Ch.4 - Ken, Joan and growing up

When I arrived at Waterloo Station, couldn’t find mum so caught the train to Twick. (Twickenham) Had to wait outside the house, popped in to see Ada. Mum turned up a couple of hours later. Dad was with her too. He had come on leave. I didn’t get told off too much for not waiting at Waterloo. I suppose they were relieved to find me safe and sound

I started going to the senior school Orleans, met up with Roy Daniels, from then on we became firm mates. I spent more time away from school than ever.

The war was coming to an end; we had a scary time with the buzz bombs or V1 rockets. They had a distinctive sounding motor that would cut out. Then silence for a few minutes then BANG.(The V2 rockets were forerunners to the space age that followed). You didn’t hear them coming till they exploded—-.

By this time Sister Joan had married her soldier from Woking, Surrey, and moved to that area to live. Roy and I and a couple of other boys would go around together spending summer evenings walking along the toe path along the River Thames from Twick to Richmond. Sometimes we would go ice-skating at the rink in Richmond. Buy an ice cream and walked back. We just liked the walk by the river. Of course we always kept an eye out for the girls we could pick up. One time Roy and I crossed the Richmond Bridge to the other side of the river, and then we walked back towards Twick to catch the ferry. We reached the point the ferry left from-too late. The last ferry had gone. So if we didn’t want to walk all the way back then it was to swim across. One problem, Roy could not swim. We found a car tyre inner tube; some kids must have forgotten or thrown it away. It was a bit floppy. Much of the air was missing. Roy who was willing to sit in the tyre holding all our clothes even after I warned him that if the tyre collapsed and he went into a panic I would leave him to sink or swim, as I had been told how a drowning man would hold on to anyone close, and take the person trying to help drown to the bottom as well. So the plan was, if the tyre packed up I would tow Roy and I would keep him up as long as he didn’t struggle. Well we made it to the other side okay.

The River Thames was a good source of entertainment for us. We could hire a rowboat for an hour or two. On a nice Sunday afternoon we would go fishing and camping along the embankment. We also had the movies on Saturday morning. Flash Gordon the space traveller was a favourite or Hop-a-long Cassidy, the cowboy. The billiard halls were okay at times, but costs money and it wasn’t possible to sneak in, like the back door of the picture house.

 School was better, not so many thumbs around the ear. It was bending over for 6 of the best. I kept out of trouble most of the time when I was there, but at least I was only punished for misbehaviour, not because I couldn’t do the lesson. One teacher at Orleans taught me to appreciate classical music; our afternoon lesson consisted mainly of listening to the more popular pieces of the classics, concertos et cetera. The same teacher told us men could never go to the moon as even the fastest aeroplane would take years to get there. He didn’t think of the rockets that were made into flying bombs.

But the war was coming to an end. VE night came, all us kids of Lion Road and Lion Avenue

We had a great party in the middle of the street. Tables, chairs and decorations, road closed with a barrier to traffic, the grownups came out with all kinds of good things, tinned peaches jellies stuff that they had been hoarding away for a special occasion. That valuable ration book coupons had been handed over for, and that night a big bonfire in the middle of the street, dancing and singing. Thinking about the bonfire it would have been classified as highly dangerous so close to the houses now. Probably people were soused and use to seeing fires and burning buildings they were so blasé, a controlled fire they had lit themselves instead of Hitler’s bombers. Although those war years as a kid I’d had fun. Victory parades were quite regular. We would dress up. Boys generally borrowed girl’s cloths and make up, girls tried to look like boys or the unusual. People used lots of imagination to get results.

All of those army tanks, men and women in uniform, fighter planes and paraphernalia of war. It was exciting growing up in those war years.

I had got to know an old man who was a night-watchman on the roadwork’s that was being done at the top of our road. Little did I know he was an old friend of dad’s. He always wore a bowler hat and across his waistcoat was a big pocket watch chain, a shirt with no collar, but a bright red kerchief, and boots on his feet, some character I must say. He had a hut with a fireplace made out of a round drum stuck with holes fuelled with Coke. This fire was situated just outside the 3 sided hut, the front of the hut wide open to the weather and the night. I was allowed to stay out all night and sleep in the hut. Mealtimes were good, sausages cooked with jacket potatoes on the fire. A brew of tea that’s that much better boiled up in the billy slightly smoky taste, tin sweet milk, the envy of the kids up the road. They weren’t allowed, only me. Bed was the bench we sat on, blankets and old army overcoat. Great......

b2ap3_thumbnail_Grandad-Fifield.jpg

Dad was demobbed from the Army (Sitting left - in corner) he decided to work for himself as a builder. I was all of thirteen; school was a waste of time so I went to work for dad. He did brickwork and cement floors and some painting and decorating and whatever else came along. That’s where I learned some of the things. Another thing, dad was into horses for transporting stuff around. He hired a stable off a fellow named Mills. Mr Mills had quite a big section with several stables and sheds for hire. One old guy used to have his shed stacked out with wood. He sat all day splitting kindling, tiny little bundles with string. Once or twice a week,  he would get out walking his kindling round the houses. One or two rag and bone men, a greengrocer, all working the streets with their horse and carts. What a time I had listening to the stories and the colourful language they used. We had a “smart trap” a lightweight vehicle, had big wheels and high seat. We sometimes went out for a ride on a nice Sunday morning. Billy Knight came with me at times. During the week if dad needed sand or cement, I’d be sent off to collect it with the horse and cart. We had several changes of horses and cart. That was fun going to the sales market, getting up early.

Ch. 5 - Richard Coln Fifield AKA Colin - Into My T...
Ch. 3 - Richard Colin Fifield AKA Colin The Rhondd...
 

Comments 1

Already Registered? Login Here
Dick Pellek (website) on Saturday, 23 November 2013 00:19

Your father certainly left something behind for posterity. I wish more people would share the way he did.

Your father certainly left something behind for posterity. I wish more people would share the way he did.