I’m not certain of the date but one night I was taken out of bed and stood on the windowsill of the back bedroom. Ray was a baby then and Grandma and Grandpa Newman were staying with us. There was a marvellous fire in the sky; it looked so near, almost as if it was in the field next door. It was a German Zeppelin and was coming down very slowly in flames. It had been shot down by one of our planes. The next morning Grandpa took Ray in the pushchair and me walking, over to see it. It was in a ploughed field and still smouldering. What a mess! Grandpa picked up some bits and kept them for years in a box in a cabinet in their Drawing Room.
At one time early in the War we had some 3 inch AA Guns in the field next to us. I don’t think they fired the guns although the Kraut “Taubes” (A WW1 monoplane resembling from below the shape of a pigeon – Taube in German – in flight) used to come over from the Southend direction to try to bomb London. Later we had Kraut P.O.Ws working in the field, but they soon went away. In another field about half a mile away, there were three houses. Grandma and Grandpa Harries lived in one, with Daughter Rene (Irene) and youngest Son Leonard. Leonard was a Day Boy at Brentwood School and he went by train everyday. He was about three years older than me; a bit young to be my Uncle. He was Dad’s youngest Brother.
Rene was married to a chap who was in the Royal Flying Corps, I can’t remember his name (William Wood). He looked good in his uniform. He was killed late in the War. Dad’s other brothers were Ernest, who had three children: another Ernest, and Vera and Rene, and Laurie. Uncle Ernest died in the huge flu epidemic after the War, and Laurie, or Lawrence, was packed off to America years before, as were most “black sheep” of families in those days. He did reappear from time to time, but was sent back again. He did stock car racing for funds (I think that’s what he wrote!) in America until he started a fruit farm in Florida.
Anyway I am digressing.
Grandpa grew a lot of stuff. He had a lovely garden. He went up to London each day. He was manager of The Union Assurance Society of Canton, in Cornhill. When I was old enough to go to school I used to walk with him to Billericay Station; where he would give me a penny which I was supposed to save until I had enough to buy a donkey so that he could ride on it to the station!
Opposite Grandpa’s house lived a Captain in the Merchant Navy with his family. Their name was Bowles. Next to them was a family called Jolliman. They were Germans and the father was interned during the War. Anyway, Margaret Jolliman in those days was my age, and my friend. I remember one Sunday morning her Grandfather was chopping logs and he cut his thumb off! The Doctor would not see him because it was Sunday, and he should not have been working on Sunday!
The Doctor’s name was Shackleton. He was a cousin of Ernest Shackleton, the explorer. They used to go exploring together, I think because the Doctor was good with his knife. I don’t know if they were together when Ernest met up with Stanley (? Come on Dad! I think you are getting your eras and explorers mixed up! Shackleton would have been a contemporary of Scott). He was our Doctor and the one who attended Dad after he came home with his terrible abscess. He used to go on his rounds in a pony and trap. One Saturday morning he passed us in Stock Road and told us to go home because the “Taubes” were coming. The Doctor, despite his no nonsense methods was a good chap. He had to qaurterize (sic) me one day because Chum, our dog, had taken a bite out of my face! I approached him, the dog, from over and behind when he was dozing in front of the fire. So he reacted, and there I was; having a painful job done in the Doctor’s Dining Room. He always did odd jobs in the Dining Room. One Christmas Eve I sat at the corner of the Dining Room table and had a tooth out. He was Doctor and Dentist!
The Doctor and his family lived in a large house near the Church. I knew it well because when I was old enough I used to play with his Son in the yard at the back of the house. His Son was deformed and did not lead a normal life. He had a large head which was a common thing in those days. He could not play in public or go to School, so I was delivered to the house to play with him on Saturday mornings. When I was five I started School. I had to walk to the village; the School was just over the railway bridge up the hill past the Red Lion, and was called “Miss Boughtwoods” (Can anyone confirm the name?). All the children sat in one room. We learned to write and do sums and sing songs. Most of our writing was in exercise books and we did page upon page of pothooks and hangers ( a curved, S-shaped mark). Our sums were done on slates with slate pencils. Miss Mason did most of the teaching and all the boys were in love with her! Miss Boughtwood used to walk about; her hair was done up in a bun, she wore a white high-necked blouse with long sleeves and a black skirt down to her feet. The other lady played the piano. I do not remember her name but she used to come to our house on Saturday mornings to teach me the piano. I did not get on very well. I had lessons on-and-off for about eight years. I knew the scales and could read music, and even managed to play “Sweet & Low” (see link), but that was about all.
When Dad came home from the War and had recovered from his trials and tribulations, we spent a large part of our time in the garden. He was a great gardener! We had a marvellous bonfire one night. I don’t know which year it was but coal was officially rationed so Dad and a friend ordered ten tons at the pit head and it came down from Newcastle to Billericay by rail. They had to get it moved from the yard somehow, and because in those days Inspectors used to come round and inspect your coal stocks, he decided to bury his 5 tons. He dug a large pit at the bottom of the garden, tipped it in. All well and good, until one dark night the World appeared to be on fire! The bonfire that he had made at the bottom of the garden that Sunday had come to life! It was a beautiful blaze! I don’t know how much he lost but I suppose what he had left was worth it. Coal at that time was 1/- (one shilling) per cwt (one hundredweight = 50.8kg; 20cwt to the ton) at the pit head, and transport charges very reasonable.