Billiards, Bombers and Bikes. ( Part 3)

I consider myself lucky. I’ve heard horror stories of kids being evacuated and ending up with a horrible family who bullied and abused them, but my experience was delightful.

I was sent to stay with Mister and Misses Chivers. They were good, honest, kind, people. They were in their mid-fifties and had two sons. Donald, who was eighteen and still lived with them, and Alfie, who was much older and married and lived just a few streets away. He was a carpenter.

Mrs Chivers was a member of the choir at the local Methodist church and I went with her to church every Sunday morning and evening. She was a real “country woman” and a fabulous cook. She could make a lovely meal even with our limited rations.

Mister Chivers wasn’t with us very much. He was an expert in the use of reinforced concrete and was away a lot of the time either in Cornwall or Scotland helping in the construction of Royal Naval Air Force bases. He was an interesting man. Midsomer Norton was a coal mining town, part of the Mendip Coal field. From an early age he’d worked down the pit, finally rising to an “overseer”. Some years before the war he left the pit and entered the construction industry. His hobby was keeping budgerigars which he kept in a large aviary attached to the side of the cottage. I never realised that Budgies could live outside in all weathers. Before then the only budgie I’d ever seen was in a small cage on a stand in someone’s front room back in London. He also had an interesting “party piece”. He could walk all the way round the kitchen table upside down on his hands. It was hilarious.

My first Christmas away from home in 1939, I stayed with the Chivers family. No one knew what was likely to happen in London so the decision was taken that I shouldn’t go home. Dad realised that a bicycle would be essential for a boy out in the country and sent me down a brand new bike with three gears. My best mate was Ron Ryan. The two of us would cycle everywhere. We would go to Bath, Wells and we even got as far as Bristol once, over twenty miles away!

Despite the strict rules, Ron had a girlfriend named Margaret. She lived in a nearby village called Paulton. This was great news as her dad owned the local Fish and Chip shop. I had a girlfriend called Joan, sadly her dad didn’t own the local sweetshop or we’d have hit the jackpot.

Midsomer Norton was never actually bombed during the war, but the sirens went off frequently as German bombers passed overhead on their way to Bristol. Poor Mrs Chivers was of a somewhat nervous disposition and would hide under the kitchen table. The Germans did on one occasion drop a couple of bombs on the nearby town of Radstock, which is only two miles away, trying to hit the railway line.

We took our French lessons in a Miners Welfare Hut. As we were leaving one afternoon our French master told us to look up. Above us was a large formation of aeroplanes. He pointed up to the sky and said. “Look boys at our wonderful RAF.” That turned out to be a big mistake. They were actually German bombers on their way to a daylight raid on Bristol. Just as we were looking up a Squadron of Spitfires attacked them and there were bullets flying everywhere. We all scrambled for cover. One of the bombers was hit and started to dive with smoke coming out of its tail. The crew bailed out. One of them came down in a field not far from where we were standing. We followed members of the home guard and the local Police who ran to capture him. He was very young and absolutely terrified. He obviously thought he was going to be shot. Actually, he was taken to Midsomer Police Station, locked up and given a cup of tea.

Ron and I were always doing something. Although it was against the rules we spent a lot of time at the local Billiard Hall and became quite prolific at snooker. Friday nights were our favourites, that’s when we had the “Friday night Club”. The boys from Highbury would meet up at the High School. We would either watch silent films or the older boys would perform sketches. One of them, Ted Cast, later became a professional actor and appeared in a number of British war films in a supporting role. Whenever we had a concert you could guarantee that our Sports Masters wife would sing. She had a formidable bosom and always sung “Softly Awakes my heart”. Our Maths master was Norman Dequincy Dodds (what a name!) and his song of choice was always “Take a Pair of Sparkling Eyes.”

School holidays were eagerly awaited. My Dad would send me the fare and I would come home by train. The Air raids were still on but for some reason I had no fear. The back room of our house in Union Square had been turned into a shelter and that’s where we all gathered when the sirens went off.

Our school had three agricultural camps on Exmoor in the summer. I spent part of the summer holidays at one of them near the village of Simonsbath. We would work on the farms haymaking or doing whatever jobs the farmers wanted doing. At nights we slept in tents, six or eight in each. The village had a trout stream running through it and there was a very deep pool where we all used to swim. The story of the village is that a highwayman called Simon used to take his baths in the pool and that’s where the village got its name. No matter what the weather, the pool was always freezing!

After the working holidays I would go back to London to be with Mum and Dad for a while then back to Midsomer Norton. The first couple of years at Midsomer seemed to fly by. We settled into a routine of study, play and then back to London for the various school holidays.

But by 1942 Mum wasn’t well. She was becoming increasingly nervous and ill with the continued air raids. I was never told directly but I think dad thought she was heading for a nervous breakdown. He decided it would be best for her to get away from London. Before the war we had always taken our holidays in Newquay, Cornwall and had become good friends with a number of people there. One such lady was Mrs Morris. So in 1942 Mum moved down to Cornwall to stay with Mrs Morris. Poor dad moved into Bishopsgate Police Station. It must have been an enormous financial strain on dad, as he had to pay Mrs Morris for Mums keep and he always sent money to Mrs Chivers to help her with my keep as well. He didn’t have to, as the government gave her a small amount of money for taking me in. But he thought it was his duty to help out. He was a good man was dad.

So when the summer holidays came, I went straight down to Newquay to be with Mum. Dad would join us later. It was the best summer I’ve ever had.