CHAPTER 1

THE EARLY YEARS

June 1943 - September 1954

 

..........My Father Richard (Dick) Aspinall was born on 30th December 1919, in the Northern English town of Warrington, in Cheshire. Upon leaving school he tried his hand at an array of different jobs that included working in a butchers shop, a cinema as a projectionist and in the local coal yard. Then on 2nd April 1940, while living in Admiral Street, Howley, Warrington and employed as a gas fire fitter, he joined the Liverpool Scottish Regiment, a catchments unit for the British Army, to become Private Aspinall No 2934673. Later he was transferred to the Seaforth Highlands, the Cameron Highlanders, and eventually ended up with the Hampshire Regiment.
..........My Mother Blanche Irene Palmer was born on 26th January 1924 in the small rural Suffolk village of Mendlesham. Later the family moved in to a council house just a few miles away, on the outskirts of Stowmarket, on the top Creeting Road hill. At the age of 12, she went to work for Messer’s Hart & Son a grocery cum butchery shop located in Bury Street, and worked afternoons after leaving school and Saturday mornings. In those days all the shops closed at 12 noon every Saturday. Upon leaving school at the age of 14, she managed to secure full time employment with the shop owner as a live in cleaning maid. Mum has always described this time of her live as being very hard and back breaking. The lady of the house was very abrupt and was always after her pound of flesh. Mother was worked from very early in the morning through to late in the evening, on a seven day week basis. She also claims that she was only fed leftover food while the family lived a relative good life style. Once a fortnight, she was allowed half a day off, to walk home and see her family about a mile and a half away. However, because of the distance involved this did not allow her very much time to be with them. Upon her return, if she was late then she would be punished by being awarded even more work. At one time Mum became seriously ill and while trying to work with the lady standing over her, she collapsed. Even though she was allowed to go to bed for the remainder of the day, bright and early the very next morning she had to carry on with her chores. That included cleaning out the very large open fire places and dragging out the ashes in a rather large coal scuttle that had to be refilled with coal and returned to the fire place areas of the house, while her own very small bedroom was damp and cold because it did not have any heating. Her only warmth was gained by cuddling up in the two blankets she had been given by the lady of the house. Later she was to collapse once again and was finally seen by a doctor who diagnosed her with diphtheria, quite a common disease in those days. Mum eventually recovered from the illness after a long convalescing period with her parents at home, however, she never returned to the shop. I’m not sure what she was paid in those days, but she had to purchase a maids uniform from her wage. From what I understand when she eventually finished working at the shop, she was more in debt than when she first started.
..........Mum met Dad while he was on leave from a local temporary Army camp based at nearby Needham Market in late 1940. Dad accompanied by his best friend Frank was walking along the River Gipping tow-path that in those days snaked its way from Needham Market through to Stowmarket. Only a few years earlier it had seem horse drawn barges frequently use the water way to transport goods around the area.
..........It just happened that Mum along with her younger sister Kathleen Joan was also walking along the same tow-path, but in the opposite direction. As the two parties’ merged just behind the old Stowmarket Malting Buildings, a conversation developed between them, resulting with Mum pairing off with Dad and Kathleen Joan going with Frank.  Mum arranged to meet Dad at a later date and a relationship developed between them, and in just a few weeks they became engaged. My Aunt Joan also met up with Frank on a couple of occasions, but sadly he was killed just a few months later, being shot while on active service.
..........Then on 27th May 1941 along with her sister Kathleen Joan, Mum ran away and joined the Woman’s Auxiliary Air force (WAAF) having to tell a few little white lies about their age, (Mum was just 16 years old at the time, while Joan was only 15). Mum was to become LACW No 2010524, and Joan as she was known in the family, became LACW No 210572. When their Father found out, he hit the roof and all hell was let loose. However, they had signed along the dotted line as they say, and so there was nothing he could do about it.
..........Because my Father’s army unit was expecting to be sent overseas at any moment, Mum and Dad were married very quickly, on the 20th September 1941, having only seen each other on a few occasions, whenever they could both manage to get their military leave to coincide with each other. Dad was constantly moving around the country so it became increasingly difficult to meet. Then just before his embarkation to North Africa they managed to sneak a leave together and spent a wonderful week together in the sea side town of Scarbough. The war was always a constant threat to every family and when the men folk were dispatched overseas many believed that their loved ones would never return. In an effort that they had something to remind them of their brief relationship, they would try for a child. My parents were no different, and on one special occasion while I was nursing her in the last few months of her life she  whispered in my ear that I was conceived during that very special week.
..........In September 1942 while Mum was only 18 and Dad was 21, he was informed that his unit was off to North Africa to join the Allied Army that was commanded at that time by Field Marshall Montgomery, who was amassing his troops in Egypt in an attempt to push the famous German Field Marshal Rommel from North Africa and back into Europe. 
..........He sailed from Southampton on board the liner Queen Mary and headed to the Middle East, where he ended up taking part in the battle of El Alamein. Dad once described the night before the attack to me, and it must have been an horrendous experience for those who took part. Especially, when you consider that most had grown up in very small English country villages where the loudest nose they heard to date would have been a cow mooing. Dad said that at 7pm the evening before the attack was to take place the British Army started bombarding and shelling the German lines, and that there were so many guns all firing at the same time that it was like one big continual explosion that lasted right through the night till about 5am the next morning, when they were all ordered to advance forward, ahead of the tanks. Dad always believed that they were being used as the mine detectors because Montgomery did not want to lose his tanks too early in the battle.  Dad must have been a very lucky guy because he went right through the North African Campaign, then across the Mediterranean to do it all again in Sicily, and to continue on right on up through Italy. When you consider that he joined in April 1940 and was discharged in Aug 1946, and survived unscathed it’s just amazing.  All he has to show for those six years is 5 medals. They are the 1939/45 Star, the Africa Star with 8th Army Clasp, the Italy Star, the Defence Medal and the War Medal 1939/45. His overseas time is listed as Middle East 20.12.42 to 29.08.43, North Africa 30.08.43 to 15.03.44, Middle East 16.03.44 to 23.09.44, Allied Army Italy 24.09.44 to 16.05.46. After everybody was sent home, my Father had to go back Italy to help disperse the hundreds of thousands of prisons that were strewn everywhere in the Mediterranean area.
..........Mum was discharged from the Air Force in January 1943 and I was born in June of the same year at my Auntie Queenies house on the Common in Little Blakenham, just outside of Ipswich in the County of Suffolk. Aunt Queenie had been living with her first son Ivan, while her husband Eric was away fighting in the Far East. Where was later captured by the Japanese and imprisoned in the infamous Changi Jail on the island of Singapore. Later he had to endure the horrors of being forced to work on the infamous Burma railway and to witness many of his friends being forced to work without food until they died.
..........Mother later told of me of an incident that scared her and her sister, when one night a bat somehow managed to fly in to one of their bedrooms. They were absolutely terrified and spent most of the night trying to coach it in to leaving, by constantly trying to swat it with a rolled up towel. Apparently they were both scared, because as Mother put it, they thought it was going to land and nest in their hair. It being a well known myth of the time, that if a bat did land in your hair, they would entangle themselves, making it almost impossible to remove them. The incident had a happy ending when the bat eventually made its own way to freedom.
..........A few months later and while my Father was still away with the war effort, it was thought easier for my mother if she were to move back in with her family at Creeting Road, along with a few of her brothers and sisters.
..........My Grandmother’s house stood alone on a hill in the countryside, about one and a half miles from Stowmarket. The house had a lovely view of the town spread out in the valley below. Nana and Granddad had seven children, four girls and three boys. Although some of them were away in the services at the time, fighting in the war.
..........I remember most afternoons I would go into the fields that surrounded the house with my Nana and feed her chickens and geese. I would jump about on the haystacks and play around on an old derelict rusty tractor that stood in the field. Nana also had a dog called Prinny. I got on very well with this old dog and I’m told I used to push him out of his kennel and use it as a gang hut. Prinny was some type of mongrel and very big, so at times I could even ride on his back. I’m also told that my Mother and Betty another of her younger sisters used to dress me up as a girl for fun, although I do not remember this. However, other members of the family have confirmed it and I am told that there are a few photos in existence somewhere to back up their claim.
..........Unfortunately the house on Creeting Road was always crowded and my Mother felt in the way. So she moved to Warrington, Dads home town and set up house with the Hawthorne’s, Bill and Eddie. Once she was settled in, it was just a case of awaiting Dads return from the war. It had always been assumed that Dad would be returning to his old job as a gas fire fitter at the Richmond factory once the war was over. So it was only right that Mum would be there ready for his return. However, they were all to be very disappointed when he eventually did arrive home.
..........My Father returned from the war in early 1946 and saw me for the very first time. I would have been about 3 years old by then. His flight home had been a bad one and the plane had to make a forced landing somewhere, but they were all lucky and there were no casualties. Even his visit home was short lived, because after only a month’s leave he had to return to the war effort. He was then flown back to the Middle East where he had to help in the repatriation of most of the prisoners of war in that area. Lucky for him this time the flight went okay and there were no problems. I have the feeling that it might have put Dad off flying in the smaller type of aircraft, later on in life.
..........Upon his discharge from the service on 22-08-46, along with Mum he tried to set up their own home in the Warrington area, but somehow it just did not work out. Mum was constantly being ill, it being a heavy industrial area that had a constant thick blanket of smog covered over it for most of the time.
..........They thought it would be a little healthier for them if they lived in the rural area of Suffolk. They would also be able to get their own council house much quicker and anyway Dad liked the area very much, having seen it when he first met up with Mum. He had always wanted to get away from the dirt and grime that the Northern area was well known for.
..........Once again, the family headed south with all of our furniture crammed into the back of one of Cole’s (Stowmarket) removal vehicles. We arrived once again on Nana’s doorstep in Creeting Road, where we all moved in together. It was now a full house, with the return of most of Nana’s children from the war. The house on top of Creeting Road, should have displayed a sign outside proclaiming a “Full House”. It was so full in fact that my parent’s furniture had to be stored by Cole’s at their local depot in Milton Road.
..........One of my first recollections was around 1947. I would have been four years old at the time. I was attending a nursery school in Lockington Road Stowmarket, while Mother was working at the same nursery looking after the children. To get to the nursery my Mother had to walk about a miles across the fields from my Nana’s house, where we were all living, through the Gun Cotton Works, (now the I.C.I Works) and over a river. I was sat in a pushchair and upon reaching the river we came upon two boys who were dripping wet. Apparently they had been playing with a raft made from an old aircraft belly fuel tank. This had rolled over throwing both boys into the river. One was crying so my Mother spoke to them and asking if she could help. All around the bridge were wild blackberry bushes and on one of these bushes, my mother found a very large green caterpillar and pointed this out to the boys. I then remember Mum pushing me away as the boys suddenly started fighting, about who was to have the caterpillar. I do not know why I should have remembered this trivial incident but maybe it was a pointer to the future. Even, so-called friends can sometimes fall out with each other and before I reached the age of eight, I would have a scar on the top of my head made by a close friend to prove this point.
..........I believe that later Mum used to take me to the nursery on a bike, while I was placed in a little seat that fitted on the back behind her. However she would have had to go the long way round through the town, because she would not have been able to lift the bike over the railway crossing and the large wooden gates that where positioned either side of the track, by the ICI factory.
..........I cannot remember too much about this period, although I do remember bath nights. This event was held like a ritual every Friday night. Can you imagine about nine adults and one child, all trying to get into a bath at the same time? In the backyard stood the body of an old very large vintage van without wheels. It had been blocked up and turned into a shed. With curtains placed over the small round windows in the back doors. The cab was a separate compartment from the back and this was where I played at racing drivers.
..........A large galvanised bathtub was placed in the back of the van. While the water was heated in the house in a very large old brick copper, with an open fire lit underneath. The hot water was then carried to the bath in buckets by the family. Granddad would go first, followed by Nana and then the family had their pecking order. I being a child and on the end of the food chain would always be last. Can you imagine the colour of the water by the time it came around to my turn, I only hope they at least removed some of the scum from the top of the water before adding a few drops of hot water to re-warm it, that’s assuming some remained in the old copper back in the house. I must have been dirtier when I got out than when I went in. I do remember that we always had to go to bed after our bath, just in case we got the Pip, which is what Nana used to tell us. I always failed to understand what she was talking about. Later she went on to explain that it was to do with going out in the cold night air after a hot bath. I now believe what she meant was that we might get a chill. Try telling that one to the Scandinavians. Granddad used to tell us we were all lucky because their neighbours who lived by the pond in the field next door, used to stand in their back garden and throw buckets of water over each other and knowing them I’m sure they did. During the week and after a day’s work, I can always remember Granddad standing by the kitchen sink with a towel tied around his neck and draped across his back, as he tried to remove the days dirt and grime from his body. Although it did not pay you to stand too close, because as he splashed his face he usually managed to wet anything that was within reach.
..........Before you went into the shed for your bath, you had to take a towel to dry yourself with. Poor Granddad once forgot his and was witnessed by the whole family running from the shed to the house in the nude, while looking for something to cover himself. Then there was the time that I was being bathed by Mum and I managed to get away from her. By getting out of the bath and the van, and running naked down the road in front of the house. Aunt Betty finally caught me just before I reached the fruit orchard by Sterns farm a quarter of a mile down the road. I reckon that day I invented the art of streaking, but so far I have not gained notoriety for the feat.
..........Another thing I remember about that shed was that on the inside walls were large pictures of Bing Crosby. The girls of the family liked their pop stars of the forties just like the young girls of today, times have not changed that much have they.
..........The entrance to the toilet, although part of the house was positioned outside, so at nights you had to feel your way along the brick wall from the back door, because there were no lights, come to think about it, there was no electricity either. Mum tells me that she and her sisters used to use an old jam jar that had a loop of string attached around its neck and a candle burning inside to find their way.
..........The toilet was known as a thunder box and consisted of a large wooden box positioned over an old rusty bucket. A hole had been cut in the top of the box and it was then lined up dead above the bucket. For toilet paper, well rolls were none existent in those days, so we used torn up sections of a newspaper, that were placed together into a rough looking square and a hole was then poked through one of the corners. A string was then passed through the hole and tried in a loop. The loop was then   hung on a nail that was sticking out of the wall within reaching distance of the thunder box. On many occasions I heard the family laughing about whose picture in the newspaper they had just wiped their back side on, while others enjoyed a read to help pass the time.
..........Granddad had the unenviable chore of emptying the bucket on to a manure heap in the back garden at least once a week, and was usually watched by the entire family through the kitchen window laughing and giggling at him. To save Granddad emptying it more than once a week, the male members of the family were ordered to always relieve themselves up against the hedge at the back of the vehicle shed out of sight of the house and main road.
..........To lock the toilet door there was a bolt on the inside. Being very young, I did not really understand how it worked. One day I got the bolt slid across locking the door, but I could not pull it back when I wanted to leave the throne room as I later called it. A furious Granddad had to charge the door with a garden shovel in an effort to break it down, in order to get me out. This left him in a bad mood because he also had to repair the door afterwards, while the other members of the family did not help the situation with their constant laughing at him about the incident, especially my Uncle Brian.
..........Dad was turning out to be known as Mr Lucky, after all, he had gone right through the Second World War without a single scratch and then suddenly within just a few days of arriving in Stowmarket he found himself a job working for George Thurlow Engineering works in Stowmarket. He then purchased himself a bicycle from one of the local shops, I believe it could have been Ivan Codds to help him get to work, so much easier than walking, and I bet he had under taken enough of that while walking across Northern Africa and up the entire length of Italy. Years later I used to taunt him, it was a wonder they didn’t expect him to swim from North Africa over to Sicily.
..........Nana’s youngest son Michael used to take me out with him and was forever getting me into trouble. Me being young and innocent, I would do whatever he told me after all he was older than me so he must be right. Just down the road from where we were living was a farm owned by Mr Stern, which had a very large orchard and was surrounded by a thick hedge. Mick and Brian would talk me into going into the orchard through a very small hole they had made, taking with me a sack. I would then have to fill it up with apples and to try to drag it back to the hole. I would then have to pass it back through the hole to them. I cannot remember if I was ever caught, but I do remember having a stomach-ache a few times and to being told off by my parents, while Mick and Brian just laughed at me getting into trouble. Mick was the master of working out different problems as they arose, one trick he used on many occasions, was to place a nail through the end of the stick. In order to get at the fruit that lay on the other side of the hedge. He would then pass the stick through the hedge wherever he found a hole and puncture the apple with the nail. He would then very carefully and slowly drag the apple back through the hedge.
..........To Mick and Brian anything food was fair game to be gathered as they called it, especially wild blackberry’s. On one occasion in his haste to devour as many as possible before Brian, Mick accidentally swallowed one that still had a stalk attached to it and it became lodged in the back of his throat. No matter what he did he could not dislodge it. Later that day he was heard running around the back yard going “Caw-Caw”, just like an old crow trying to cough it up. Mum always laughed about that one and was constantly re-telling me the story.
..........Mother once told me that during the bad winter of 1949 and after a deep covering of snow. Mick, Brian, Mum and I had taken a small wooden sledge to the top of Creeting Road Hill. Once there she had stood in horror as Mick and I hurtled down the hill at break neck speed. Not being able to do anything about it, she had to just hope that we both reached the bottom safely and in one piece, which we did. It always amazed her that the older boys thought I could do the same as them and it never entered their heads that I was just a little toddler.
..........It was also around this time while I was attending the nursery in Lockington Road, that I had my first major accident. The play ground around the back of the nursery had a concrete floor and a four-foot high brick wall around the whole area. One day while we were playing, I found myself pushing a large wooden train on wooden wheels. Instead of pulling it with the string that was attached to the front, as was the usual method of playing with it. This time I was pushing it and pushing it very fast. In fact I was running as fast as I could, all the way down the full length of the play area. When I lifted up my head to see where I was going, bang! I had gone slap bang into the brick wall surrounding the play area. I cannot remember what happened next. However, I do have a rather large scar on my upper lip just under my nose, to prove the incident did take place. During my early teenage years, it haunted me and I became very self-conscious that it made me look ugly and that the girls would not give me a second look. The nursery was also the place where I made my very first friend Larry Hammond. I cannot remember much about that first meeting but we did go right through school together. If you look at the photo of the nursery Larry is on the right at the back just peering over somebody’s head.
..........Another Incident that happened during 1947 was the detonation of two unexploded German bombs near Nana’s house. During the latter part of the 2nd World War, a German plane had dropped a couple of them on Stowmarket in an attempt to hit the Gun Cotton Plant, which could be seen from the front of Nana’s house. However, the two bombs missed their mark and landed in some garden allotments and the river at the back of Lime Tree Place, which was on the other side of the river to the ICI factory. One was a 500lb while the other was a 2000lb. The Army had removed these and had taken them to some waste ground, still in view of Nana’s house, to where they could be exploded safely. I can remember all these army guys who were involved in this work were hanging around the front gate of Nana’s house. I thought they were just being friendly, I guess I just did not realise what a magnetic attraction girls have on service men that are away from their families for long periods of time. A future foreman later informed me that sex will draw you further than gunpowder can blow you, how right he was.
..........Anyway, I had been told that these bombs would go off at a certain time. During the intended explosion, I had planned to hide in a large wooden box in the backyard, while playing at soldiers. It was late Sunday afternoon and most of the family were all sitting around the tea table having tea when, the bombs eventually went off. The explosion caught me by surprise and made me jump. I tried to dive under the kitchen table and cuddle Prinny the dog, because I had been caught out and was very scared. It had been a very loud bang, so it was sometime before I finally ventured out from under the table.
..........Sometime later Uncle Mick took me to the area and showed me the very large hole in the ground. All very scary, I never did like that large hole in the ground. In fact, I was in the area a couple of years later and that hole still scared me, it was finally filled in during the fifties, when the Britannic Allies Company built a factory there. 
..........Harvest time was always a family event. At that time, the farmers used what was known as a Binder to cut the corn. It could be horse or tractor drawn and carried out the cutting of the corn or wheat from the fields around Nana’s house. This machine cut the corn and tied it up into a bundle with string holding it together, and then flicked the bundle (called Sheaths) out the side onto the corn stubble. A group of men that included, Mick, Ivan and myself would walk behind the Binder picking up these sheaths and stack about six or eight of them together, with the wheat ears pointing upwards to dry out. Then a couple of weeks later when they were dried out they would be collected up and placed on a wooden horse drawn cart, known as a tumble and taken to an area where they were stacked in to the shape of a large haystack.
..........On a prearranged day a harvesting team would arrive with a Thrashing machine and an International Tractor to drive it. Although on some occasions a steam engine would be used to drive the Thrasher. Both these engines used a very long six inch wide belt that was attached between the tractor and or steam engine to the thrasher. These were very dangerous, being several meters apart. There were several stories going round about people who had walked in to the belts and badly cut their faces.
..........The Thrashing machine would be parked by the haystack so the sheaths could be loaded straight into the machine to have the wheat or corn grains removed from the ears and stems. The corn grains ended up in sacks attached to the side of the thrasher, while the waste known as chaff was blown out the back and onto the ground. Other tumbles full of wheat would also keep arriving from other nearby fields. This process would go on from first light in the morning until it got dark at night for more than a week, or as long as it stayed dry.
..........At that time it was always light in the evening’s right through to almost 11pm. I believe it was known as double summer time. Unlike today when we altered our clocks by one hour, during the war we altered them by two hours. This was to assist the farmers to gather their harvest. Jobs like cutting and thrashing could not be carried out if the corn was damp.
..........The thrashing team usually consisted of around a dozen men, brought in especially for the job. The farmers having to hire the harvest team in order to bolster up their work force. Not many farmers owned their own thrashing machine at that time. Us boys would all be allowed to walk around with our so called rabbiting sticks, special sticks we had cut from the hedgerow about 3 to 4 feet long usually with a big knob or ball on one end. This would be used to club the rabbits or rats that tried to come past you while trying to escape the stack. Rabbits made a good meal in those days. Not many families could afford to buy meat every week. Although I have to own up to not having killed many in my life time, as I’m a great animal lover. However, I would have to pretend that I was trying to hit them as they ran passed me. Perhaps that’s how I attracted the name of butter fingers while I was at the primary school.
..........One big family event was the dinner break. Nana and Betty would walk from the house to the area where the thrashing was taking place, usually on the top of Creeting Road on the same side as the house. They would bring a lunch for Granddad, Mick, Ivan and I. When the headman called lunch, all the men folk would find some straw to sit on and eat their meal. Nana would usually bring thick slices of white bread and a large chunk of cheese. Granddad would always cut his up with a penknife he carried in his pocket, eating the cheese from the blade of the knife. For some reason they were also called a Shirt knife but why I have no idea. For a drink, Nana had brought a tin billycan full of cold tea (no milk). Later on, Granddad took his own food to work and he would have his cold tea in an old pop (lemonade) bottle. Upon his arrival home, I would always look in his lunch bag and would be delighted if I found some uneaten food. That is, as long as he allowed me to eat it. Later in life, I was told that he usually took a little stale food to work with him, so that it would be eaten by me in the late afternoon when he returned home. Oh well I guess we could not afford to throw anything away in those days.
..........I was baptised on 9th September 1947, Mum, Dad and I all went to Auntie Queenies house at Little Blakenham (where I was born) by bus. Uncle Eric picked us up at the bus stop outside of the Chequers public house on his motorbike, placing Dad on the back and Mum and I in the sidecar. It was about two miles to their house and I loved riding on that contraption. After about an hour at their house we all walked another mile or so to the Somersham Village Church for the christening. I cannot remember if it was just me, or whether Ivan and David were also christened at the same time. It would have been a warm part of the year as I remember all the men were wearing short sleeve shirts. To record this event I still have in my possession my baptism card.
..........This was also the year that my Father changed his job and went to work for the ICI paints factory. He must have enjoyed his work because he stayed with this company until he finally retired in September 1977 age 57 due to illness.
..........Down the bottom of Creeting Road hill stood a factory owned by the Stramit Company. They used to make insulated partitions for the building industry. The insulation they used was discarded and unwanted straw that the farmers usually burnt off after they had finished their harvesting. In order to store and keep the straw dry it was stacked in a very large barn close to the factory. One night I was awakened by my Mother and told to look out of the bed room window. The whole sky seemed to be lit up by a deep red glow. She told me that the large barn down the bottom of the hill at the Stramit factory had caught fire. The fire raged for a long time and curiosity finally got the better of us. In the end we all walked down the hill to take a closer look. You could feel the heat from the fire halfway down the hill. I often wondered how the fire men could get close to the heat to try and put it out.
..........The following morning we went back for another look in the day light and it was still burning. All I could see was a mass of twisted steel en-twined in to a large heap of black ash that was blowing everywhere by a strong wind. Nana even complained that the black ash had got onto her washing that was hanging on the linen line in the backyard. I believe that officially, faulty wiring was blamed for the disaster. This being the same old explanation we were usually given, which really meant that they had run out of ideas. Not much has changed over the years, most modern fires are once again blamed on electrical faults. If it was an electrical fault I would make a guess that the wiring had been chewed by rats, because the whole area was infested with them.
..........It was also around this time that the local council finally relented and gave us our own house and so in November we moved into 20 Thorny View at Combs Ford. This was a pre-fabricated building, specially built after the war to house families quickly. What I remember most is that it had a fridge, I’d never seen one before. (Nana never even had electricity or running water let alone a fridge). This house was just amazing and I even had my own bedroom. They were designed for a ten-year life span, as far as I know they were still standing in late 1995.
..........20 Thorny View was at the other end of Stowmarket from Nana’s house and so on Sunday afternoons Mum, Dad and I would go for a walk to see Nana and the rest of the family. To shorten the journey we would take a short cut, instead of going through the town we would go across the railway line by the ICI factory and farmland, staying to the footpaths. It was still a very long walk of at least two miles. However, it was very pleasant walking through the countryside. Such a pity we don’t live a life style like that today, because I’m sure we would be a little healthier, and would still have family reunions on a more regular basis.
..........1947 was also the worst year we ever had for snow it lasted from January until April, with snowdrifts cutting most of the villages off from the major towns. I was told later, it was so cold that the bricklayers never laid a brick for thirteen weeks because the water in the cement froze. It was also during one of these weeks that on a certain Sunday we went to Nana’s across the fields, which was a little bit of an effort because of the deep snow. When we eventually arrived at Nana’s, Mum, her sister Betty, Prinny the dog and I went for a walk along the road in front of the house. We only got about half a mile just past Sterns farm and up to Olly Euston’s house, one of Mums old school friends. This was also located on the top of a hill and the road was completely blocked with snow. I do not know how tall I was, but I could not see over the top of the snow, which was right across the road and in the distance as far as my Mother could see. On the way back to Nana’s house, Betty kept throwing Prinny into the ditches along either side of the road and watching him struggle to get out. All of the ditches where full of snow and looked as if they had what we called snow bridges draped across them. She even conned the dog into trying to walk over them, poor old dog when he did, once again he ended up in the bottom of the ditch covered in snow.
..........In 1948, my parents fostered Hazel, a little girl from London who was not quite two years of age. Her Mother could not cope with looking after her after her husband had walked out on her. Or that’s what I was led to believe. I got on very well with Hazel and to this day, I often wonder whatever happened to her. Unfortunately, her mother took her back in early 1951. All I can remember is her screaming and crying as she was taken away in a taxi by a welfare worker. I would think everybody in the street heard her screams that day, poor Hazel, (if only Mum had managed to adopt her). I guess I will never see her again as I have no idea what her surname was, which is a pity because now we have the internet I might have stood a chance of tracing her.
..........My first recollection of a headache that comes to mind happened while we were all celebrating one of Hazel's birthdays. Mum and Dad had laid on an afternoon of games and partying. I was experiencing this pain in my head as the afternoon progressed. The pain got steadily worse, but not wanting to miss any of the excitement, I stayed with them. Then it was party time, Mum had set a table full of goodies, plenty of cream cakes. (By now, everybody knows my love of cream cakes). It did not take us long to tuck into the food, with me finally eating too many Coconut Pyramids. The pain in my head got so bad that I reluctantly had to go to bed and lay down. I remember trying to sleep to get rid of the pain inside my head, but no sleep or relief came. However, I could hear Mum, Dad and Hazel all laughing and playing in the front room. Finally it got the better of me I just had to get up and to try to join in. I guess I thought I was missing out on something. Anyway, I had only been sat on the settee for a couple of minutes when I was violently sick. Poor Mum, as she had to clean up the mess on her new carpet. Me, well I ended up back in bed. However, to this day I have never eaten another Coconut Pyramid cake or anything that contains coconut.
..........After my sickness at Hazel's party I started to notice that I was suffering with pains in my head on a more regular basis, but I did not understand what it was all about. At times the pain would be so bad that I would have to go to bed and lay down. Mum would get me some tablets known as Aspro’s to take to help relieve the pain, but they tasted terrible and I would end up gagging and spitting them out. This left me with a mouth that tasted like the bottom of a budgie cage. Mum used to crush up half a tablet and mix it up with a blob of jam on a small tea spoon, but I would still wince as I tried to swallow the spoonful. A different story today, I can now pop 6 tablets into my mouth at one time and just swallow them down without a drink, I guess that’s what comes with practice over 50 years. It was also because of the name of these tablets and my surname of Aspinall, that I attracted the nick name of Aspro
..........The night before one of my birthdays, Dad told me there would be a big surprise for me in the morning. Well there was a big surprise all right, but it was for my Mum and Dad and not me. While I was in bed, Dad had gone out during the night and bought me a pet dog, leaving it in the kitchen until I got up. Imagine their surprise, when they got up in the morning and went into the kitchen to find the fridge door wide open and a large joint of meat missing. Weeks later the bone was eventually found in my toy box. I always remember thinking, what a funny shape the dog was as he looked very fat. Poor old dog he did not last long, I think he had gone within the week. Although I did find time to name him "Rusty" before he went, because of his dark brown chocolate coloured coat. Although Dad named him the thief, and as you can imagine it did not take him long to give him away to somebody along Needham Road, just opposite the Eastern Electric Board main depot. I believe it was Joan Turners Father. I’m always reminded of that birthday because of the walk I later had to make when Mum ordered me to go to Messrs Hart and Son to purchase a pound of sausages for our weekend dinner, to replace the missing joint of meat. Meat was still very scarce in those days and quite costly. This was also the same shop where my mother used to work when she first left school.
..........1948 was also the year I started school. I remember Mum taking me to the Combs Ford Primary and while waiting to see the head mistress Mrs Mullenger; I made friends with Ray Saunders. Ray lived in Valley View the next street behind Thorney View. I was five years old, my education was about to start. Unfortunately, I cannot remember much about these first very early years. The only thing that stands out is both Ray and myself must have been caught doing something wrong, as we had to write out some lines as they say. This entailed writing something out about one hundred times. We had to go into the main hall and kneel on the floor writing on the base of a chair. Writing out these lines, I must not whatever, whatever, do it again, etc, etc. What a waste of time, energy, ink and paper. The only other teachers I can remember were a Mrs Leveret the music teacher, Mrs Knights and a Mr Pattle, who was the art teacher and was the first person I ever saw wearing glasses with no wire frames. They were made up of just two glass lenses wired together along the top edge of the glass. His classroom also over looked Hillside Road and was one of the last ones you would attend before moving up to the Secondary Modern School.
..........An incident that haunted me for quite some time happened while we were at Thorny View. I was very lucky to have my own bedroom, in which were two matching single beds. One night I was having some strange and weird dreams. In the morning I awoke feeling very cold and to find myself in the other bed lying on a heap of folded up blankets and only covered by a very thin bedspread. I do not know why or what happened, I guess I must have been sleepwalking and changed beds. This amazed me and I wanted to know more about what had happened. Mum and Dad just used to laugh at me every time I asked. To me I had no idea what sleepwalking was, However, I have since learnt that I used to sleepwalk during those early years. Another time Mum and Dad were awoken by banging noises on the wall, they found me in the linen cupboard banging on the wall trying to get out. When asked what I was doing I told them that I was trying to get out of the phone box. I must have been dreaming about the public telephone box that was positioned just across the road from Clive Barnard’s house and in an area where we used to meet up and play, while constantly trying to make false calls.
..........Clive and I were terrors when we got together, getting into all sorts of trouble. One day after a Guy Fawkes bonfire night, we were going around collecting up all the dead fire work casings lying around, when I found a very large one. A fight developed between us, ending when Clive picked up a large stone and threatened to throw it at me, if I did not give him the firework. I said go on then throw it and of cause he did, splitting open the left side of my head. A passer by Jeffery Loads (16 years old at the time) saw what had happened and took me home to my parents. Dad had to take me to see Doctor Hayden who practiced opposite the new Regal Cinema, to have a few stitches inserted in my scalp. Many years later I saw Jeffery in a bar in Singapore (1963) but I never spoke to him, one of the biggest regrets I have had during my life time.
..........Near the centre of Stowmarket stood an old Cinema, I believe it was called the Palladium, but became known to the locals as the Flea Pit. Next to it was the old Congregational Church that had been bombed during the Second World War. There was still heaps of rubble lying around everywhere, amongst the old large tombstones. Money was being collected in order that it could be rebuilt, but it was a slow process with not much money around at that time, it being only a couple of years since the end of the War.
Clive and I had just come out of the Cinema after watching a Tarzan film and not wanting to go straight home. We found ourselves playing around the area of the church that was near the main road. Even though the main area had heaps of rubble fenced off, a few of the tombstones were by the roadside outside of the fenced off enclosure. Anyway, we were playing Tarzan jumping off anything we could climb on to. Until that is I jumped from one large grave and landed very awkwardly with one of my feet half on a house brick, twisting my ankle. I then had to hobble all the way home, in great pain using Clive as a support. Poor Clive he always seemed to be around when I got hurt. I spent all night in very bad pain, by the next morning it had blown up like a football. Dad rushed me off to the doctors to be told that I had fractured my ankle. I can’t blame Clive this time although he was there when it happened.
..........One of my most embarrassing moments while I was still very young took place while we lived at Thorny View. Because of the war effort the country had suffered heavily from shortages of almost everything. Even though it had been over for a couple of years, some items were still very hard to obtain, especially food. In fact rationing was still in place and all families had a rationing book that was policed very rigidly by the authorities. That was one of the reasons why we children never had many sweets.
..........Most people in the area were all trying to grow their own vegetables in their back gardens. Other more lucky ones were being given garden allotments by the local councils. Dad was trying his hardest to get a good garden started at the back of the house, but he wanted his vegetables to grow quicker. One day a load of horses went down Poplar Hill in front of the house, being taken to the Stowmarket Market (Thursday). When Dad came home from work and noticed that they had left a few deposits on the road. His first thought was his garden and so he ordered me to take the coal scuttle and shovel and to go and scoop it all up. The whole idea horrified me, I could just imagine all those prying eyes behind lace curtains watching me and laughing. Because of my refusal, I think there was a big row and Dad gave me a hiding, but at least I did not end up doing the dirty job.
..........This brings me on to another subject, in those days not many farmers had transport for their stock. Therefore, the stock would be driven through the streets by dogs to the market. I can remember herds of sheep and cattle coming down Poplar Hill at different times of the year. Everybody would come out of their houses to watch and stand by their gates to stop stray animals getting into their gardens and eating their precious vegetables.
..........The earliest musical memories I have, was of being a member of the local Combs Parish Church Choir, I joined mainly because my mates at that time, Clive Barnard, David Taylor, Kevin Boyce and a few others, talked me into it. However, another was the cash incentive, I believe it was about Five Shillings a quarter (3 months) and being about 8 years old at the time it was a lot of money for me. In those days our parents did not give us pocket money. They occasionally gave us the price of a cinema ticket, which was 3 pence. However, back to the choir for my 5 shillings I had to sing in the church choir every Sunday morning at 11am and every Thursday night at a practice session held in the small church hall at the bottom of Combs Ford next to the Boys Brigade Drill hall. Unfortunately, I did not survive in the choir very long. I had a disagreement with the vicar's son, who was a bully and one day managed to lock me in the Church bell tower. I just rang the bells not realising that they could be heard for about a five-mile radius. Therefore, it was not surprising I was let out in double quick time. In addition, for the misdemeanour I was expelled from the choir. With the benefit of hind sight I also believe that it was just an excuse to get rid of me because of my bad singing. Firstly, I could not sing in tune and secondly I was putting off other budding singers around me by my constant fooling around. I think that maybe a few dogs in the area were to be heard howling in tune better than me. All this was evident during one practice session when I was asked to sing a solo, boy it was woeful or should I say pitiful. I can still hear it now and cringe at the very thought. I was always playing about being the comedian of the choir, unfortunately, not many people in the Church organisation had a sense of humour and even less appreciated my clowning around. Something I do not think is appreciated to this day by most people around me.
..........Like the time I placed a live frog on the organist keyboard, half the congregation heard it croaking and the time I put another frog in the font just before a christening that we had to all sing at. A spider here, a dead mouse there, I thought it was all one big joke. The churchyard was a great place to play and Clive and I were always looking under the tomb stones, catching lizards and slow worms, to take to school and scare the girls with.
..........In those days I used to love going for walks in the country side, these were the days, the beautiful 50’s. If I could relive just one small part of life once again, this is the period I would choose. Life was so simple and care free, where as to day we are all worried about obtaining material items that we could all do without. Nobody has time to talk to each other because we are all in a hurry. When was the last time you all sat down as a family at a table for a meal, instead of having your plate on your lap sitting in front of the Television, or worse than that eating at the local fish and chip shop with your ships all wrapped in an old newspaper.
..........It was on one of these walks on a Sunday afternoon that a gang of us set off for the Combs Church area. Most parents made their children go for a walk on Sundays, because there was no playing on the Sabbath day. Amongst us was a boy named Brian Shaw, his family was not like ours and he did whatever he wanted, lucky devil. Anyway, while walking along a farm footpath and looking through a hedge Brian saw some chickens, he soon climbed through and promptly re-appeared with a couple of eggs in his hands. Everybody had a look, but that was all, nobody wanted one and nobody even touched them, and I’m sure Brian would have put them back. However, it was about this time that somebody saw us and believing we were stealing the eggs, made us all go and see the farmer. I think it was Mr Vic Turner (no relation to Joan).
..........Farmer Groom was not there, but we had to leave our names and addresses with his wife, we then went on our merry way. Upon returning home, the farmer had already turned up and told Dad his version of the story. Unfortunately, it did not match mine and Dad would not believe me when I told him I had done nothing wrong. Mr Vic Turner, who reported us to the farmer worked with Dad at the I.C.I and I always hated him after that little episode, he forgot to tell the farmer only one boy went through the hedge and picked up the eggs. I always wished I’d have been big enough to show him my hatred towards him. In addition and to cap it off, Brian Shaw was the only one of us who never got a hiding from his Father that evening. He was lucky his family was not as strict as ours. The gang that day consisted of Clive, Brian, David and Neville Taylor, Brian and Rodney Mayes, Kevin Boyce and myself.
..........Aunt Joan, Mums sister, got married around 1949, at the Stowmarket Church, by the market place, with the reception being held at the co-op hall, which used to stand between the river Gipping and the Railway Tavern Hotel and the Maltings. Very close to the very same spot where Mum and Dad first met. All the family were there and my cousin Ivan and I ended up on our own on a small table in the corner by the main door. This was the first time I ever tasted a drop of beer, but it was only a couple of sips. Ivan on the other hand had a couple of small glasses of the elixir and ended up giggling a lot. I cannot remember if I had a hangover the following day, but I do know I did not like the taste. At that age, I do not think I knew what it was or what it could do to you, boy what tales I could tell now.
..........Behind Thorny View estate was the Valley View Road estate. Some of its houses known as Orlits had already been completed and people were already living in them, while others were still under construction. The young boys of the area would all use the partial built houses as a play ground. Playing games like hide and seek and generally getting into mischief. Sadly for me or should I say sadly for Ray Saunders, he had an accident while we were playing on a concrete mixer. I was turning the handle to move the hopper from one side to the other and Ray managed to get one of his fingers caught in the gearing crushing it badly. His big brother Brian gave me a beating and for years after always blamed and taunted me about what I had done. Nevertheless, it was an accident and anyway none of us should have been playing with the machine in the first place. Ray’s finger healed but I think it was left a little bent and would always give him pain over the years.
..........Thursdays was market day and a farmer would always drive past Poplar Hill coming from Upper Combs in his horse drawn cart on his way to the Stowmarket Markets and then return in the late afternoon. The local boys would all wait for him whenever possible, so they could hitch a ride. He was a very friendly old chap and would always pick us up and drop us off wherever we wanted. We would usually go from the top of Poplar Hill down to Ford at the bottom of the hill. This ritual would be repeated in reverse in the afternoon for a ride home. We all enjoyed this ride immensely I wish I could remember that farmer’s name. 
..........One thing I do remember about these early days was that we never had very many holidays. If you were lucky you might get, one day out a year, like a Sunday school outing. It was always on a Saturday and at Felixstowe, it being the nearest coastal sea side resort. This trip would take months to arrange, and hours to reach.
..........While we were living in Thorny View, Dad organised one such trip. Once a week he would go around each house and collect a small amount of money, usually a shilling from each family. After about six months the day would arrive when most of the street, after a group photo, would set off in one of Combs Coach for Felixstowe. Due to the conditions of the roads in those days, it would take an eternity to travel the twenty-four miles to get to the beach, in some instances at least three hours. When we finally arrived, what a disappointment, the beach was completely covered with large stones, with not a grain of sand in sight. I had brought my bucket and spade along with me for nothing. Also on the beach were many very old wooden beach huts used for changing in and mounted on four large iron rimmed wheels. While dotted amongst them were very large square concrete blocks. Which I’m told was used as anti-tank and landing craft deterrents during the last war. Along the promenade were many smaller changing huts and hundreds and hundreds of deck chairs scattered all over the place. To service these, was an army of men all collecting three pence from each person sitting on them. It became a bit of a game trying to get one for free. Dad would grab a couple but then spent most of the time watching out for the collector as he walked along the beach. Once he was a few yards away, we all had to jump up and move on, not having the money to pay for their hire. I used to wonder why we could not just sit on the stones.
..........On One occasion, Dad arranged a trip around the bay in a local fishing boat for us all, but I did not want to go. For some reason I was very scared and terrified of the sea and I cried all the way out, but by the time the boat swung around for the return trip, I had started to enjoy it. As for the cost, I would have to guess that it might have cost Dad six pence each. I do know that the deck chairs were cheaper.
..........Around 1951 we were once again on the move. Dad and Mum had always wanted a larger house and managed to talk the local council into a swap deal. We moved to 67 Poplar Hill, which just happen to be directly over the road from where we were living. That was an easy move all we had to do was carry everything over by hand, no trucks needed this time. Mind you it was in full view of our very nosey neighbours. Some of who watched our every move from behind lace curtains which was a big pass time in those days. So this was a great chance for them to take a good look at our belongings and give them something to talk about. I used to wave at them, but only when Dad was not watching me.
..........The house was a two storey with three bedrooms, it was very roomy with large gardens at the front and back, which my Father soon had well planted and sprouting with vegetables. The house was on Poplar Hill and was positioned up high with the front garden sloping down to the road. This was a great road for sledging during the winter snows. All the boys in the area would gather on the hill while the snow lasted. It became the popular pastime during the winter months. Halfway up Poplar and at right angle, was another hill called Webb Road. The side of our house was along side of Webb Road while the front was facing Poplar Hill. We would sledge down the steeper Webb Road and then right across Poplar Hill before crashing into a steep bank on the other side of the Road. On one particular day Glynn Carroll from Jubilee Avenue turned up with a metal serving tray and started sledging down Webb Road without checking if any traffic was coming down Poplar Hill. Unbeknown to him a high wheel based lorry was on its way down. Because of the steepness of the hill and the ice on the road, the truck had slowed down to negotiate the brow of the hill. The boy started off on his sledge ride only to realise halfway down that the lorry was going to meet him at the junction and with no brakes it was out of his hands to change anything. I don’t think the lorry driver even saw the sledge it just went straight under the body of the truck between the wheels and came out the other side. It was a good job Glynn was lying down flat on his sledge. The truck never stopped, it couldn’t because the hill was very slippery and all covered in ice.
..........Mum was approached by the local authority’s that looked after foster children in our area, as to whether she would give a couple of young children a few months’ holiday. She agreed and within a short period of time two little girls turned up on our doorstep escorted by the lady from the department. One was Elizabeth, who was tall, dark and about ten years old, while the other was Margaret, who was short, blonde and about eight years old. However, these two became a bit of a handful for Mum, who after a hectic short holiday was quite pleased to see the end of their stay with us. They were returned to the children’s home from whence they had come and to this day, I have never seen or heard from them again.
..........As a change from tradition Dad hired a caravan for a week’s holiday at Clacton, belonging to a Mr Young who lived behind the Pickerel Pub in another caravan. This was to be our first week’s holiday away from home. He arranged for Nana, Granddad, Mum, himself and I to all spend a week together by the sea and I must admit that we all looked forward to it during the coming months. The van was located on the Hazledene Caravan Park, just outside and to the North of Clacton on sea. I still have some photos of us all beside an open-air swimming pool in the centre of Clacton and the caravan. However, like all holidays the week flew by and it was soon over. Now it would be another year before we would be able to take another one. Somehow the next 52 weeks seemed to drag by at such a slow pace of life.
..........In those days nothing much happened on a Sunday, certainly, nobody worked, it being a religious day. Children had to go for a walk in the afternoons usually in their best clothes. Our family would all make their way up to Nana’s house, standing alone and very proud, right on top of Creeting Road hill, with a fantastic panoramic view of Combs Ford and half of Stowmarket. All this could be seen from the front room window. The family would gather with the women folk and the children in the front room, looking through the laced curtains out the window and just talking. While the men folk would gather around the kitchen table playing cards, Crib I believe, with very low stakes of a penny a time. Granddad was usually the winner, although I might add that my Father was also a dab hand at playing cards.
..........One of the things I loved to do was play with an old freestanding gramophone that stood in a corner by the fireplace in the front room. It was a wind up machine and all the records were breakable 78 rpm’s. My Auntie Betty would usually help me get it working. The trouble was, the sound that it produced always seemed to sound very scratchy and we were forever changing the very large copper needles. They were about an inch long and about 4 times thicker than a normal size darning needle. I do not believe that the sound of the records would ever have sounded any better. Because over the years the needles had been changed repeatedly and with the old one’s just being returned to the needle jar, it’s understandable. I can only remember one record that was in Nana’s collection, but it’s always been a favourite of mine “Kaw Liga” by Hank William’s Snr. Anyway I had a lot of fun in those days and I certainly got a taste for what was to come.
..........Aunt Betty showed me a trick I’ve shown many people over the years and it always gets a laugh. Get an old Christmas card and stick one of these old fashioned needles up into one of the corners of the card, then hold the card and place the needle in the groove of the record as it’s going around on the turntable.  You will be able to hear the tune being played as the Christmas card becomes the sound box.
..........Around four o’clock in the afternoon Nana would get all her grandchildren together and take them into the fields beside the house to feed her chickens, geese and ducks. This was a great place to play and we all loved it, romping in the haystacks and chasing each other around. While I’ve mentioned that Nana kept Geese, I can vaguely remember that at one time she became seriously ill and that it was put down to the Geese eggs being off. Later a member of the family told me she was very lucky to survive the experience.
..........While at 67 Poplar Hill I had two bad experiences with illness, the first was when I was diagnosed with an Abscess in my right ear. The pain was horrendous and I did not seem to be able to get any relief what so ever. Until that is Mum on the advice of a friend, made up a little cloth bag and filled it with ordinary table salt. Once this bag had been warmed by laying it on a heated kettle, she would then place it on my ear as I lay in bed with my head on the pillow, the relief was amazing. Mum has told me that I was constantly running around the yard complaining that I had a bee buzzing in my ear.
..........The second illness was when I was admitted to one of the Ipswich hospitals, (near Barrack Corner) to have my tonsils and adenoids removed. The operation went well, it was just that I got myself locked in the toilet once again. The problems started, when in an effort to shout for help I ruptured my throat and I was violently sick. Once a nurses had managed to get me out of the toilet they found the floor completely cover with a couple of pints of my blood and vomit.
..........While in the hospital I befriend a fellow Stowmarket boy in the bed next to me, but he came from the other end of the town, and I didn’t get to know him until I eventually went to the Stowmarket Secondary Modern School. Porky Quirk and I’m sorry but for the life of me I can’t remember his real first name. Upon leaving school immigrated to the USA and went into the automotive industry, and I’m told he ended up in one of the top jobs at Ford. Good on your mate you deserve it.
..........Once a year a travelling fun fair would arrive in our area and set up on a big field in front of Pikes Garage at Combs Ford. It had all the usual sideshow activities, swinging boats and the dodgems cars. One Saturday afternoon Dad took me down for a look and after much coaxing Dad said he would take me for a ride on the dodgem cars. In those days there was not much safety built into these cars. I always remember in the middle of the steering wheel was a very large nut. I think nowadays it is padded with foam. We were driving around with Dad sitting beside me assisting me with the steering when, bang, somebody bumped into the back of my car. This knocked my body forward smashing my eye onto the nut in the centre of the steering wheel, causing it to split open and stream with blood. Dad had to take me to see Doctor Hayden again. Lucky for me no stitches were needed. Boy the accidents are starting to come in thick and fast now, but it did not dampen my spirits about fair grounds.
..........1952 saw me reaching my ninth birthday while still wearing short trousers. During my school summer holidays I would spend a lot of time at Nana’s, I just loved the countryside. On many occasions, I would help the local farmer Mr Scuffins when he was working in the fields near Nana’s house. On this particular occasion I was helping him drill his wheat seed. The field we were working was in full view of Nana’s house. Mr Scuffins was driving the tractor when a fault developed on the seed drill being towed behind. I was left steering the tractor while Mr Scuffins ran back and checked the fault. I had never driven anything before, only the dodgem cars and you know what happened in that little escapade. I did not even know how to turn the steering wheel, in fact I did not know what a steering wheel was or did. The ditch around the edge of the field was starting to loom up fast and then at the very last moment Mr Scuffins must have realised what was happening and jumped back on the tractor to take control, just as the front wheel was about to go into the ditch. Phew, that was a close one and to make matters worse most of the family at Nana’s house saw what was happening and all laughed. I was always ribbed by the family about this incident for many months with Uncle Brian once again being the main culprit.
..........On a couple of Sunday afternoons during the summer, you would find Uncles Mick, Brian and myself in what was known as Nana’s field, where she kept her chickens and geese. The main attraction was a small pond shaded by a very large walnut tree. This was where I could usually be found eating the nuts that I found on the ground around its base. While all around would be the sounds of the countryside, that included most of the local bird life. However, Mick and Brian would disturb this peace and tranquillity with the sound of an air rifle being discharged. Their sport was, (but not with my approval) shooting at the Newts as they came up for air (a type of water lizard). These beautiful looking lizard shaped creatures, would stay under the water for a couple of minutes before having to come up for their last gasp of air before the boys popped them off one by one. How cruel we are in this crazy world. Unfortunately, I would have been too young to say anything, but I did not accept what they were doing as correct. I understand that the Newt’s are now an endangered species and sadly my family can be blamed for assisting in their decline.
..........This was the year we went for a week’s holiday to Bournemouth staying at Mr and Mrs Seton's boarding house. On a day trip, Dad took us to the Isle of White, on a boat called "The Empress of India" which I remember as being a very large paddle steamer. After a day on the Island, just walking around taking in the sites, we stopped at the local restaurant where I gorged into a plate of cream cakes. The return trip turned out to be very rough and I was violently sick all the way back to Bournemouth, leaving my Mother an unwanted present in her plastic raincoat. Dad threw it over the side of the boat along with all of its contents into the sea.
..........On another occasion Mr and Mrs Seton’s young son took us out to show us the local sites of the town. Dad promised him that later he would buy him an Ice cream. Unfortunately the nearest shop was a couple of miles away. And boy did he want that ice cream, we spent half the day walking to the Ice cream parlour and the other half walking home. By the time we got home we were all out of breath and wanting a long rest. It had turned out to be one very long day. Mr Seton worked across the road from where he lived, at the local post card factory. On one occasion he gave us all a guided tour showing us how it all worked and as we left I was allowed to take several free samples of the post cards. Many were photos of the local area while others were of the joke variety.
..........Possibly the first time I became interested in girls, was with one of the Frost twins who lived on Ipswich Road. Being in my class at school I got to know them quite well. Their Father was also the local vicar in Stowmarket. They all lived just up the road from the Stowmarket Swimming Pool, and Bridge Street, almost next door to Darren Barnard.
..........Jenny and Christine were both good-looking girls, but were as different as chalk and cheese. However, it was Christine who interested me and I wanted to go out with her. Along with other boys and girls from around the area we would all play in their very large vicarage gardens. Its size and vegetation made it ideal for games like Hide and Seek. Then there was the old stable building that adjoined the side of the house. This was where we all usually ended up playing, especially when it was cold or raining. Playing the game of hide and seek was usually a good indicator as to who was trying to go out with who. It stood out a mile when the same couple were constantly being found together. It was also an indicator that told other would be suitor to stay away, that this person was already spoken for. Although thinking back I’m sure that most of the time the boys were trying to pick up girls, they did not have a clue what else was going on around them. I do know that I was constantly trying to end up with Christine, but somehow it did not always seem to work out that way and anyway there were far too many better looking guys around than me.
..........I don’t think an official boy-girl friendship was ever announced between us, but I did like Christine very much.  Maybe it was all one sided on my part. I’m not even sure if she knew my puppy love feeling towards her, after all we were only attending primary school at the time. Maybe I kept it all to myself because like I’ve said earlier. I was always very self conscious of the scar on my top lip and worried that it made me look ugly. By a strange twist of fate, the Nursery on Lockington Road where I spit my lip open a few years earlier was just over the road from where the Frost’s lived. Even at that early age I was wondering if I was going to be left on the shelf as they say. I used to worry that even if I ever did manage to get a friendship going with a girl, I would possibly lose her at the first hint of a better looking guy who showed an interest.
..........Although much later I did change my opinion of Jennifer and at one time tried to take her out, but she was having nothing to do with me and declined my so called offer and went off with somebody else. In the end, I ended up with neither girl, but I always stayed on good terms with both of them. I’ve often wondered what happen to them when they moved away from the area in 1959 owing to their Fathers calling.
..........While asleep one night a very loud explosion suddenly awakened me, as the bedroom was all lit up with a red glow. I then heard voices outside my bedroom window. So I got up to have a look towards Stowmarket to see the whole town looking like it was bathed in a red glow. A Hawker Hunter jet fighter from R.A.F Wattisham and belonging to the famous Black Arrows Display Team had crashed near Preston Hill. This caused a lot of excitement. Next day I cycled up to have a look and picked up a small piece of wreckage as a souvenir. Boy with the thousands of people there if everybody took a piece there would not be much left for the experts to put together to find the fault. However, I never knew this, at my age all I saw was a large hole in the ground and wreckage everywhere. Apparently, two planes had touched their wings while flying in close formation. The other one crashed up at Creeting St Mary somewhere. Lucky both pilots parachuted to safety. Over the years, there were several more crashes around our area. One came down near Upper Combs near the Tannery, but the pilot this time was not so lucky being burnt to death in the wreckage. As a footnote, the “Black Arrows” had been given the name, because of the arrow formation they flew and were painted black. Later they became known as the “Red Arrows” and thrilled crowds all over the world for twenty-five years, but the planes were changed to Hawks and painted red.
..........One Sunday Mr Taylor, our old neighbour from Thorny View, invited me to go for a ride with him and his two children David and Neville in his car. I cannot remember if it was a Ford, Austin or Wolsey, although I can slightly remember that it either had an eight or a ten on the radiator cap. This was the first time I had ever ridden in a car. We drove to Framlingham it was about a twenty mile round trip. We had to stop twice for minor repairs under the bonnet while on the way home. Luckily Mr Taylor was a mechanic by trade and worked at Pikes Garage at Combs Ford. How things have changed, today people drive thousands of miles without ever looking under the bonnet, while others never even service their vehicles and they still seem to keep going.
..........The trip was an eye opener for me seeing things that were still new and unexplained. Just outside of Framlingham we witnessed a bunch of guys playing Quoits, which is not a game you see played very much of today. The men were pitching horseshoes or steel rings about twenty feet to a peg sticking out of a mud square. In those days the game was very popular and usually played behind a pub.
..........Summer holidays from school were usually very hot. We always seemed to get a lot of continual sun in those days. I was starting to use the local swimming pool on a regular basis I think a season ticket at that time cost about five shillings and six pence. I would also do a lot of sun bathing by the side of the pool and I always had a good tan, plus I also enjoyed the swimming. I had started swimming for the local club and swimming turned out to be the only sport that I would excel in. Over the future years I became very good, even if I do say so myself, mind you I should add that I was not the best.
..........I always remember how I learnt to swim, it must have been back when I was about five years old we used to try and dare each other to jump into deeper and deeper water. On this particular occasion I was with David Taylor. The pool was three foot deep at one end and nine foot six inches deep at the other. At the shallow end I could stand on the bottom and have my shoulders above the water. We would try walking into deeper and deeper water, to see who could go the furthest. I would have the water level to the height of my bottom lip. In trying to better this, we also started running down the side of the pool from the deep end and jumping in at the shallow end. Seeing who could jump into the deeper water, once again trying to better each other. I completed one of my jumps only to find that with my feet on the bottom, the water was above my eyes. Well somehow I managed to jump up and down, breathing as I bobbed up above the water line, until I finally reached the side of the pool. I think I was only about three feet away from the side at the time, but it seemed like a mile. Due to this incident, rather than be scared, I actually learnt to swim.
..........Dad and Mum would go out to friend’s houses for tea and later they would play cards. One person I remember visiting was Joan Turner who lived in Valley View. Before we even got to the house Dad would lay down the ground rules to me. I would not be allowed go round the tea table having a cake from every single plate, I would just choose a couple and be satisfied with that. I would not dare go against Dad’s wishes as over the years he had given me several good hidings with a leather belt, for different things that I done wrong and by Golly it used to hurt. Mum would always try to stop him and a big argument would then develop, ending with me being sent to my room for the rest of the day, with no tea. Upon reflection, I don’t think it did me any harm and certainly taught me right from wrong. Those rules have got me where I am today, so no regrets and no complaints.
..........A very silly thing I did one day was while Dad was reading a national newspaper front-page story, about a gang of boys in London. Who were playing up amongst a load of passengers on the top of a Double Decker bus, I just said, “I bet they had a good laugh about that", well Dad blew his top. He did not think much of my sense of humour and said they were a bunch of hooligans and that we should not encourage things like that. It got a little bit too heated and ended with me getting a hiding over the whole incident. Looking back I deserved it and my sense of humour had gotten me into trouble once again, as it did on many occasions during the coming years.
..........1953 was the end of an era, King George VI died and his daughter Elizabeth took over the throne. Peoples principles started to change, parents were allowing their kids more and more freedom. Rock and Roll Records were arriving from the good old USA. Although I was very young it was still a good time to live through, I think this was the start of what later became known as the swinging sixties.
..........Another incident that happened was when Edmond Hilary became the first man to reach the top of Mt Everest and return. Our school at Combs Ford was allowed to go to the Regal Cinema to see the event on film and amazingly it was all in colour. That was new as well, until then most films had always been in black and white. Mum usually allowed me to go to the pictures occasionally on Saturday afternoons.
..........The Coronation was on the 2nd June and I was in my last year at the primary school. There were no TV's around in those days, but one was installed at the Stowmarket Secondary Modern School and pupils were allowed to go and see the Queen being crowned. Some of my older friends who were already attending this school, like David Taylor, Clive Barnard and Terry Mayes took me along with them. This being a good chance to see the school I would soon be attending. We had to stand at the back of the main hall and there must have been five hundred other children out in front of me. The TV would only have had a fourteen-inch screen. Therefore as you can imagine I couldn’t really see much, plus the reception and picture in those days was also very poor. All I can remember seeing is lots of white dots on the screen that resembled snow, In fact I went home and told my Mother that it was snowing where the Queen got crowned.
..........The Coronation also meant big street parties, every street organised their own celebrations. Poplar Hill got together and a fancy dress parade was arranged and I went dressed up as a tramp. Mum borrowed an old clay pip from a Mr Lummes who she was looking after at the time, having been employed by the local council, home help service. Tables were laid out in the street for all the children and houses were decorated with flags etc. That day we all had a good time. Then all the children were given a packet of sweets that was placed inside a special edition Coronation mug, I still have mine.
..........Sitting in class one day Mrs Knight's was showing us how to make paper flags, not very big ones, just six or seven inches long by four inches high. We would then fix the flag to a small stick with drawing pins. I think that it was for the Conquering of Everest or the Queen’s Coronation, or maybe it was for the street party or something. I not sure but it was definitely around May 1953, because that’s when all three events took place. Anyway, one of my classmates Peter Norris, do not ask me how but somehow he managed to swallow his three drawing pins. Boy did this course a stir, I know we should not laugh, but this was my sense of humour starting to develop. I think we even did some drawings of him, like x-rays with the drawing pins going down his throat or windpipe. Anyway, he was sent to the doctors, although not much could be done for him in those days. So everybody played the waiting game while they passed through his system. Came the day when his Mother eventually turned up at the school to see the teacher. A loud, and I do mean a loud, cheer went up as we were all informed that they had all successfully passed through his body and reappeared with no harm done. From that day on I always called him Pins.
..........During the summer holiday, my mother took a job picking apples on Westerndarts farm, at Little Blakenham. The farm was located near Auntie Queenies house, where I was born. As she was also working, it was a good chance for me to play with Ivan and David my cousins. While our Mothers were picking the fruit all day, we boys would run around the trees and buildings playing with all the other kids from the area. This was the second time I took notice of a girl, I cannot remember her name, but she lived at Little Blakenham almost next door to Ivan. Not a lot happened between us, we just played together, but I do remember that I thought she was very good looking girl. Don’t believe I even stole a kiss from her.
..........That summer Mum bought me a Pekinese puppy from somebody living in Needham Market. Apart from the dog that ate the family joint a few years earlier and we only had him for about three to four days, this was the first real pet I ever had. It was a full pedigree dog and lived for about fourteen years. I called her Judy although her official registration name was Yew Ming. She was a beautiful dog and I still have the original pedigree papers and kennel club magazine somewhere recording her registration.
..........As was usual that Christmas the family once again gathered at Nana’s house, where there was a big decorated Christmas tree, and plenty of trimmings hanging in the front room, to encourage the children to join in with the fun and games. By early evening Father Christmas arrived at the front door to give all the children a present. However, this was the year I suddenly realised that Uncle John was missing from the party.
..........While Father Christmas was handing out his parcels to each child, I could not help myself and started asking very loudly, where’s Uncle John? Suddenly Dad clipped my ear and told me to shut up. He went on to tell me that many of the smaller children at the party still believed in Father Christmas and that I should not spoil their fun. It’s funny but I was still a little confused about the subject. I think I had worked it all out but so far my parents had not verified my findings. I think I even got Ivan a clip around the ears as well. Because I shouted out to everyone that he was looking up Auntie Dorothy’s dress as she was sitting on a very low settee. Ivan has never forgiven me for this and still reminds me of it at every opportunity.
..........Nana would have fun with all the family by placing small balls of cotton wool and nuts in her sausage rolls and mince pies. She would also organise games that were all played to music. That was supplied by Nana's old hand wind up gramophone in the corner. I would change the needles as usual and do all the winding up, while Auntie Betty would select the records. Two of the favourite games was musical chairs and pass the parcel.
..........Dad bought his first TV later that year, it being the first in our street. What a novelty that turned out to be. It did not come on until about 4.45pm in the afternoon and was in black and white, with a very poor picture quality. It was manufactured by Murphy and had a very large cross Ariel attached to the chimney stack on the roof of the house.
..........Stannards, the local electrical shop tried three different manufacturer’s brands of television sets before they found one that worked in our area. Not like now-a-days most sets will go anywhere and even without an Ariel.
..........A good reason for having the first TV was that when the annual FA Football Cup Final came around, everybody would want to come and watch it. Dad would invite all his friends around and we would all pack into the small front room. After the match was over most would give me a two-shilling piece on their way out, Dad bought the set, I got the cash not bad eh, the entrepreneur was on his way.
..........I also remember some of those early programs, Muffin the Mule, Bill and Ben the Flowerpot Men. There were also many nature shows, like Armand and Miceiller Dennis in Africa and Hans and Lottie Hass with their Under Water documentaries.
..........Early 1954, turned out to be a very cold and a snowy winter, lots of sledge riding and snowball fights with the boys from our local gang. However, when it all started to melted, it also rained very heavily and we had some of the worst floods the area had seen for many many years. All of Combs Ford allotments and Pikes garage were under water and flooded. People could not get through to work and so I spent a lot of time in doors. If I did venture out I had to be very careful I dare not get my feet wet, as I would get a hiding from Dad when he got home from work. A wet foot was one of his pet hates, but sadly it was something I could not help getting, I just loved playing in water.
..........The weather was so severe that in the seaside towns of Felixstowe and Clacton many lives were lost when the flooding coincided with very high tides, strong winds and surges coming down the North Sea. I believe that the Canvey Islands in the Thames River were completely flooded with great loss of life.
..........To the amazement of the local people of Stowmarket, the Stramit Company located at the bottom of Creeting Road hill finally started to rebuild their straw storage barn. I say finally because the site had lain derelict for several years. A second surprise for us was that the company had purchased the very large steel arches that had once lined and decorated the Mall in front of Buckingham Palace back in May 1953 for Queen Elizabeth’s Coronation. The town’s people were constantly visiting the site with their cameras and the whole project became the subject of gossip around the town for many weeks. It was the size of the Coronation Arches that people found awe inspiring. The completed barn looked enormous especially when you tried to compare it with the first one that had burnt down a couple of years earlier and we had thought that was big, although I believe it had started life as a hanger on an old air field somewhere.
..........Bicycle track racing was a big craze during most summer holidays. During this time, I would spend a lot of time with David and Neville Taylor in their Fathers shed making up track racing bikes. Most of the parts we usually found at the local rubbish tip coming from people not wanting their old bicycle frames. All we needed was a frame, two wheels, tyres, a seat and track racing handle bars, no need for brakes. Somehow, we always managed to find the parts, so it did not cost us money we did not have.
..........We built a track on some waste land at the back of Valley View Estate, behind Terry and Rodney Mayes house, but we went one better, it was not just an oval track. Ours was built with shallow jumps and pits, so you had to be good to win a race on our track. I can’t believe how far the sport of bicycle track racing has come since those early days. However, we might have been the innovators of the jumps.
..........Needham Market council owned a proper cinder race track, oval in shape and built next to the local Gas Works and Railway Station. Ricky Sparks from Upper Combs was one of the top racers at that time.
..........Racing on cinders played havoc if you fell over, cinders and skin do not mix. However, the Valley View track was a made of dirt, although after a rain soaking, it turned to mud. I like to think we invented cycle cross racing, basing it on motorcycle scrambles at that time, that we all loved to visit whenever we got the chance. However, that was with Motor Bikes, these things were leg powered and really took it out of you while you were trying to push those pedals around. It was a sport in which we all took part and all of us enjoyed it, even though we received lots of cuts and bruises and usually went home all covered in mud. I forgot to also mention that our tyres were not blown up with air. Not wanting to always be repairing punctures we stuffed the inside of the tyre with grass. Wow that word has a different meaning today doesn’t it?
Question. What’s it like ridding on grass.
Answer.    Don’t know I’ve never tried it.