but was attached on hinges so it had to be swivelled up for use, I wonder now how a woman was supposed to lift this heavy iron thing, I used to help to lift it when I was older. One last thing in the scullery, a coal cellar!! This was in fact the space under the stairs so not that big, there were planks of wood that would be slotted in place across the doorway and the coalman would come in and tip his coal in, imagine the dust and in the room where all the food was prepared, but I do remember that lovely smell of coal when this was done. So that was the scullery which we would now call the kitchen, but next to the scullery was what we called the kitchen (I don’t know why) this was a room that we “lived” in i.e. there was a dining table and chairs also a sofa and possibly an armchair. There was a big black cast iron fire grate with an oven above it, I never really knew what the idea of this was, it may have been what we now call a bread oven but I believe you were supposed to be able to cook meals in it. I don’t ever remember this being done although I think things were occasionally put in it to keep warm, but the thing is it was always very dirty with the soot from the fire below( the interior of the oven could be taken out to clean which was done frequently to avoid the soot building up and catching fire) but still on occasions the chimney itself used to catch fire which was quite frightening at times if it really got going and if it got too bad the fire brigade would have to be called but fortunately never happened to us. Some people would cause their chimney to catch fire to avoid having to pay for the chimney sweep to call. Cleaning the fire grate out in the morning before you light a fire was a bit of a chore, the fire bricks had to be taken out also various iron pieces before the ashes could be scooped out. After this was done the ironwork had to be “black leaded” this was done with a brush and some black lead similar to shoe polish. Then the hearth had to be whitened with hearthstone, a substance very much like chalk which was put on wet, come to think of it probably was some sort of chalk. So as you can imagine once again plenty of dust flying around again, not to mention when the chimney sweep came to sweep the chimney it was a day’s work when he had gone to try and clean up. The only other room downstairs was the front room which was kept as best and only used on special occasions such as Christmas or when visitors came(not very often that) there was a small fire place in there which was more manageable for cleaning. In this room was a piano where we all at some time had lessons, I remember a teacher coming to give me lessons and I hated it funny I can still remember his name Mr Mould. Any way I didn’t get on at all well with the lessons and I even carried on with them for a while when I was evacuated but more about that period later. When I think about it Mum and Dad didn’t have much money at all but they paid for us all to have piano lessons at some stage in our life but in the end Doll was the only one who could really play which was great when we had parties. So we have done all the rooms downstairs these all lead off a hallway which we never called a hallway it was “the passage “this ran from the front door to the scullery door with the other two rooms off it and just to the left of the front door was the pantry or larder if you were posh this was for storing your food /meat milk etc. remember there was no fridge and the pantry was kept cool by having a vent in the side wall (fine in winter not so good in summer) Upstairs there was the bathroom which I have already mentioned and two bedrooms, one for the girls and one for Mum and Dad and me till I was older when eventually I was given the front room downstairs. So that was inside. Outside there was a big back garden and a small front garden and a side entrance which we used all the time, it was always unlocked as was the back door. Running along the backs of all the houses in our part of downderry were trees, the land there had been a farm (Perrys Farm) but that had gone and eventually in the late 30’s an estate was built but the trees were left and eventually it was made into a walk so you could walk from the shops in downham all the way up to the Downham Tavern near Grove park. That walk has now been extended and at present is known as Green Chain Walk and goes for several miles I believe. There were hundreds of birds there then it was wonderful to hear them and in the mornings, the dawn chorus from the trees on the other side of the road was deafening. Opposite our house was Churchdown school which was for senior boys in one half and senior girls in the other (senior being from 11 years of age to 14) which at the time was the age one left school if you did not obtain a scholarship to go to a grammar school or secondary school, so the majority left at 14 and had to get a job, Doris and Gladys both left at 14 and did shop work, Doris at first in a little "corner shop" thinking back it must have been a fore runner of the corner shops of today except they only sold general stuff like bread cakes sweets etc. Gladys worked in what was then known as "the ham and beef shop" now would be called a "deli". They both progressed on to other shops, Gladys to the co-op and Doris to the United Dairies which as the name implies sold milk, eggs ,cheese etc. they both kept these jobs right up to the war until about 1940 when Doris was called up for military service in the A.T.S which was the women’s part of the army. Gladys was not fit enough for military service and then had to go for a medical to go on war work in a munitions factory but did not pass the medical for that, (she suffered from chronic asthma, so carried on in the co-op. Ruby having left school later as she had been to the downham central school (a grammar school) in today’s terms, got a job as a shorthand typist, which was a bit more "up market". I have early memories of visiting my grandfather’s house (granddad pead) at 93 east lane in Bermondsey, it was a very old house probably Victorian or may have been even older, it was a three story house with a basement which was entered by going down some steps at the front to what was known as the “airy” for which I think the correct name should have been area but had not changed by the local accent. So at the bottom of the steps was a front door which led into the front room and just on the left of the front door in the “airy” was a cupboard which was used for coal, this cupboard was situated under a flight of steps going up to the main front door, this would have been the entrance to the main part of the house in its original days and the basement door would have been used for the servants and tradesmen. Out on the pavement at the bottom of the steps going up there was a round metal cover which would be lifter for the coalman to tip his sacks of coal down into the cupboard. So from the front room in the basement there was a door leading into a passageway with a staircase leading up on the left and a door into what was called the kitchen which was actually just a room with a dining table a bookcase full of very old books with a pair of buffalo horns hanging above it with two guns in their cases so I never got a chance to see what type they were, also there were two armchairs, one was granddad’s the other was a big old leather chair with an animal skin draped over the back, this skin was from a dog that granddad had owned for a number of years and must have loved it a lot to have had it treated so he could keep it, there were a couple of dining chairs and in the corner by granddad’s chair there were some shelves with the wireless on it. This room was actually in the middle of the house and almost below ground level although there was a small window that looked into the next room which was the scullery so there was a bit of indirect light but not really enough to see to do anything by, it did have electric light though which was still quite rare in the thirties especially in this sort of area. I wish I had asked to see those guns and ask about the buffalo horns but I was still quite young and a bit frightened to ask anything like that although looking back I reckon he probably would have been only too pleased to tell me about it but he was quite a serious man who gave the impression that he was not very approachable although as I got older he did try to teach me things like how to saw a piece of wood properly or dig a hole correctly or (dare I say this ,he showed me how rabbits should be killed) Perhaps I will not go into details suffice it to say he had been brought up on a farm and it was a bit gruesome!!He also used to take me out in the garden at night and point out the various stars etc. as he had worked at the Greenwich observatory in his younger days but I must admit I used to say I could see them but most times I couldn’t. Anyway I think I have digressed a bit here so will return to the scullery, this was a fairly large room with a stone floor with a long stone sink and under the sink was a hole which was the drain (no drain pipe) so that was quite smelly then in the corner was a bit stone copper which had a round hole in the top probably 18ins. Dia. Which would have to be filled with water to do the washing and under the copper was a fire box which had to be laid with wood and coal and lit to heat the water. The other side of the scullery was a large walk in pantry which I suppose in the original days was fine but now it was very dirty and there would be cobwebs and dust although tinned stuff was still kept in there, mainly dog food etc.oh yes there was a dog Peggy was her name and I used to love her. Leading out from the scullery and just to the left of the door was the outside lavatory which was the old sort with a long wooden seat with a hole in it, it did have a chain to pull though to flush it but it must have been one of the earlier types of lavatory so I used to try to avoid that if I could. Then from here were some steps up to the back garden which was quite small and was surrounded by a brick wall and the wall at the end was the back wall of some stables where the horses from one of the wharves were kept and at night if you were sleeping in the back bedroom upstairs you would hear them kicking the wall While all this was going on I was still at school. I started at 5 years old at Downers infants just down the road from us and as far as I can remember was quite happy there, then at 7 years old we "went up" to the junior school, which was in the other half of the building. Now things started to get serious, discipline was strict, and one could "get the cane" for the slightest misdemeanour, fortunately I avoided this treat (once by the skin of my teeth for something very trivial not standing still after the whistle had been blown in the playground to assemble us to go back to our classrooms). I just ended up with having to go to the headmaster to have my name put in the book(what was that book)I found out eventually that this book contained all the punishments that you may have received and it went on your final report when you left school.I was only there for a year and war was declared !!So the school was closed and we were all evacuated. I only have vague memories of this part, children of eight really were children and were innocent of the ways of the world, and I think I remember the Grownups talking but none of it meant anything to me. So the next thing I know we were put on coaches outside the school. I guess mum came to see me off as there were people around but perhaps she didn’t, she may have been too upset. The coach took us to Grove Park rail station where we were put on a train, I have no real memory of this next journey or who the other children in the carriage were but I guess I must have known some of them. How strange this is. I have no memory of the train journey really, I suppose I had not as far as I can remember been on a proper train ride before. (The only train I knew was the one on Southend pier which we went on when we went for our day trip there)It seems strange looking back that we didn’t question what was going on or where we were going, I don’t remember many children crying if any. There may have been one or two when we were being put on the coach outside the school if their mothers had come to see them off. So we arrived at our destination, which is all a bit vague and of course we had no idea where we were, and it would not have made any difference if they had told us, as I know I wouldn’t have been any the wiser and probably nor would any of the other kids, as I have probably said already, at 8 years old we were very naive and not at all aware of places, people didn’t travel around then as they do now, not even in our own country, so if they had said we are in Folkestone(which we were!!)We wouldn’t have had a clue. So here we were on the south coast of England with France just 21 miles across the channel, in fact while we were there we used to get taken down to the beach and the coast of France would be pointed out to us, remember a lot of work going on behind us further up the beach, lots of trucks and cement lorries etc. This of course was the fortifications being built in case of an invasion but we were blissfully unaware of all this. We were finally taken by a couple (Mr. & Mrs.Croucher) who to me appeared to be very old although Mr. was still working so I suppose he was below retirement age, he worked for the southern railway whose trains ran right on to the pier, I think one was the boat train to connect to the ferry for France etc. Their house actually backed on to the railway station so we could here when the trains came in the porters calling out the station name “Folkestone junction” next stops Dover. I would imagine this practice would have stopped as the war got going as all place names were removed from signs etc. to confuse the enemy should they land here so I am sure the porters wouldn’t be allowed to tell them where they were. Anyway it was quite nice to hear all this going on, so different from home. There was another boy billeted with me who I hadn't met till then although he was probably from my school his name was Brian Walker, we got on quite well but he did have a vivid imagination and would tell me at night when we were in bed about all these toy soldiers that he had that could walk and talk, quite convincing he was sometimes! My short stay with the Crouches at 23 Stuart Rd. was not a happy one, they were strict churchgoers so it was church Sunday morning Sunday school, and church Sunday evening. This to me who had never been to church in my life or Sunday school was all a bit too much, also we were not allowed to play on Sunday I can remember walking down the stairs one morning and was whistling and was promptly told to stop it at once as it was sunday,actually thinking back I think it was more the old woman who was the real dragon, her husband was much nicer and I am sure would not have been so hard in fact he did spend more time with us ,he even started teaching us first aid as he was in the St. Johns ambulance, and some of that which he taught us I still remember. But he did take us to have our hair cut once and asked for a “short back and sides" which to those of you who don’t know, is a very short haircut and at the time I had a mop of curly hair, and so did Brian now I come to think of it. When mum came down to see me she was very annoyed about it. We did start to go to a school after a while which was 2 miles away I think it was at Cheriton and all I remember of the building that looked to me as if it was made of glass it had these enormous windows, not the sort of place to be as the war progressed and the bombing and shelling started. I don't know how long we went to that school, only that we usually had to walk at least one way there or back or sometimes perhaps both ways. Having said that, I don’t remember actually being in school there but I obviously was there, it’s strange how some things stay in your memory and others are completely forgotten. One thing I do remember is that before I went to Folkestone I used to have piano lessons at home and sometimes at the teacher’s house, quite remarkable really considering that the lessons must have been relatively expensive considering that my parents did not have much money and we all had lessons at one time or another, they obviously thought it would be good for us in later life (actually Doris was the only one who could really play the piano when she was older) which came in very handy at the many parties that we had!!! Anyway getting back to Folkestone, the piano lessons continued, I guess Mum must have arranged it, I remember going to the piano teacher’s house and that he seemed ok and quite kind, he had an oil heater in his front room and used to tell me to warm my hands over the top which was good (I still suffer from cold hands now!) Next door in Stuart rd. lived a what I now suppose were a young couple who were very nice(if only we had been billeted with them things might have been so different), but anyway the young man worked for southern railway driving a delivery lorry, a strange looking thing what we would now call an articulated lorry, but this one’s cab had only three wheels as was quite common in those days, they were actually called a mechanical horse. and a few times he took me out in it while he was doing his deliveries, this I really enjoyed. I wonder if that had any influence on my later life when I spent so much time driving around on my job! I often wonder what happened to him as he was old enough to be called up for military service, did he live through the war and what about his wife and did they have a family, all questions that can never be answered now. On that note I think I will leave Folkestone, if I think of anything else I will put it in later. I think what happened was that I was so unhappy there that I wrote a letter home (amazing that I was allowed to do that) but I suppose they thought I should just write home and say I was ok, but actually I said I wasn’t and I think I must have been surprised that Mrs Croucher didn’t read it first before posting it. So the next thing I know was mum arriving to take me home, she apparently went to see Brian’s parents first to tell them what she was going to do and they must have decided to ask her to bring Brian with me. There was at that time a coach service that ran from Lewisham to the Kent coast called East Kent Coaches, and this is how we went home. That was exciting because as we got nearer to London it was dark and the blackout was now in force and all we could see on the traffic lights as each light came on instead of the whole light there was just a small cross of light what a funny thing to remember. I often wondered when I was older why Brian came home as I met him when I was about sixteen on my way to work one day and he told me he had been back to see the Crouchers, he seemed to like them. So I am now back home, but how strange it was, the streets were so quiet and at first I couldn’t understand why then I realised or was told, most of the children were still evacuated there were only a few around. All the schools were closed but there were a couple of people who started lessons in their houses how long this went on I don’t remember. Everything was ok so far, we were in what was known as the phoney war i.e. nothing was happening in England so life was just as usual apart from schools and cinema’s closed. Gradually people got used to this and suddenly more children were being brought home and so some schools had to be opened and I found myself having to go to Churchdown. School which was actually in churchdown rd. but one entrance was exactly opposite our house so that was good. All my previous fears of this school from my early preschool days when we would be in the front garden while mum was probably talking to Mrs. Tate next door and we would hear the yells and screams of the boys being caned in the school were quickly put aside as all the original teachers had gone and we had what I suppose were make-shift or temporary teachers so discipline was gone but that did not mean we miss-behaved it just did not occur to us. We were only using a couple of classrooms downstairs and I think one had been converted to an air raid shelter which we did spend some time in when there was an air raid. The rest of the school had been taken over for use by the auxiliary fire service which I think may have been part time people drafted in to back up the proper fire brigade. I don’t know how long I was there, it is now too long ago to even guess and it means nothing at nine years old does it. So schooling carried on after a fashion and we used to go home for lunch, me being the most fortunate living just across the road. One lunch time we left at 12.30 and I was home when the air raid siren started so I ran into the garden to look for the raiders or to listen if they were coming, then called to mum quick here they come, she was preparing something for our lunch so I ran and got in to the Anderson shelter (will talk about that later)mum came running down the garden and just managed to get halfway into the shelter when there was an almighty bang and she came in quicker than intended, I managed to get the wooden door across the entrance to the shelter and there we stayed till we heard the all clear sounding. When we removed the door we could see nothing, it was just like a thick fog, then we realised it was dust but so thick we could not see our house from where we were at the end of the garden, we naturally thought it had be bombed, but as it cleared we could see it was still standing but with no windows and not much roof and inside there was mess everywhere ceilings were down and things broken, we had a rather nice dining table in the front room which had been showered with glass but I don’t know if it had had a cover on because it didn’t seem to be scratched but several years later I found a piece of shrapnel from the bomb embedded in the edge of the table I wish now I had dug it out it would have made a good talking point (or not) The bomb had actually fallen on the school at 12.40 just ten minutes from us going home for dinner so we were lucky, and of course there was no more school for a while. One of the firemen were killed I seem to remember it was the chief and I think there were about twenty two injured, strangely enough there was not much information given and on reflection I wonder if any of the teachers were hurt. That part of the school remained in that ruined condition till after the war when it was re built, I wonder if the children that attend there now know of the disaster that happened in that part of the building. So it was change schools again, this time to Rangefield Rd. school which was quite a walk about a mile and a half I would think plus the fact we used to get air raid warnings at odd times although I think most of the raids at that time were night time ones. Life at Rangefield was quite good, they got us in to dig for victory which was really to show us how we could grow our own vegetables on an allotment which we had been allowed to run on the playing fields opposite the school, I remember us trying to dig the ground which at the time was rock hard with frost, I don’t remember actually getting round to planting anything or how far the project got but it did get me interested in gardening. The lessons got a bit more serious now and we actually started to learn something again I quite liked spelling and mental arithmetic and I suppose I did do quite well as I did end up passing a trade scholarship exam, must have not got my eleven plus before that don’t know quite what happened there perhaps the two were combined and you either got one or the other. I had a couple of good mates there, one was Roy the other George and we all used to walk to and from school together. On the route we had to cross Downham way –a main road with houses on each side just as it is today which was ok and nowhere near as busy as it is now-and on the other side of the road in one of the houses a man used to sell us sweets, we used to just knock at his door and he would have them just inside in his hallway, nothing too brilliant as sweet rationing was on so I don’t know where he got them and they were only a penny or so, we used to get liquorice sticks(the stuff that looks like twigs of wood) and sherbet bags etc. Can you imagine now what would happen!!he would probably be arrested for enticing children in to his house and all the health and safety issues we have now but he was quite harmless and things like that were not even Thought of. Perhaps there were dodgy people around but we were not aware of it, sometimes it would be said there was a nasty man in the park where we used to go and play but we never saw him and didn’t worry about it. It was about this time that we were getting to notice things around about—such as girls! But we were still very young and innocent so it was just looking and wondering about them I suppose we could have been about eleven years old by now. The other thing we thought we ought to try was smoking. Now this was a bit difficult as we had no money so couldn’t buy cigarettes but I came up with this ingenious plan---my dad used to smoke woodbines, they were a cheap cigarette that was probably introduced during the first war, and he used to leave his opened packet on top of the wireless(radio) when he went to work and some times in the packet would be one that he had started to smoke and then put out obviously to finish off when he came home, they were in short supply so they wouldn’t be thrown away .So I would take this “dog end” and Roy and I would pretend we were playing in the air raid shelter and smoke this horrible tasting thing, now the thing is my dad never said anything ,he must have wondered where his fags were going and I reckon he realised but as he had been smoking from a very early age he thought he would let me get away with it. So that was our first taste of smoking and not very pleasant was it. On one of our lunchtime walks home from school (it was January 1943 and I think it was the 20th) as we got to the bottom of Downderry Rd. we heard these aircraft approaching and they seemed to be quite low so of course all the children were looking up and trying to identify them (all the boys were experts at this –or as we thought!) and were shouting” spitfire- hurricane” etc. Etc.then as they came into view we realised we were all wrong---they were Focke-Wulf FW190’s (This we found out later when details of the raid were disclosed) and they started to machine gun the streets!! Each of these aircraft carried a bomb, we ran for cover as best we could and they soon passed over, we heard afterwards that some children were hit but they were rumours that to my knowledge were never proved. But those planes or at least one of them went on to drop a bomb on a school in Catford where many children were killed which caused a big outcry against the German pilot as it was said he must have known it was a school. I think it was on that same raid and by the same planes that they dropped a bomb in Oakshade rd.just round the corner from our house and our next door neighbour’s daughter lived at No.12 which was the house that received a direct hit and the mother Helen Smith (who was visiting at the time) plus her daughter and granddaughter were all killed. Apparently there was not much left and of what was found I will not go into detail, we were all very upset .in all six people were killed, I remember Mr. Bowles who lived next door but one at No.99 and was a policeman telling my dad how he had found Helen’s remains but then they must have realised I was listening and so the conversation stopped. Eventually life carried on as it does at such times and the air raids carried on. We spent a lot of time in and out of the air raid shelter day and night, sometimes we would all be in bed and the siren would sound (this is a noise that even now if I hear it in a film still gives me that feeling inside that sort of churns the stomach) and we would quickly get up and sort of throw some warm clothes on and trot down the garden into the shelter and if you were lucky and the weather had been good and no rain the shelter would not have several inches of water in it. There we would sit and listen to the raid the planes droning overhead (the German planes had a sort of throbbing sound quite unlike our own) so you waited and hoped they would fly over, a bit selfish really because you knew they would drop their bombs sooner or later but you just hoped it wouldn’t be on you. It was all very noisy and quite spectacular in its way but very frightening, the sky would be lit up with searchlights and the anti aircraft guns would be firing then perhaps you would hear a bomb coming down, they had this loud whistling sound then the explosion when it landed and if it was fairly close the ground would vibrate and sometimes the whole shelter seemed to lift, sometimes dad would stand outside and mutter a few curses at the planes but it was dangerous to be outside because there was shrapnel falling all the time from the anti aircraft shells that were bursting overhead. Next morning on our way to school we would see how many pieces of shrapnel we could collect, sometimes if you were really lucky you might find a shell cap which was the pointed bit on the end of the shell that was a real trophy. So it went on, the shelter was improved, he council I assume concreted the inside and floor of the shelter to stop the water seeping in and this did work quite well but if it was not used for a while the water still got in and so we had to bail it out again. After a while, can’t say how long- people got fed up with the shelters although by now some people had made them quite comfy with bunk beds and carpet, well it helped to keep the floor dry!! And we had an oil lamp and flasks of tea or coffee but we didn’t get much sleep with all the noise then as the planes moved off and the guns stopped firing (a bit like a storm receding) you might start to doze off and the” all clear “siren would go so up you got and back indoors and in to bed if it wasn’t time for breakfast and get ready for school. After some time we and many others decided to take a chance and stay indoors during the raids, and while this was slightly more comfortable- sleeping on the floor on a mattress and sometimes under the table! It was still frightening. There were stories that if you had a strong table it would withstand the weight of the house if it came down! I somehow think we didn’t have such a table but we used it anyway- the other safer place was in the cupboard under the stairs but ours had coal in it (as previously mentioned).The noise of the raids was sometimes very loud with the drone of the German bombers overhead, they had a distinctive throb of their engines and were easily recognised as opposed to English ones that had an entirely different sound, and when they were overhead you just waited and then you would here the scream of a bomb coming down and then you waited for the crash when it exploded, and if it was close the house would shake and almost feel as if it moved but at least you knew you were still alive this time. While this was happening the anti aircraft guns would be firing so there was that noise and the shells exploding in the air and the shrapnel from that falling around and clattering on the ground. Sometimes a mobile ack ack gun would come round the streets and I think one stationed in the school across the road, but of course we wouldn’t know this as we were in the back room(called the kitchen) and dad had got a big piece of plywood that fitted over the window at night which not only served as a blackout instead of the normal blackout curtain it also protected us from flying glass if the windows should get blown in if there should be an explosion nearby and so we did not go into the front room which had no blackout and nothing on the windows for protection. I often wondered where dad got that piece of plywood from as the window was quite large and it would have had to be delivered by some means, anyway I’ll never know now. I may not have got the sequence of events right, but this I will try and check on later and amend, as I have been talking about the blitz which was the heavy bombing of London and surrounding areas, but I think the start was the bombing of the London docks when they were all set alight. We on that occasion were in the air raid shelter and it was a Saturday and all we could see from our garden was a terrific orange glow in the sky, and remember we were about ten miles away from the nearest docks(surrey docks)We didn’t know what was happening right away and didn’t find out till much later as news took a long time to filter through—news about such things was not broadcast for obvious reasons—so as not to alarm the population also not to let the enemy know how much damage they had done. Doris and Gladys were out that day and we were very worried as they did not come home till I think the next morning as all the transport was disrupted(I don’t know where they had been but I am sure there was a logical excuse!) So it carried on and we carried on and more or less took it in our stride till eventually the raids eased off and we got back to some sort of “normal” life. I almost forgot to mention that mum and I would go to see granddad and Grace at Bermondsey and sometimes, if an air raid warning sounded we would all go to take shelter in the wharf just up the road in east lane, not only us but several of the neighbours as well, this was always at night as the wharf was being used during the day, it stored grain/corn/wheat etc.(very handy for feeding my rabbits) why everyone thought they would be safer in the wharf with the Thames right outside as this was obviously the bombers targets but we stayed there and tried to sleep with the clatter of the raid going on we laid on sacks and hoped the rats and mice didn’t run over us(they never did) but I used to look out of the window and watch the tracer shells being fired up at the aircraft from boats on the river, also one of the wharfs got hit on the other side and we watched the fire boats trying to put out the fire. I expect people now will disbelieve this as it does seem a strange thing to do, but I think that the people who came with us were ordinary folk and I think they looked up to Granddad as he was the foreman and caretaker of the wharf and I suppose they thought if he said it would be safe then it would be, I think the logic was that the wharf being three or four stories high, if a bomb hit it wouldn’t come right down t I started writing this some time ago, maybe a year or two and now we are in the year 2009 and the date today is the 1st of September and we are being reminded that it was 70 years ago this week (the 3rd) that war was declared, and this week Max has just had his 7th birthday and so is just about a year younger than I was then, it is impossible to imagine what life has in store for him and children of his age and how will the world change? One can only hope and pray it will be a better world. So there was still school and we actually managed to learn a bit and some of it must have sunk in as when the exams came along—the main one being the 11pus which if you passed let you go to a grammar school, well I didn’t get that one but then there was another exam which much to my surprise I passed and was awarded a trade scholarship which meant (obviously) that I had a chance to go to a technical school to learn a trade. So, what did I want to do? We were sent the application forms and a list of trades and schools, this was not much help really as I don’t think I had really thought what I wanted to do when I left school and after all I was not even 13 years old yet it was 1943 and all I wanted to do was to be old enough to join the Royal air force and be an air gunner. Anyway we read through these papers and all the different trades, some of which I had never heard of and I am sorry to say mum and dad were not much help either. Eventually it was decided “engineering and allied trades” sounded worthwhile although the only reference to allies was the countries that were on our side in the war so that didn’t help, anyway engineering was decided upon and the school was south east London technical institute to give it its full name, later called junior technical school and now called I think-Lewisham college. This meant a tram journey from Downham way to Lewisham and by now we were having “doodle bugs” (flying bombs) but off we went to start at the tech. We were all assembled in the hall and our names were called out and we were allocated to a form (class) and straight away I and the two boys I had gone with were separated and put into different forms so it meant making new friends. First thing that happened was that we only had our practical lessons in the tech,for all our other lessons (maths etc.) we had to walk up the road to another school which was empty as the children from there had been evacuated, it was some “high school” I think it was Brockley county school not sure now it was a fairly old building on 3 floors and the building was on the top of a hill which is called Hilly Fields, and it’s between Lewisham and Brockley.quite a nice location especially in the winter because there were a lot of bombed houses all around so we would scavenge these buildings and get old doors and pieces of wood and metal and we had great times using them all as toboggans, and on one or two occasions the dinner hour over ran and when we finally decided to go back in to school and were asked where we had been we gave the only answer possible, we had been out sledging to which the teacher muttered something about being reported to the headmaster but nothing more was done. By this time I think the V2 rockets were being sent over so you didn’t know when or where they were coming you would just hear an explosion, hopefully not too near so you knew you were ok once again so I suppose that’s why there was no discipline. This was our first year and I seemed to be doing quite well in algebra and geometry, but then I think there must have been a break possibly the raids got worse or something and I think I missed some schooling, I don’t really remember. But anyway year 1 came and went and then we were in the second form (form2d) and a change of teachers, and things started to get harder. Now I can’t remember exactly when it started to change ,I had a pal in that first form he was a bit of a rebel and now as I write this he was doing things that the boys do now so I wish I could tell them ”nothing is new” he didn’t do anything bad just tying a big knot in his tie or not wearing his blazer and would come to school in some fancy jacket that was the fashion then, he had an older brother where he used to get these ideas from, he lived at New Cross which we would have considered a bit rough but we used to get along fine, I think he must have left at the end of the first year as I don’t remember him after that. One thing I remember he had a blue and white check shirt which I really liked but there was no chance I would get one as mum had paid out a lot of money on my school uniform which not only included blazer and trousers, white shirt a rather nice maroon coloured tie and of course the inevitable P.E kit also carpenter’s apron and engineer’s boiler suit, so there was no money left for luxuries like fancy shirts. Actually even now when I see a check shirt I want to buy it and in fact have one at the moment but not exactly like my pal had. I guess that’s what started my liking for nice shirts and now after all those years I have Tracy who buys them for birthdays and Christmas. There was a lot of “high jinks” while we at Hilly fields apart from the sledging in the winter, in the playground there was a fuselage of an old aircraft (a tiger moth) it had no wings and in the cockpit there were no instruments, we were told not to climb on/or in it but of course we did. Most schools in those days had a cadet force and our one was the A.T.C (air training corps) and I suppose they used this” plane” for some sort of training, I don’t know because I did not join the Tacit was an after school activity but that wasn’t the reason, actually I don’t know why, probably got talked out of it at home. I think this was a bad move as the teacher in charge of the corps who held the rank of commanding officer was the teacher who took us for geometry and trigonometry and obviously favoured the boys from his squadron so when it came to lessons and if you were a bit slow in understanding (that’s me!)he would intimidate you, we all called him Big Bill—a giant of a man with a voice to match who could make you feel so stupid in front of the class, actually he would never have got away with it now so that’s one improvement in the education system that I do approve of because the more he ridiculed you the worse it got and he never tried to help. Much later when I was in my 20’s I decided to do a city and guilds course and had to go to Lewisham tech to do it in evening classes and I remember when I was walking along one of the corridors I heard this booming voice---yes he was still there but fortunately not teaching us, I think I would have cancelled the course as I am sure I would have crossed swords with him now that I was older. Anyway getting back to the plane in the playground, to cut a long story short---someone set it alight one night! And I don’t think they ever found out who did it---no it was not me. So school was not fun anymore, my trig and geometry went downhill also my algebra which was taught by a bloke with the nick name of Tarzan, mainly I think because he looked and walked like an ape and who happened obviously to be friendly with big bill(they were like a double act)so no help there. So second year came and went but the teachers stayed the same apart from a teacher they brought in to teach R E and English but he was a bit of a Wally and so we played him up. One day he had left his case on his desk and one of the boys who was in the desk in front of me filled it up with potatoes he must have somehow got from the kitchen I don’t know. That caused a bit of a stir and the headmaster was involved but I don’t think they ever found out who did it. The boy was always full of fun when he was there which was not very often as he seemed to always be off with a broken arm or leg, probably these days he would be diagnosed with brittle bone syndrome. I got sent out of the class a couple of times for something and once it was when we were doing Shakespeare and I had to go to the headmaster and when he asked for an explanation I said I didn’t see what learning about Shakespeare had to do with engineering, he didn’t answer that----he had a twitch in his eye and you could never be sure if it was the twitch or if he was winking at you so nothing else happened about it. So now we were in the second year and we stopped using hilly fields school and used a school in Deptford just off brookmill rd which was actually behind St.Johns railway station so only a short walk from the Tech itself so we still went up to there for practical work and some other lessons, this was good as we used to go out lunch times and walk down towards New Cross but only probably a half mile or so and there was this little dingy shop, I suppose it was a sweet shop or probably had been before the war and sweet rationing came in, anyway we used to go in and the owner, remember his name was Mr Mann used to serve these drinks and you could get “penny red or penny yellow and possibly other colours and these were dispensed by him pouring the coloured liquid into a glass and then inserting a tube from a large cylinder something like an oxygen cylinder plus there was a smaller one containing some other gas, this made the drink fizzy. We all survived this so I guess it was harmless! Now the roof of the Tech. was laid out as a sort of playground with a high chain link fence all round and of course it was divided in half by another fence, this was to separate the boys from the girls, I don’t think I have mentioned that girls used the Tech for cookery and dressmaking, and inside the school it was the same but of course no fence, the building was a square so there were corridors going all round the four sides with classrooms off each corridor and the rule was that one half of the square was boys and the other for girls and we were forbidden to enter. So we obeyed the rules because that’s what you did in those days, but it didn’t stop us going to the part of the corridor where the two halves met so it was possible to talk or call to each other and so at 14 years old I met my first girl friend, I think there was a bit of match making went on with her friends and mine so the actual arranging of the first date is a bit vague now but the date happened and continued for several more, sometimes (quite a few actually) we went to the pictures or the cinema as it is more commonly known now, other times we just went for a walk. She lived at Crofton Park so quite a long way from me at Downham and of course we didn’t have phones then not even at home so arranging to meet was difficult and all had to be done at school time but we managed. It was possible to walk from Lewisham to Crofton Park over Hilly Fields the place where we used to go sledging so that place has some happy memories, maybe I will go over that way some day and have a look,(or maybe not) Doreen Jackson was her name I guess you never forget the first one. Unfortunately it all came to an end one day after we had been to a fair that had come to Bellingham( near Catford) and a girl who worked with Gladys saw me with my arm round Doreen, she told Gladys who then immediately told mum who went through the roof when I came home from school, you would have thought I had done some terrible deed and she started ranting off about how wrong it was and that was how I could catch some terrible disease, completely over the top and I can’t understand to this day why she reacted in such a way and thinking back I am sure dad never heard anything about it as he never said anything, a pity in a way as he may have been a bit more understanding perhaps, although he was never much in agreement with Doris and Gladys when they wanted to get married ,but I think my case was slightly different. Anyway the” romance” continued for a while bit with difficulty as I was always having to explain where I was going etc. but the silly thing is that it was only one of those young teenage things that would have ended eventually. I was disappointed with Gladys who had always been the one who would spoil me and buy me things and really treat me well, so why she decided to do this I will never know. So looking back that was the only instruction I was ever to get on the facts of life!! Unbelievable .I suppose I must have been nearly 15 by now and we carried on seeing each other but eventually it all meant were a couple dead. School life dragged on and the girlfriend left as she was just a few months older, so life got back to knocking around with my two pals Dennis Etherton and George Terry. Then Dennis left as he really wanted to go to art school which he did (Camberwell school of art) George stayed on, he was in a different form to me (they were the next intake after ours by a few months) and actually would have been a better form for me to be in as they were all around my age whereas I was the youngest in my form. Now George was a bit of a rebel and not actually a “tearaway” but just a bit boisterous, he also had the same colour hair as myself, auburn or ginger as it was commonly called and we always addressed each other by the name “ginge” I think I read in the paper a little while ago that someone had objected to being called ginger and said it was discriminating! how crazy this world is now, I was called all sorts of things and took it all for granted, my granddad Pead called me” copper nob” and in junior school you would here the call “ginger you’re barmy” but no offence was meant (I think !)but it was usually ginger or ginge and sometimes “carrot top” which carried on into my teens and beyond and changed for a while when I was doing national service and was stationed on Manston aerodrome for a while with the U.S air force and then of course I was known as “red” which I quite liked. But I digress, people used to get George and me mixed up so that on a couple of occasions at school I got the blame for George’s pranks even though he wore glasses and I didn’t but we both had the same colour hair and that was enough. I got called in to the headmaster once for throwing a fire work over the fence at the girls on the roof playground, of course it was no good denying it and wouldn’t do to grass on my mate and anyway I don’t remember any bad punishment. There were a couple of other times we were mistakenly identified but the actual details escape me so it’s probably best forgotten. So we kept in touch with Dennis and out of school times we met up and usually went to the pictures (cinema) and most times the Splendid which was the cinema that was on Bromley road near the shops, there is now a petrol station in its place. It was quite a modern cinema for its day, I don’t think it was very old, I can remember being taken there when I was probably only about 5years old to see the wizard of oz the original film with Judy Garland by Mrs. Raper who lived at 107 I don’t think Mum ever took us to the pictures. So we would go off to the pics. Dennis having persuaded his mum to give him 5 weights which were the cheapest cigarettes you could get (his dad was still in the army somewhere at this time not that he would have objected I am sure even if we were still only 14.George used to always have Abdulla No7 cigarettes which were a sort of Turkish and used to stink the place out which of course I think George being George was why he smoked them. Sometimes we would end up at Dennis’s house and have tea which was just a cup of tea and sandwich which his mum would make which I found quite strange as the bread was cut like doorsteps but she did her best as I suppose she didn’t have much money with her husband still in the army, she may have had a little part time job but I don’t remember. Other times we would end up at my house 103 where we would mess around in the garden occasionally with the boxing gloves on. George usually came off worse as he wasn’t really into boxing and I wasn’t much better but did have a bit better idea as dad had tried to teach me a bit but never continued it, whether that was his fault or mine I don’t know, pity really. While on the subject of my two pals I should mention the parties although they mostly came a year or two later but Dennis was always interested in acting and singing and quite a good voice I also used to like to sing and we would try to imitate the singers of the day like Bing Crosby, Frank Sinatra etc. and would do duets or solos. George was a good pianist and used to play”Boogie Woogie” you will have to look that one up as I can’t possibly explain it in words but it was really good and how I regret now and did then that I had not continued my piano lessons although I did manage it one handed but it didn’t quite work so well. So when the parties came along we had quite a good time, more of that later. Funnily enough girls were not top of the agenda although we were always interested and always trying to chat them up if the opportunity arose, Dennis did invite three from school for tea at his house, he was still at the tech. with me then and I think it must have been his birthday. Why he invited three when there was just him and I to entertain them I will never know but it went ok, his mum laid on a sort of tea the best she could, remember this was wartime and rationing was on so there was not a lot of fancy stuff but we enjoyed it. I remember that day when I was just getting ready to walk up to his house and as I was about to leave our house mum said “don’t get making any arrangements now” it took a while to work out what she meant but then I fell in, she meant don’t go making any dates with the girls (this must have been after the Doreen episode) she needn’t have bothered because neither of us did although we walked them all home and took it in turns kissing them goodnight, all in the porch way of one of the girl’s but as there were three we kept forgetting which one was next so it went on for a while. It was all quite innocent and I think how differently 14 year olds act now, it would never have entered our heads to behave as they do. So eventually Dennis went off to Camberwell art school and I carried on at the tech hating it more every day. Looking back I suppose I wasted a lot of my time going to the pictures( sometimes even bunking off school in the afternoon) I suppose I should have studied more but I don’t know who was to blame, the teachers were not too bothered and as I have said, if you were a bit behind with your work did not encourage you in fact would “put you down ”in front of the class and I suppose there was always the feeling of everyone being aware of the situation that no one knew if a V2 rocket was going to come hurtling out of the sky. Mum used to sign my report book which we had to take home at the end of term, I don’t think dad ever saw it or ever knew of its existence, as I think I have mentioned already he was not well educated and so didn’t take much interest in that sort of thing, mum however had had quite a good education and went to St.Olaves school which was in her days near Tower bridge. It is now a boy’s school situated at Orpington, and come to think of it I believe they now take girls as well. So, whose fault was it? Really I should not blame anyone only I or perhaps Hitler, if there had not been war things would probably have been different