Wednesday 31 October 2012

Chapter 9 WW2 to the Immediate Post War


Chapter 9
WW2. To the Immediate 'Post War'
AT SCHOOL
    Some aspects of how my life was at school, or what I can still remember of it, have already been covered in respect of the war itself, and as it may have effected school life, but I thought it pertinent to enlarge on school, and how leisure life was, at that time.
    I remember very little of the Russell House School (Kemsing), on the Pilgrim's Way, which had recently moved from "Cleves" (Now the Youth Hostel in Kemsing) to a house which was situated at the bottom of the 'Chase'.  The Chase was then a close/cul-du-sac, off the Pilgrims Way . The Head Teacher was a Mrs Russell. Her son was at the school. I remember that he threw a cushion at me, so I fairly naturally threw it back at him. He complained to his mother, and I got a severe reprimand from Mrs Russell who would not accept my side of the story.
    We had some play/activities on the lawn in the back garden of the school, and strangely, I remember that the fence was of the lattice, split-chestnut pole variety. The garden backed out, and stuck into the '100 Acre' field, which, providing i hadn't got a crop on it, and it was dry, we would walk across to get-and-from home.  Sometimes we would catch the bus, but it was hardly worth it as the bus then ran along the Pilgrim's Way, and the nearest stop was some distance away, at the top of our road (Childsbridge Lane). The West End had not been widended then, and the buses went along the 'top' (Pilgrim's Way), turning down into the village via the Landway.  Not down Childsbridge Lane, and then go along the West End, that was done later.
     Why I mention this, is because, we children did sometimes travel on the bus, probably, because it would have been quite a long walk; if the 100 acre field in front of our house was planted, or ploughed.  That being so, we would then have had to go round it, roughly three sides of a large rectangle, to reach the school; as opposed to going directly straight across the the field.  On the bus (NÂș. 421), sitting near the front was 'Tita' Norman, the daughter of Brigadier Norman, from St. Clere (And I believe; niece of Lord Montaqu Norman - the then Manager of the Bank of England).  She was a particularly boisterous individual, a bit of a 'Tom-boy'. She had a strange habit of pulling out strands of her long blond hair, and depositing it on people (Generally other school children).  One morning a lady passenger on the bus gave 'Tita' (I'm not sure of the spelling) a severe telling off. Tita did not seem to be the least put out (As I am sure I would have been), and she responded in a loud clear, and confident voice, which could be heard throughout the bus:- "Huh! I'm glad my Mummy isn't like you!".  This seemed to stop the surprised woman in her tracks, and left her speechless.  I was impressed!
   How old we were then, I don't know; I guess it was before I went to Sevenoaks Preparitory School,
At the 'Prep' (Preparatory School) we had to wear a uniform, which must have made life difficult for my Mother, and no doubt other parents too.  We wore a woolly grey shirt, school tie, grey home knitted socks, a grey blazer with the school badge on the breast pocket, and the school cap.  The uniform was obtained from the small outfitters shop at the top of the High Street in Sevenoaks, called Hardcastles.
    I remember the first day at the Prep school only too well. A group of Prefects rounded up the 'New-boys', and we were roughly ushered into the front basement room.  There we were ordered to drop our trousers and pants.  I remember that I was very uncomfortable about this behaviour.  I don't think any new-boy dared to object, or to complain.  The Head Master was a large red-faced man, he lived in the 'Crow's Nest' in the attic of the building in Vine Avenue. He taught us Latin.  A Mrs Lang was the English and Geography teacher was nice enough, but none of the other teachers (in my view) were at all pleasant.  Three were dismissed, as I understood it, because they had been interfering with the pupils.  One of those spent his (Liquid) lunches over at the Vine Tavern.  He and his father (both Maths teachers) left suddenly. Whilst I didn't like them at all, they did not cause me, nor did I experience any other personal problems. One of these three 'dismissed' teachers was an ex-naval man. At school he attended the class room dressed in Navy clothes, a white roll neck sweater, and even down to thick white socks, and sea boots!.  He was a strange, and amusing personality.
I can't remember what subject he taught, but I do remember him setting tests, and class work.  Whilst we were quietly beavering away, he would start to whistle.  He would pick up a peace of chalk and start drawing continuous wiggly lines along, and then down, the blackboard.  One day he ran out of space, and he continued down the wall to the floor.  Then, along the bare wooden floor (floorboards) until he had almost got to the back of the class-room.  He suddenly realised that all the pupils were looking at him and giggling.  He stood up, straightened himself up, looked about him, then let out a chuckle, and then returned to the front of the class and carried on as if nothing had happened.  Weird!
    He had a short piece of turned wood. It was a short, about 200mm. long, by about 30mm. in diameter.  It was lacquered shiny black. I remember it well. This teacher introduced us to this 'rod', it was, he said was his: "Pifflesnonker"!  He warned that: anybody who misbehaved would "Get it" !  We soon discovered how. The 'Pifflesnonker' would be out on lying on his desk in readiness!  Anybody that he caught not paying attention, he would deftly deftly flick this weapon directly at the culprit, and with some force.  The nearest it came to me was at my desk neighbour; John Hall.  However John was pretty sharp, sensed the moments silence in the classroom, and saw it coming out of the corner of his eye.  John reacted in a split second.  He ducked, at the same time deftly lifting his hinged desk-lid as a shield. The pifflesnonker struck the lid with a resounding crash!  The teacher let out a chuckle, as did the rest of the class.  To have been actually struck by the flying 'pifflesnonker', would have been no joke.  The weapon was tossed back to the teacher, who caught it, and then (Without a word) he examined it tenderly as if to see if it had incurred any damage.
    Not long after that event, we saw no more of that teacher. We understood that he had been dismissed. We pupils were rather disappointed. He had been quite a character, and as far as I could judge, a fairly likable one.

    Each day we had to drink a compulsory half-a-pint of milk, straight out of the bottle, come Summer or Winter. We had to queue up outside for our ration (Or dose), and our names were ticked off by monitors. Sometimes, for a bit of fun, we would take our empty bottles down into the front basement room, and we used to toss the empties up the chimney.  Quite a few didn't drop down again.  Somebody was going to get a surprise one day, when they find them!  Perhaps they are still there.  Only if it was wet, did we drank our milk in the basement, and the flat metal top of the 'Morrison shelter' in the rear basement room served as a convenient table.
    We had a perfect hiding place.  There was a cupboard in the kitchen area. We discovered that the boarded ceiling could easily be pushed up.  We could clamber up, push up these boards, then once in situ we could replace them.  There was just enough room for two crouched boys. We would stage a disappearance when it suited us, then mischievously reappear again as if we had never been away.
We could also go into the kitchen, lock the door, and get out through the serving hatch, into the basement passage.  This was a useful means of escape sometimes.  Only a clique of a select few of us knew of these 'secrets'. Or so we thought.
    In Winter, sometimes it was so cold that the milk was frozen, in fact it would expand out of the neck of the bottle, but we would still be expected to try and drink it.
    One day my parents gave me a second-hand Norman 20" wheel, single speed, bicycle which they had managed to get hold of.  There would have been none available in the shops until sometime after the war was over. I was able, and expected to, cycle to school; whatever the weather.  I think all bikes then were painted black.  We didn't have very good waterproof, or warm clothing; it just wasn't available in those days, and there were no artificial fibres like nylon, nor plastic.  The only gloves I had were hand-knitted, as were my socks.  My long, red-and-black striped school-scarf I knitted myself.  My mother knitted us Baracalava Helmets, which kept our heads warm. However, wool wasn't easy to obtain.  It was quite common to un-pick old jumpers to obtain the necessary knitting wool.  Old or reject clothing was cut up for patches, o clippy-mats, etc.  We made wooden frame, and pegs, for the mats or rugs, out of any wood we could get our hands on. Zips were at a premium, and if you were lucky, only metal ones were available. Jeans were unknown (they had not been invented in the U.K. The nearest thing to 'Trainers' would have been canvas topped plimsolls.  A lot of things were rationed and on coupons. Despite this we were a lot tidier in our dress than the children I often see today.  Never, ever, would we have dared walk about with our shirt hanging out! With the top button and neck open, or with our tie lose knotted around ones neck.  Mind you some of the 'Straw-Boaters' were often in a dreadful condition.  They were expensive to buy, and not very durable, and of course generally impractical to wear on a pushbike.
    What lights we did have for the bikes had to be severely masked, and bulbs and batteries were not always easily available.  One of our bikes was equiped with a pre-war heavy 'Miller' dynamo.
I think that school discipline was much more severe than it is today.  In some ways that may have been a good thing, but not in others. When I went on to Sevenoaks School, there were house monitors and School Prefects.  The Prefects had walking sticks as part of their uniform.  They used to strut about the town, and school, and I think it gave them an exaggerated air of grandeur, and self importance.  They were allowed to administer punishment upon their own discretion, which included the cane!  If it was a really serious matter then teachers would become involved.  They could also beat, or thrash students, and they most certainly did. As I know to my cost.
Other punishment for not doing homework, or poor work, etc., would be: 'LINES', and detention, or both. 'Detention' meant staying behind after school, and writing 'lines' or doing homework. Writing a hundred lines "I must not put my hands in my pockets", or something like that was a tedious task, and did nothing to improve our knowledge.
    I received the cane, three strokes, administered by a prefect in the school library, for the crime of: "Being cheeky to a Prefect in Woolworths!" An accusation that I deny to this day!
     We were just not allowed to run when out of school. We had a tight schedule to be able us to catch bus home, after school finished from Sevenoaks (Bligh's Meadow) Bus Station. The 421 service to Kemsing ran hourly.  So it was pretty critical for us to catch our bus, which departed at around 5 pm.  We were not allowed to run, but we developed a very fast walk. Sometimes we did run, and prayed that no one who mattered, saw us doing it.  Another good reason for cycling to and from school, one didn't have to worry about missing the bus.
    It also got me out of the absolute requirement to wear a straw boater (however old or battered it might be) as part of the school uniform, which I hated. Such headgear was impractical for cycling, which was a good excuse.
    We were required (Roll-calls were taken) to watch inter school rugby matches.  We would line the touchline of the pitch, but we had to stand a bout a meter back from the touch-line.  This line was patrolled by prefects who wielded their walking sticks as they strolled up and down, rather full of their own importance.  Anyone who was out of line would catch a crack on the shins from a stick.  We were watching a match one day. Close by me stood one boy who was in our class had who had one injured leg, which was encased in plaster. He could still wear long trousers over the plaster cast.  He was a bit slow easing back from the line; too slow for the patience of a particularly arrogant prefect, who was so incensed that wrought a viciously hard blow across the boy's shins.  It was so severe, that it cracked the Prefect's walking sticky!  He hadn't realised that his victim's leg was in plaster!  The Prefect was both embarrassed and furious at the same time.  We surprised ourselves by jeering, and we laughed at him in a spontaneous outburst.  That thankfully he walked away in a dudgeon.  Normally we would not have dared stand up to a Prefect.
    The younger and smaller pupils (Which I was, i.e.: small for my age) were allowed, as a special concession to play 'Soccer'. This suited me fine. I liked soccer. I had been in the school soccer team at the Prep., and continued to be for Sevenoaks School.  The school had its own playing fileds, but the football we used to play whilst at Sevenoaks School was on a pitch down at Knole Paddock.
    We played Cricket on grounds at 'the Grange' and Holmesdale road, which I enjoyed. I had started out as a fast bowler, but because I was having problems with severe nosebleeds (Due to an exposed blood vessel), I reverted to slow spin.  To my surprise I found this technique was very effective. We 'Day-boys' were in a newly formed 'House' called 'Wordsworth'.  During the school cricket tournament we (Bottom of the chart) came up against the favourites: 'School House' (Composed of Borders).  I was brought on to bowl.  I had already taken a couple of cheap wickets, which had surprised the rather arrogant and cock-sure School-House boys.  When on came the school's cricket team captain, and the number one batsman (Whose name was: 'Lark').  He was going to teach me a lesson. He was a left hander,which I wasn't very used to bowling to. Panic stations!  He hit me for six off my first ball. "Oh dear!"
    I decided, with my second ball, to change tactics, and bowl round the wicket with a leg spin.  Whilst I could cause the ball to change direction quite markedly, my accuracy whilst bowling leg-breaks could not be relied upon, but I had to do something! Being hit for six is no fun. Fortune was on my side, and I completely baffled him with the next delivery: very slow round-the-wicket.  He took a swing, there was a clatter of stumps: I got him! Out for six.  He was furious and dumbfounded (Much to my delight), and it took him some time to accept what had occurred, and grudgingly, he eventually returned muttering to the 'pavilion'.  To be precise, there wasn't a pavilion, just to the side of the pitch.  They scored about 60 runs all out, and out of those sixty, I took 6 wickets for only 18 runs! Which included that 'SIX'.
    I was no great shakes as a batsman. In that same match, I hit two fours in two balls and then was caught at the boundary. Out for 8. "Hit or miss", that was me. At least I had scored 2 more runs than the Head-Boy, and school captain had! And! He wasn't a bowler!
   There were a number of 'Houses', some named after a poet, but mostly after the building in which they lived.

THE HEAD MASTER (Sevenoaks school)
   The head-master always wore a black gown around the school. Sometimes a mortar-board. The only other teacher I only recall who wore his (Rather tatty) gown all the time was the music teacher, Mr Coles. Come speech days, and for the school photograph, then that was different; all those that had gowns, did wear them (and Flaunted them).
    In keeping with a name like "Higgs-Walker", the 'Head' drove an upright and sedate Rolls-Royce.  This was nick-named the: "Ark Royal".  I suppose that after the war, motor vehicles started to come out of storage, and petrol became more readily available.  The 'Arc Royal' was so quiet that it could creep up behind you, without you knowing.  The Head had a small Hitler like moustache, he was of medium build, wore a dark grey pin-striped suit and he walked about with his nose permanently in the air.  He was sometimes seen in walking with a tiny dark grey Scottie dog.  This pathetic pooch (dog), didn't somehow seem to fit in very well with his otherwise abrasive manner, and arrogant image.
    The 'Head's' 'Ark Royal', looked something like this!
    We had little contact with the Headmaster. He would usually take the morning assembly in the School Hall. Very occasionally we would 'have him' for English in the School Library.  When this was the case, one could hear a pin drop; people were frightened to breath.  Apparently he had been looking through some of our work, when he called a boy over (Called 'Horton?' I think.).  They boy stood at obediently at attention beside, and on the left side of the head-master's desk. The Head muttered something to the boy, and pointed to a passage of his work in his exercise book.  Horton lent over to get a closer look, and in doing so, to retain his balance, placed the reversed palms of his hands (Quite gently) on the edge of the Head's desk.  The Head punched him hard in the stomach!   He wasn't going to have anyone leaning on HIS desk!
I was horrified! 'Horton' had some difficulty regaining his composure, and went very red in the face. I had never liked this apparently arrogant man, and I liked, and respected him, even less after that incident.

The Digweed Development Corporation.
    Every boy was expected to join the Air-Cadets.  If you didn't, then you were conscripted into the 'merry' band of men of the "Digweed Development Corporation". I can only describe it as a group of labourers, slav-labourers more like.  It had originally been set up by a Prefect whose surname was: 'Digweed'.
    On each Monday afternoon, one either went on parade with the A.T.C., or we had to present yourself for hard physical work with the corporation.  As usual there was a list, and a roll-call. So you were obliged to attend. It was our task to level out a large piece of land, which was the prospective site for a new hall, or building. Since it was a fee-paying school, our conscription was something rather more than just cheap labour!
    We slaved away like navvies with a few shovels and picks. We did not have the luxury of wheelbarrows, yet there was a mountain of earth/soil to be shifted. Plywood Tea-chests were converted for carrying the soil.  They had long wooden handles on either side.  We filled these containers with our spoil, ready to be carried away.  Carried 'Coolie' fashion.  They were very heavy to lift (With one at either end standing between the 'shafts'), even when they were only half full. Especially if, and when, the spoil was wet.  Why hadn't I joined the ATC.?  I really don't know the answer to that one.  It wouldn't have been such hard work, and that is for sure. A new building does now stand on that site, perhaps partly due to our blood, sweat, and tears.
    The school has changed since I was there.  I believe that they now admits 'girls'!  We had absolutely no contact with the opposite sex when I was at school.  However there may have been some interchange with other girls schools where music was involved, though not at the school itself.
Rationing of food and many other material things continued long after the war.  Cars were not available during the war, and were in very short supply for a long time afterwards.

LEISURE TIME
    There were no toys.  They couldn't be bought during the war, expect perhaps sometimes, second-hand ones, if we were lucky.  All manufacturing was concentrated on the war effort.  There were absolutely no 'Holidays' as such. We had school holiday periods when we didn't go to school, but going away, or especially venturing abroad, was not an option.  At the coast there was very restricted access to the beach. The beaches, when we rarely got anywhere near them, were usually cordoned off with barbed wire.  As I have mentioned elsewhere in this account, we were allowed on the beach at Whitley Bay, near Newcastle, in Northumberland, but it was only for a limited period during the day.
    Back home, we went walking and playing largely on the North Downs; gathering firewood, discovering bomb craters, made bows and arrows, fruit picking (Including mostly wild Damsons, and Blackberries), or helping on the farm. What we did was dependent on the season; such as blackberry picking, damson picking, and collecting chestnuts, were from late Summer through to the Autumn proper.
    Ferreting was confined to the Autumn, or Winter, months.  It wasn't sensible to set a ferret to work if rabbits in the spring, when there were young about.  The rabbits breeding season could extend through the summer.  The ferret, or Ferrets still had to be fed daily, and cleaned regularly, all the year round.  Actually they were pretty clean animals, providing their bedding was changed regularly.  They had needle sharp teeth, and so had to learn to be handle them with care.
    Unlike today, we were very much governed by the seasons.  There were little, or no, imported fruit, or vegetables. Sports goods were in very limited supply, and what equipment we did have, was mostly second-hand.  Though I do remember David Bridge (I think it was) getting hold of a NEW(and much prized) cricket ball through contacts at school (cricket balls were made locally).
    I did not get my first new bike until about 1948. I had to save up for it myself, and I remember taking my much treasured Arthur Ransome books all the way to Tunbridge Wells where I sold them to Halls second-hand Book shop (it is still there! ~ I wonder if my books are too?) for three (old) pence each.  I eventually raised the £18 for this smart new bike I had ordered, and which I had to wait for.  It was a Philips, with had 3 speed Sturmy Archer gears, and equipped with a Brooks leather saddle.  I cycled all over Kent. Up to Rochester, and Gravesend, down to Hastings, and around Kent; all on my own.  I had no maps to guide me.  I had to carry out my own repairs.  I took a pocket book along with me, and a camera.  I collected pub names. There were a lot more of them then, and one could, to some extent navigate using pubs as a reference.  There was so much less traffic then that, if it suited you, one could (as a fourteen year old) usually ride on 'A' roads with reasonable safety . There were no motorways.
    Don't forget too, that there a blackout was strictly enforced, so there were no streetlights, and at night, one even had to be careful how you opened an outside door, or, if you weren't careful, you might show a light.  I don't know what would have happened you didn't.  I do remember the air-raid-wardens, and hearing shouts of: "Put that light out!", when the blackout wasn't perfect, and may have leaked a crack of light
    We made our own toys out of scrap materials. We had no electrical tools, and simple things like sandpaper were difficult to come by, if at al l. Similarly we made our own sledges, and trolleys or Go-Karts, all out of scrap materials.
    We spent a lot of leisure time on the hills (Downs). Sometimes, taking our home-made 'Bows and arrows', and Catapults, with us. I suppose it is surprising that none of us didn't lose an eye.  We gathered firewood. Went fruit picking. Gathered: Chestnuts, Blackberries, and Mushrooms.  Went Ferreting, Gleaning, and stooking at harvest time. Egg collecting! Walking. Working on the Farm. Played Knock-Down-Ginger out in the road (Childsbridge Lane).  All the Recreation-grounds, and public sports fields were ploughed up and used for growing crops, although the Schools themselves still had some playing fields.  Posters declaring that we should 'Dig-for-Victory' were fairly common.  Although advertising was rare, with little, or no, hoardings or bill-boards.  Land Girls are often heralded, but as far as we were concerned they were few and far between, whilst prisoners of war, there were many, and for a while, especially leading up to D-Day, large numbers of allied troops, and their equipment (Vehicles, tanks, jeeps, Hal-tracks, etc.) were everywhere.
    Although we had no 'Going-away' holidays, and everything to do with playing leisure, and sport was virtually unavailable; we didn't seem to get bored for one moment.  We seemed to have had much more freedom than today's children.
    Our garden was large, we had half an acre of garden to look after.  It took a long time to cut, as we did, our tennis court, and lawns with a 12" push mower. Then we had our veggie garden, so quite a lot of time was taken up Gardening. The ground was very chalky, and not very productive as soils go. There were no insect repellents, and no artificial fertilisers. No D.I.Y. stores.  No Super Markets. Petrol was strictly rationed (rationing carried on for some time after the war had ended).  There were no sweets .  No exotic fruit.  No Bananas, no oranges, etc., because almost nothing in the food line was imported, almost everything we ate had to be 'Home-grown'.
    I remember buying my first fireworks in Sevenoaks (probably in 1948).  I had to queue up, and what we were able to buy was strictly very limited, and only available just before November the 5th.  But we had a huge bonfire, in a field near West Yaldham Farm, and made a good guy.  We used a lot of the fencing material, which was gleaned from the jumps at the local point-to-point. We used an old two-wheel horse cart, for that purpose, which we had to pull along with our own manpower only.  The next year we were not allowed to touch those jumps (understandably), as they decided to use the same ones over again (until work started on the M26. Motorway).


Tuesday 30 October 2012


Chapter 10

WW2. To the Immediate 'Post War'.

AT SCHOOL
     Some aspects of how my life was at school, or what I can still remember of it, have already been covered in respect of the war itself, and as it may have effected our school life, but I thought it pertinent to enlarge on school, and how our leisure life was, at that time.
     I remember very little of when I was at the Russell House School (Kemsing), on the Pilgrim's Way, which then had recently moved from "Cleves" (Now the Youth Hostel in Kemsing) to a house which was situated at the bottom of the 'Chase'.   The Chase was then a close/cul-du-sac, off the Pilgrims Way .  The Head Teacher, and founder, was a Mrs Russell.  Later the school moved to Station Road, Otford.
    We had some play/activities on the lawn in the back garden of the school, and strangely, I remember that the fence was of the lattice, split-chestnut pole variety.  The garden backed out into the '100 Acre' field, which, providing it  hadn't got a crop on it, and it was dry; we would walk across to get-to-and-from home  Sometimes we would catch the bus, but it was hardly worth doing that  as the bus then ran along the Pilgrim's Way, and the nearest stop was some distance away from our house, at the top of our road (Childsbridge Lane).  The West End had not been widended up until then, and so the buses ran along the 'top' road (Pilgrim's Way), turning down into the village via the Landway, and not down Childsbridge Lane; later they went on along the West End into the village.
    At the 'Prep' (Preparatory School) we had to wear a uniform, which must have made life difficult for my Mother, and no doubt other parents too.  We wore a woolly grey shirt, school tie, grey home knitted socks, a grey blazer with the school badge on the breast pocket, and the divided red and black school cap. The uniform was obtained from the small outfitters shop at the top of the High Street in Sevenoaks, called Hardcastles (which is still there, or it was the last time I was in Sevenoaks).
    I remember the first day at the Prep school only too well.  A group of Prefects rounded up the 'New-boys', and we were roughly ushered into the front basement room.  There we were ordered to drop our trousers and pants.  I remember that I was very uncomfortable about this, but I don't think any new-boy dared to object, or to complain.  I suppose it was some sort of initiation ceremony
     The Head Master was a large red-faced man, called Mr Jukes, he lived in a flat we called the 'Crow's Nest' up in the attic of the building, in Vine Avenue.  He taught us Latin.  A Mrs Lang was the English and Geography teacher was nice enough, but none of the other teachers were at all pleasant.  Three were dismissed, as I understood it, because they had been interfering with the pupils. One of those (Mr Hanley) spent his (Liquid) lunches over at the Vine Tavern.  Mr Small and his father (both Maths teachers), left suddenly.  Whilst I didn't like them, they did not cause me any bother, nor did I experience any other personal problems.  Another teachers who was dismissed was an ex-naval man.  At school he attended our class room dressed in Navy clothes.  He wore a white roll neck sweater, sometimes a navy blue blazer, and even thick white socks, and sea boots!. He was strange, but we thought an amusing character.
    I can't remember which subject he taught, but I do remember him setting tests, and class work.and whilst we were quietly beavering away, he would start to whistle.  Then he would pick up a peace of chalk and start drawing continuous wiggly lines along, and then down, the blackboard.  One day he ran out of space, and he continued down the wall to the floor. Then, along the bare wooden floor (floorboards) until he had almost got to the back of the class-room.  He suddenly realised that all the pupils were looking at him and giggling. He stood up, straightened himself up, looked about him, then let out a chuckle, and then returned to the front of the class and carried on as if nothing had happened.
    He had a short piece of turned cherry wood.  It was a short, about 200mm. long, by about 30mm. in diameter.  It was lacquered shiny black. I remember it well.  This teacher introduced us to this 'rod', it was, he said was his: "Piffle-Snonker"! He warned us that: anybody who misbehaved would "Get it"!  We soon discovered how. The 'Piffle-Snonker' would be out on lying on his desk in readiness!  Anybody that he caught not paying attention, he would deftly flick this weapon directly at the culprit, and with some force.  The nearest it came to me was my at ther neighbouring of John Hall.  However John was alert, and pretty sharp, he sensed the moments silence in the classroom, and saw it coming out of the corner of his eye. John reacted in a split second.  He ducked, at the same time deftly lifting his hinged desk-lid as a shield.  The pifflesnonker struck the lid with a resounding crash!  The teacher let out a chuckle, as did the rest of the class.  To have been actually struck by the flying 'piffle-snonker', would have been no joke.  The weapon was tossed back to the teacher, who caught it, and then (Without a word) he examined it tenderly as if to see if it had incurred any damage.

Strangely enough, a few years ago, I had a telephone call from a man who said that he worked for the BBC. He wanted to know how I had found out about Pifflesnonkers, and what I knew about them.  I knew nothing about them, I had only learnt the word from my errant teacher.  But, nothing is new under the sun.  There are several sites on the W W Web relating to Pifflesnonkers, currently I think it has something to do with a drinking clique and FOFB (Friends of Froth Blowers) which has a President or Templer and a Vice-Gargler.   

    Not long after that event, we saw no more of that teacher.  We understood that he had been dismissed.  We pupils were rather disappointed.  He had been quite a character, and as far as I could judge, a fairly likable one.
    We had to drink a compulsory half-a-pint of milk, straight out of the bottle, come Summer or Winter.  We had to queue up outside for our ration (Or dose), and our names were ticked off by monitors.  Sometimes, for a bit of fun, we would take the empty bottles down into the front basement room, and we used to toss the empties up the chimney.  Quite a few didn't drop down again.  Somebody is going to get a surprise one day, when they find them! Perhaps they are still there.  Only if it was wet, did we drank our milk in the basement, and the flat metal top of the 'Morrison shelter' in the rear basement room served as a convenient table.  We also heated up a poker until it was glowing red, we would then insert into a milk bottle only partially full with water, the milk bottle would be cut neatly off, at the level of the water.    I wouldn’t recommend that practice now.
    In the basement we had a perfect hiding place.  There was a cupboard in the kitchen area.  We discovered that the boarded ceiling could easily be pushed up. We could clamber up, push up these boards, then once in situ we could replace them.  There was just enough room for two crouched boys.  We would stage a disappearance act when it suited us, then mischievously reappear again as if we had never been away.
    We could also go into the kitchen, lock the door, and get out through the serving hatch, into the basement passage.  This was a useful means of escape sometimes. Only a clique of a select few of us knew of these 'secrets'.  Or so we liked to think.
    In Winter, sometimes it was so cold that the milk was frozen, in fact it would expand out of the neck of the bottle, but we would still be expected to try and drink it.
     My parents gave me a second-hand Norman 20" wheel, single speed, bicycle which they had managed to get hold of.  There would not have been any available in the shops until sometime after the war was over.  I was able, and expected to, cycle to school; whatever the weather.  I think all bikes then were painted black.     We didn't have very effective waterproof, or warm, clothing; it just wasn't available in those days, and there were no artificial fibres like nylon, or plastic.  The only gloves I had were hand-knitted, as were my socks.  My long, red-and-black striped school-scarf I knitted myself.  My mother knitted us Baracalava Helmets, which kept our heads warm.  However, wool wasn't easy to obtain.  It was quite common for us to un-pick old jumpers to obtain the necessary knitting wool to make a new one.  Old, or reject, clothing was cut up for patches, for clippy-mats, etc.  We made a wooden frame with holes for adjustment, and wooden pegs, for making the mats or rugs, out of any wood we could get our hands on.   Zips were at a premium, and if you were lucky, only metal ones were available.  Jeans were unknown (they had not been invented in the U.K. The nearest thing to 'Trainers' would have been canvas-topped plimsolls.  A lot of things were rationed and on coupons.  Despite this we were a lot tidier in our dress than the children I often see today.  Never, ever, would we have dared walk about with our shirt hanging out, or with the our shirt’s top button undone and be open-necked, or with our tie lose knotted around ones neck; like we see today.  Mind you, some of the 'Straw-Boaters' were often in a dreadful condition.  They were expensive to buy, and not very durable, and of course generally impractical to wear on a pushbike, and that was my excuse for not having one.
   What lights we did have for the bikes had to be severely masked, and bulbs and batteries were not always easily available. One of our bikes was equipped with a pre-war, heavy, 'Miller' dynamo which worked off the tyre.
    I think that school discipline then was much more severe than it is today.  In some ways that may have been a good thing, but not in others.  Later, when I went on to Sevenoaks School, there were house monitors and School Prefects.  The Prefects had walking sticks as part of their uniform.  They used to strut about the town, and school, and I think it gave them an exaggerated air of grandeur, and self importance.  They were allowed to administer physical punishment using their own discretion, which included the cane!  If it was a really serious matter then teachers would become involved.  They could also beat, or thrash pupils, and they most certainly did.  As I know to my cost.
    Other punishment for not doing homework, or poor work, etc., would be to do: 'LINES', and detention, or both.  'Detention' meant staying behind after school, and writing 'lines' or doing homework.  Writing a hundred lines "I must not put my hands in my pockets", or something like that was a tedious task doing nothing to improve our knowledge.
    I received the cane, three strokes, administered by a prefect in the school library, for the crime of: "Being cheeky to a Prefect in Woolworths!" An accusation that I categorically deny to this day!
We were just not allowed to run when out of school. We had a tight schedule to be able us to catch bus home, after school finished from Sevenoaks (Bligh's Meadow) Bus Station.  The 421 service to Kemsing ran hourly.  So it was pretty critical for us to catch our bus, which departed at around 5 pm.  We were not allowed to run, and so we developed a very fast walk.  Sometimes we did run, and prayed that no one who mattered, saw us doing it.  Another good reason for cycling to and from school, then one didn't have to worry about missing the bus.
    Cycling also got me out of the absolute requirement to wear a straw-boater (however old or battered it might be) as part of the school uniform, which I hated.  Such headgear was impractical for cycling, which was a good excuse I could use.
    We were required (Roll-calls were taken to make sure we did, even on a Saturday) to watch inte-school rugby matches.  We would line the touchline of the pitch, but we had to stand a bout a meter back from the touch-line.  This line was patrolled by prefects who wielded their walking sticks as they strolled up and down, rather full of their own importance.  Anyone who was out of line would catch a crack on the shins from a stick.  We were watching a match one day, and close by me stood one boy who was in our class who had who had one injured leg, which was encased in plaster.    He was allowed to wear long trousers over the plaster cast. Probably because of his injury, he was a bit slow easing back from the line; too slow for the patience of a particularly arrogant prefect, who was so incensed that wrought a viciously hard blow across the boy's shins.  It was so severe, that it cracked the Prefect's walking sticky!  The Prefect was both embarrassed and furious at the same time.  We surprised ourselves by jeering, and we laughed at him in a spontaneous outburst.  That thankfully he walked away in a dudgeon. Normally we would not have dared stand up to a Prefect.
    The younger and smaller pupils (Which I was, i.e.: small for my age) were allowed, as a special concession to play 'Soccer'.  This suited me fine.  I liked soccer.  I had been in the school soccer team at the Prep so, and continued to be for Sevenoaks School.  The school had its own playing fileds, but the football we used to play whilst at Sevenoaks School was on a pitch down at Knole-Paddock.
    We played Cricket on grounds at 'the Grange' and Holmesdale road, which I enjoyed.  I had started out as a fast bowler, but because I was having problems with severe nosebleeds (Due to an exposed blood vessel), I reverted to slow spin. To my surprise I found this technique was very effective.  We 'Day-boys' were in a newly formed 'House' called 'Wordsworth'.  During the school cricket tournament we (Bottom of the chart) came up against the favourites: 'School House' (Composed of Borders).  I was brought on to bowl.  I had already taken a couple of cheap wickets, which had surprised the rather arrogant and cock-sure School-House boys.  When on came the school's cricket team captain, and the number one batsman (Whose name was: 'Lark').  He was going to teach me a lesson. He was a left-hander, which I wasn't very used to bowling to.  Panic stations! He hit me for six off my first ball. "Oh dear!"
    I decided, with my second ball, to change tactics, and bowl round the wicket using a leg spin.  Whilst I could cause the ball to change direction quite markedly, my accuracy whilst bowling leg-breaks could not be relied upon, but I had to do something!  Being hit for six is no fun.  Fortune was on my side, and I completely baffled him with the next delivery: very slow round-the-wicket.  He took a swing, there was a clatter of stumps: I got him!  Out for six.  He was furious and dumfounded (Much to my delight), and it took him some time to accept what had occurred, and grudgingly, he eventually returned muttering to the 'pavilion'. Actually, to be precise, there wasn't a pavilion, just to the side of the pitch.  They scored about 60 runs all out, and out of those sixty, I took 6 wickets for only 18 runs! Which included that 'SIX'.
    I was no great shakes as a batsman though.  In that same match, I hit two fours in successive balls, but then I was caught at the boundary.  Out for 8.  "Hit or miss", that was me.  At least I had scored 2 more runs than the Head-Boy, and school captain had!  And!  He wasn't a bowler!
    There were a number of 'Houses', some named after a poet, but mostly after the building in which they lived.

THE HEAD MASTER (of Sevenoaks School)
   The head-master always wore a black gown around the school.  Sometimes a mortar-board.  The only other teacher I only recall who wore his (Rather tatty) gown all the time was the music teacher, Mr Coles.  Come speech days, and for the school photograph, then that was different; all those that had gowns, did wear them (and Flaunted them).
    In keeping with a name like "Higgs-Walker", the 'Head' drove an upright and sedate Rolls-Royce.  This we nick-named the: "Ark Royal". I suppose, that after the war, motor vehicles started to come out of storage, and petrol became more readily available.  The 'Arc Royal' was so quiet that it could creep up behind you, without you knowing.  The Head had a small Hitler like moustache, he was of medium build, wore a dark grey pin-striped suit and he walked about with his nose permanently in the air.  He was sometimes seen in walking with a tiny dark grey Scottie dog.  This pathetic pooch (dog), didn't somehow seem to fit in very well with his otherwise abrasive manner, and arrogant image.
    We had little contact with the Headmaster.  He would usually take the morning assembly in the School Hall.  Very occasionally we would 'have him' for English in the School Library.  When this was the case, one could hear a pin drop; people were frightened to breath. Apparently he had been looking through some of our work, when he called a boy over (Called 'Horton?' I think.).  They boy stood at obediently at attention beside, and on the left side of the head-master's desk.  The Head muttered something to the boy, and pointed to a passage of his work in his exercise book.  Horton lent over to get a closer look, and in doing so, to retain his balance, placed the reversed palms of his hands (Quite gently) on the edge of the Head's desk.  The Head punched him hard in the stomach!  He wasn't going to have anyone leaning on HIS desk!
   I was horrified! 'Horton' had some difficulty regaining his composure, and went very red in the face.  I had never liked this apparently arrogant man, and I liked, and respected him, even less after that incident. 

The Digweed Development Corporation.
   Every boy was expected to join the Air-Cadets. Or, if you didn't, then you were conscripted into the 'merry' band of men of the "Digweed Development Corporation".  I can only describe it as a group of labourers, slave labourers.  It had originally been set up by a Prefect whose surname was: 'Digweed'.
    On each Monday afternoon, one either went on parade with the A.T.C., or we had to present yourself for hard physical work with the corporation.  As usual there was a list, and a roll-call.  So you were obliged to attend.  It was our task to level out a large piece of land, which was the prospective site for a new hall, or building.  Since it was a fee-paying school, our conscription was something rather more than just cheap labour!
    We slaved away like navvies with a few shovels and picks.  We did not have the luxury of wheelbarrows, yet there was a mountain of earth/soil to be shifted. Plywood Tea-chests were converted for carrying the soil.  They had long wooden handles on either side.  We filled these containers with our spoil, ready to be carried away.  Carried 'Coolie' fashion.  They were very heavy to lift (With one at either end standing between the 'shafts'), even when they were only half full. Especially if, and when, the spoil was wet.  Why hadn't I joined the ATC.?  I really don't know the answer to that one.  Perhaps I was a bit of a pacifist.  It wouldn't have been such hard work, and that is for sure.  A new building does now stand on that site, perhaps partly due to our blood, sweat, and tears.
    The school has changed since I was there.  I believe that they now admits 'girls'!  We had absolutely no contact with the opposite sex when I was at school. However there may have been some interchange with other girls schools where music was involved, though not at the school itself.
    Rationing of food and many other material things continued long after the war. Cars were not available during the war, and were in very short supply for a long time afterwards.

LEISURE TIME
    There were no toys.  They couldn't be bought during the war, expect perhaps sometimes, second-hand ones, if we were lucky.  All manufacturing was concentrated on the war effort.  There were absolutely no 'Holidays' as such.  We had school holiday periods when we didn't go to school, but going away, or especially venturing abroad, was not an option.  At the coast there was very restricted access to the beach.  The beaches, when we rarely got anywhere near them, were usually cordoned off with barbed wire.  As I have mentioned elsewhere in this account, we were allowed on the beach at Whitley Bay, near Newcastle, in Northumberland, but it was only for a limited period during the day.
    Back home, we went walking and playing largely on the North Downs; gathering firewood, discovering bomb craters, made bows and arrows, fruit picking (Including mostly wild Damsons, and Blackberries), or helping on the farm.  What we did was dependant on the season; such as blackberry picking, damson picking, and collecting chestnuts, were from late Summer through to the Autumn proper.  We would never come home from the Downs without bring some firewood with us.
   Ferreting was confined to the Autumn, or Winter, months.  It wasn't sensible to set a ferret to work if rabbits in the spring, when there were young about.  The rabbits breeding season could extend through the summer.  The ferret, or Ferrets still had to be fed daily, and cleaned regularly, all the year round.  Actually they were pretty clean animals, providing their bedding was changed regularly.  They had needle sharp teeth, and so had to learn to be handle them with care.
Unlike today, we were very much governed by the seasons.  There were little, or no, imported fruit, or vegetables.  Sports goods were in very limited supply, and what equipment we did have, was mostly second-hand.  Though I do remember David Bridge (I think it was) getting hold of a NEW (and much prized) cricket ball through contacts at school (cricket balls, and bats, were made locally).  
    I did not purchase my first ‘new’ bicycle until about 1948, when I was 14.  I had to save up for it myself, and I remember taking my much treasured Arthur Ransome books all the way to Tunbridge Wells where I sold them to Halls second-hand Book shop (the shop was still there the last time I was in Tunbridge Wells! ~ I wonder if my books are too?) for three (old) pence each.  I eventually raised the £18 necessary for me to buy the smart new bike I had ordered, and which I had to wait for.  It was a Philips, Vox-Populi) with Reynolds 531 steel tubing frame, it had 3 speed Sturm-Archer gears, and was fitted with a Brooks leather saddle.  I cycled all over Kent.  Up to Rochester, and Gravesend, down to Hastings, and around Kent; all on my own.  I had no maps to guide me.  I had to carry out my own repairs.  I took a pocket book along with me, and a camera.  I collected pub names.  There were a lot more of them about then, and one could, to some extent navigate using pubs as a reference. There was so much less traffic then that, if it suited you, one could (as a fourteen year old) usually ride on 'A' roads with reasonable safety.  There were no motorways.
    Don't forget too, that there a blackout was strictly enforced, so there were no streetlights, and at night, one even had to be careful how you opened an outside door, or, if you weren't careful, you might show a light.  I don't know what would have happened you didn't.  I do remember the air-raid-wardens, and hearing shouts of: "Put that light out!", when the blackout wasn't perfect, and may have leaked a crack of light
    We made our own toys out of any scrap materials we could lay our hands on.  We had no electrical tools, and even simple things like sandpaper were difficult to come by; if they were available at all. Similarly we made our own sledges, and trolleys or Go-Karts, all out of scrap materials.
    We spent a lot of our leisure time on the hills (Downs).  Sometimes, taking our home-made 'Bows and arrows', and Catapults, with us.  I suppose it is surprising that none of us didn't lose an eye.  We gathered firewood.  Went fruit picking.  Gathered: Chestnuts, Blackberries, and Mushrooms.  Went Ferreting, Gleaning, and helping on the farm stooking at harvest time.  Wild bird’s egg collecting (oh dear)!  Walking.   Played Knock-Down-Ginger out in the road (Childsbridge Lane).  All the Recreation-grounds, and public sports fields had been ploughed up, and used for growing crops, although the Schools themselves still had some playing fields. Posters declaring that we should 'Dig-for-Victory' were fairly common.  Although advertising was rare, with little, or no, bill-boards. Land Girls are often heralded by the media, and no doubt they played an important role, but as far as we were concerned they were few and far between; whilst of prisoners of war (P.O.Ws), there were a plenty, and for a while, especially leading up to D-Day, large numbers of allied troops, and their equipment (Vehicles, tanks, jeeps, Halftracks, etc.) were everywhere.
    During the war, although we had no 'Going-away' holidays, and everything to do with leisure, and sport was virtually unavailable; despite this we didn't seem to get bored for one moment.    We seemed to have had much more freedom than today's children.
   Our garden was large, we had half an acre of garden to look after.  It took a long time to cut, as we did, our tennis court, and lawns with a 12" push mower. Then we had our veggie-garden, so quite a lot of time was taken up Gardening.  The soil was very chalky, and not very productive.  There were no insect repellents, and no artificial fertilisers.  No D.I.Y. stores.  No Super Markets.  Petrol was strictly rationed (rationing carried on for some time after the war had ended).  There were no sweets.  No exotic fruits.  No Bananas, no oranges, etc., because almost nothing in the food line was imported, almost everything we ate had to be 'Home-grown'.
    I remember buying my first fireworks in Sevenoaks (probably in 1948).  I had to queue up, and what we were able to buy was strictly very limited, and only available just before November the 5th, but we had a huge bonfire, in a field near West Yaldham Farm, and we made a good guy. We used a lot of the material gleaned from the point-to-point jumps.  We used an old two-wheel horse cart, for that purpose, which we had to pull along using only our own manpower. The next year we were not allowed to touch those jumps (understandably), as the organisers had decided to use the same ones over again (until work started on the M26. Motorway), the route of which cut through my friend’s farm, and put a stop to any more race meetings.

Monday 29 October 2012


WW2

The Build-up to D-Day supplement.

More memories.

Communications?

During the build-up to the invasion, I don’t think we knew exactly what was going on, but we were excited by all the military vehicles, and the many convoys of Bren-Gun-Carriers, DUKWs*, armoured cars, trucks (often towing guns), dispatch-riders, etc.  I now remember that there were several trucks which had reels of wire-cables belonging to signals regiments, driving about which used to throw out cables onto hedges.  These would go on for miles. All along the Pilgrims Way from Otford village to Wrotham, for example.   I can’t remember how they ran the cable across at road junctions.  These were (I assume) telephone wires for communication.   There were few phones in those days, and radio communication was in its infancy.
     They seemed to have problems at times getting this to work, as you can imagine. 

      I suppose someone must have gathered up all these wires once they were redundant, as the troops moved away as part of the invasion forces.   They may have reeled in, and re-used the wires, in other spheres
      I raise this, what may seem to be of little importance as feature of the war, but it does draw added attention to how very different (and very limited) communications then compare with today.


T.P.  04.07.2010.

* Amphibious landing-craft.

Sunday 28 October 2012

Chapter 11 Letter from the Imperial War Museum


Chapter 11                   

                         Letter from Imperial War Museum:- 





Saturday 27 October 2012



Chapter 12

WW2

The Build-up to D-Day supplement.

More memories.

Communications?

    During the build-up to the invasion, I don’t think we knew exactly what was going on, but we were excited by all the military vehicles, and the many convoys of Bren-Gun-Carriers, DUKWs*, armoured cars, trucks (often towing guns), dispatch-riders, etc.  I now remember that there were several trucks which had reels of wire-cables belonging to signals regiments, which drove about throwing out cables onto hedges, and fences.  These would go on for miles. All along the Pilgrims Way from Otford village to Wrotham, for example.   I can’t remember how they ran the cable across at road junctions, probably on high poles (Hop-poles?).  These were (I assume) telephone wires for communication.   There were no mobile phones, and  few land phones in those days, and radio communication was in its infancy.
     They seemed to have problems at times getting this to work, as you can imagine. 

      I suppose someone must have gathered up all these wires once they were redundant, as the troops moved away as part of the invasion forces.   They may have reeled in, and re-used the wires, in other spheres, I don’t know if that was so.
      I raise this, what may seem to be of little importance as feature of the war, but it does draw added attention to how very different (and limited) communications compare with today.
T.P.  04.07.2010.

*  Amphibious landing-craft.


ARP's Record of Incidents
    In the Summer of 2005 Kent County Council's Archives Unit's Bob Illingworth, based at Maidstone, became interested in my WW2 Childhood Memoirs account.  He carried out some further research and unearthed handwritten Air Raid Wardens Incident Reports, which had been  kept throughout W.W. 2; from these reports he was able to indentify, and relate to, several of the incidents recorded in my account,  which I found to be fascinating.  It also establishes that, whilst the details of the incidents I recalled in my memoirs may not always be 100% accurate, I didn't make the whole thing up!
© Ted Prangnell

Friday 26 October 2012

Chapter 13 A Dedication



Chapter 13 

A dedication.

    I would like to dedicate my Memoirs of WW2 to my very good friend, and brother-in-law: Volker, whose experiences of WW2 as a schoolboy were traumatic, and very different to mine.

      He, along with all his male teenage classmates, was whisked away from school, con-scripted to serve in the German army.     

                                                                             
                 
Hopefully Volker will be persuaded to write an account of his WW2 experiences. 


                                                                    To Volker.




Note

WW2 TV Film. 

Earlier in 2010 Ted was interviewed by ASA Film Productions about his first hand experiences of the Battle of Britain, at “ on the terrace of “Treacle Towers”, overlooking the valley and Kemsing village.  Short snippets of the interviews were included in the Sky History Channel film, which was entitled:  “Thirteen hours that saved Britain”.  The programme was broadcast on Saturday the 15th. of September to commemorate the 70th. Anniversary of that day.   

Compiled on the 6th.  October 2010.