Ivor's Insight

Ivor's Insights Part 26

INSIGHTS ON IVOR
 
Part Twenty Six
 
     My decision to leave the American Embassy proved to be a good move because in January 1953 the ex General and Allied Supreme Commander during World War Two, Dwight David Eisenhower, was inaugurated as the new President of the United States of America. One of the first decisions his new administration made was to have a monetary purge by cutting back on staff levels at many of the US Embassies around the world. This drastic move included the Embassy in London where the last three people to join the communications department were made redundant. As I was one of those last three it was very fortuitous that I jumped ship before I was pushed.  Moving from working in Grosvenor Square, a modern upmarket area of London was quite different to working in the City of London, an older and more sedate area but one steeped in Banking history and world famous as the Financial Capital of the world.
 
   This was an area of London new to me and I enjoyed wandering around exploring such places as St. Paul’s Cathedral, the Monument, Ludgate Circus and Fleet Street.  Shell had moved into St. Helen’s Court in 1914 and decided to make it their London Headquarters. It was quite an imposing building and I remember entering the marbled grand entrance of the building for the first time to be greeted by a very upright uniformed commissionaire. I also noted one of the walls proudly displayed a long roll of honour commemorating the names of all the Shell Personnel who had lost their lives during the First World War. 
 
    My daily journey to St Helen’s Court entailed travelling on the Underground Central Line from Greenford to Bank station and walking up Threadneedle Street into Bishopgate to St Helen’s Court and entering the Shell offices. Thus began the beginning of my long 36 year career with the company.  
  
     I was made very welcome by the existing staff members, both male and female, many of them, like me, having undergone TPO training in the services or at the Post Office. Our office was a bit ‘old fashioned’ in style and furniture. Discipline was strict as was the dress code. Men wore suits, ties, with polished shoes and the ladies, who had endured the wartime lack of choice in clothes due to the rationing, which ended in 1949, welcomed the new styles which were coming onto the scene and providing them with more choices but even then they still had to dress in, what was called, ‘a quiet, dignified and tasteful manner suitable for the office environment they were working in’
 
   Another of the Shell benefits available to all the staff was just a walk away from St. Helens Court. This was a large emporium called Houndsditch Warehouse. It was a veritable Aladdin’s cave displaying a vast array of household it items, all at greatly reduced prices.
 
      By this time in my life I was a uncle three times over. Brother Bernard and his wife Joan had a daughter who they named Valerie. This was followed by my sister Lily and husband Jack who had their first child, a boy was given the Welsh name of Gareth (Gary) due to Jack being a proud Welshman. The third arrival came when my eldest brother Bert and his wife Ethel followed Bernard and Joan by also having a daughter, given the name of Elaine.   
 
   The terrible tragedies which befell the country at the latter part of 1952 were to strike again on January 31st 1953 when the east coast of England was battered by hurricane force winds and high tides bringing devastation from Lincolnshire down as far as Kent. Hundreds were killed and thousands made homeless. One report said around 100 people in Canvey Island in Essex were drowned, 500 missing and
thousands were evacuated.  In Clacton, also in Essex, holiday chalets were swamped under 12 foot of water and people, due to sheer exhaustion, were falling from the rooftops into the floodwater. Another report said twelve American servicemen were among 60 drowned in Hunstanton in Norfolk and in neighbouring Suffolk boats were rowed into a church to rescue 40 trapped children.
 
   Serial killer John Christie was arrested and hanged at the Old Bailey charged with the murders of at least eight women, one of them being his wife. These killings he carried out at his home 10 Rillington Place in the London area of Notting Hill. All of the victims Christie buried in the garden of his home. This horrific and gruesome story made history and was made into a film (1971) where the part of Christie was portrayed by Richard Attenbough.
 
   Fortunately the year wasn’t all gloom and tragedy. On the sporting field one of Britain’s all time greatest footballers Stanley Matthew (later to become the first footballer to become a Knight) won his first winners medal in the Cup Final. In a thrilling match against Bolton Wanderers at Wembley Stadium, with Bolton leading 3-1 with only 20 minutes to go, Matthews turned on a display of such brilliance that Blackpool scored three more goals and finished as 4-3 winners. This virtuoso performance by Matthews was so outstanding that the match became for ever known as ‘The Matthews Final’
 
     Just as Matthews had never won a FA Cup winners medal before, the Champion Jockey for many years, Gordon Richards, had never won the Derby race before. So it was only fitting that he should share Matthews’s glory by finally winning his first Derby riding a horse called Pinza.  Just when we all thought you can’t beat that along came the English cricket team who not only dramatically beat the Aussies in  the final match at the Oval when golden boy Denis Compton hit the winning run, it also meant England had regained the Ashes after 19 years. Captain of Englandwas Yorkshire’s wonderful batsman Len Hutton who also made history by being the first professional cricket player to captain England.
 
   There was great joy amongst the children of Britain in 1953 when, for the second time since the war, all confectionary (chocolate and sweets) was taken of rationing and this time it stayed off.
 
   But the biggest event of the year occurred on June 2nd when the Coronation of Queen Elizabeth II took place. The ceremony in Westminster Abbey and the street processions before and afterwards were examples of Britain at its best. Despite the miserable rainy weather the sheer pomp, pageantry and splendour of this ancient tradition was watched with pride and fascination by thousands lining the route and millions more around the world due to the wonders of Television. My parents decided that, just as we had done during the war years with our Anderson Shelter, to invite our neighbours in but this time not to share our shelter in the back garden but our television set to watch this happy event, even though in those days the pictures were in black and white.
 
    One of the best remembered sights of that day was that of Queen Salote of Tonga, who captivated everyone with her big smile, despite her open carriage filling up with the rainwater!  The vast crowds outside Buckingham Palacewere cheering and waving Union Jacks as the newly crowned Queen and Prince Philip appeared six times on the balcony in acknowledgement and gratitude to them and the crowds   stayed outside waving and cheering even when the happy couple made their final appearance at midnight. The well known, and sometimes derided,  British reserve was cast to the wind as bowler hats on umbrella’s were waved, balloons were released and along the Thames Embankment fireworks zoomed off in the night sky creating a kaleidoscope of brilliant colours which was a fitting climax to an unforgettable day in our rich and proud history. Just when we thought nothing could surpass that historic day news came through that Mount Everest had finally been conquered. New Zealander Edmund Hillary and Sherpa Tensing from Nepal, both members of Colonel John Hunt’s expedition team, had made it to the summit on May 29th.  The announcement of this historic news had been deliberately held back to make it a double celebration for the people on Coronation Day.
 
--End of Part Twenty Six -- 
 

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Ivor's Insights Part 25

INIGHTS ON IVOR
 
Part Twenty Five
 
 
      Before the RAF introduced me to the world of Teleprinters I hardly knew anything about these machines. I certainly wasn’t aware of how much they were used in the world of communications, not just in the armed services but also in civilian life. Many men and women learnt the necessary skills through the training they received through the armed services but also in civilian life with companies such as the Post Office, Western Union, Commercial Cable Company, PQ. This quick way of communicating was also used by newspapers, banking and shipping companies. This was bought home to me and many of my colleagues when one of our colleagues at Northwood was demobbed and got a job at the American Embassy in London putting his Teleprinting skills to work and getting paid £7 per week, which in the 1950’s was a good wage. There was one subtle difference, the American system didn’t use Teleprinters as we know them, their machines were called Teletype machines which are different in design and layout but basically do the same thing and don’t pose any problems adapting to them.
 
   Upon learning this information I decided that when I was demobbed I would also apply for a job at the American Embassy in London.  This I subsequently did and was successful in being invited to the Embassy for an interview.
 
   Dressed in my best suit and hair beautifully Brylcreamed I marched through the portals of this smart modern building in Grosvenor Square and was ushered into a room where I faced my inquisitor. He was a very pleasant and polite man who had my job application form on his desk. He asked me various questions about my upbringing and interests. When I told him that in my youth I had been a member of the Boy’s Brigade he looked a bit startled. At this point I should inform you that this meeting was taking place in June 1952, a time when the threat of Communist spies infiltrating America was causing widespread panic and unrest. A prominent Senator by the name of Joseph McCarthy was conducting massive witch hunts throughout the country. So the fact that I had been in the Boys Brigade solicited this worrying question from my interviewer ‘What is this Boy’s Brigade, some kind of group activity to overthrow the Government’?   He had never heard of the organisation but when I explained it was no different to the Boy Scout movement he was placated. My application was accepted and I started working at the American Embassy in June 1952.  On reflection afterwards I thought it’s a good job I never mentioned the Mohawks, Zulus, Eskimos and the Hottentots at my interview!
 
   Once I had settled in at the Embassy I quickly adapted to the Teletype machines and I enjoyed the new working environment. We had a nice mixture of British operators backed up by some Americans handling all the clerical desk work.  I must say the Americans were very easy to work with and generous, dishing out goodies especially at Christmas when they surprised us all by coming into the wire room (the name for where the Teletype machines were located) loaded with cigarettes, chocolates, candies and a bottle or two of bourbon, gin, rum, beer, anything to ensure everyone had a very ‘Merry’ Christmas.  But surprisingly this job wasn’t to last long for me. This quick change came about because one of my new colleagues at the Embassy had previously worked for Shell in London and the stories he told me of how good a company they were to work for made me think. The reader will immediately think, if that is so then why on earth did he leave?  I’m afraid for the life of me I cannot recall the answer to that obvious question. All I can tell you for certain is that Shell offered free meals, sport facilities and best of all a very solid pension scheme. So, although I enjoyed my time at the Embassy I decided perhaps in the long run I would be better off with Shell so at the end of December 1952 I said ‘so long, it’s been good to know you’ to all my ‘buddies’ at the Embassy and joined the Shell Petroleum Company (as it was called in those days) at their London Headquarters in St. Helens Court, Bishopsgate.
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         
---End of Part Twenty Five ---                                                                              
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             
 
 
 
 
 

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Ivor's Insights Part 24

 INSIGHTS ON IVOR

Part Twenty Four

   The year of 1951 also saw the Peak District being designated as Britain ’s first National Park. This was followed in the same year by the Lake District and Snowdon receiving National Park status. The man who bought Radar – Radio, Detection and Ranging - to the world, Sir Robert Watson-Watt was, quite rightly, awarded fifty thousand pounds in 1951 by a grateful Government. The whole world owes a massive debt to this Scotsman born 1892 in Brechin and died 1973 in Inverness .

   This was also the year when the Government abolished Identity Cards which for security reason had been introduced at the outbreak of the war in 1939. Cheese rationing was cut to one ounce per person per week but Tea rationing ended much to the delight of the whole nation. On July 5th Central London ’s last tram made its final journey from Woolwich to New Cross. I remember when as a small boy, being taken by my parents, on the trams when visiting my Mothers sister and family in Peckham.  Tram riding was a big novelty for me and my brothers on this noisy but reliable mode of transport.

    A shock came when the then Chancellor of the Exchequer, Hugh Gaitskill, announced there would be a Prescription charge for Dentures and Spectacles. This charge, which was in contradiction of the National Health pledge of free medical treatment, was said to be due to the financial demands relevant at the time. This surprise act upset Aneurin Bevan, the man who introduced the National Health Service in 1948, so much that he resigned his post as Minister of Labour in protest.

   Meanwhile in London’s West End Agatha Christie’s play ‘The Mousetrap’ starring  husband and wife team Richard Attenborough (later Lord Attenborough – 1923-2014) and Sheila Sim (1922-2016) opened at the Ambassadors theatre on November 25th1951  It switched to St. Martin’s theatre in 1974. Now, in 2017 over 66 years later, it is still running at St. Martins London, obviously not with the same actors and certainly not with the same cheese!

   The next year, 1952 started with a shock when on February 6th King George VI died peacefully in his sleep. Princess Elizabeth and Prince Philip quickly returned from their holiday in Kenya . The much loved King, who reluctantly became King when his brother King Edward VIII abdicated in 1936, was King throughout the Second World War, died from lung cancer aged 56 lay in state in Westminster Hall where thousands of the general public paid their respects. He was buried on February 15th in St. George’s Chapel, Windsor Castle .

   On March 28th 1952 the RAF decided the country could manage without me and I was duly released from my two years National Service and returned to Civvy Street . 

My parents were delighted and somewhat proud of the fact that all of their five children had served the country in the armed forces. My father had of course served in the Army throughout the First World War and somehow survived the horrors of the Western front.  My eldest brother Bert was next,  serving with the Eighth Army at El Alamein in the Middle East in World War Two, my Sister Lily joined the ATS and helped defend London by assisting on the Ack Ack guns, also throughout WW2, my next brother Bernard, who as a member of the Parachute Regiment was sent to Palestine during the troubles there in 1947, my brother David, who despite hating most of his time in the Army, at least did his National Service duty and lastly it was my turn to leave mother and home to complete the circle. Lily, David and I were lucky in so much as at least we didn’t get sent overseas to a war zone although I was extremely lucky not to be sent to Korea .  I remember my Dad saying no one could say our family hadn’t done their bit.

It was a bitter sweet moment when I was demobbed and had to leave all my friends at Northwood. You meet so many different characters and personalities, men and women from all sorts of backgrounds, with different standards and opinions, some not compatible with yours but others completely in harmony with your views. Of course this then makes it all the harder to say goodbye but there are many who you never really forget.  

    After a brief time at home I returned to my old job, shoe repairing at the Express Shoe Repairs shop in Greenford.  I found it difficult to settle back to this life again. My experience was nothing compared to thousands, even millions of those who had been away fighting overseas, many coming home traumatized with injuries, physical and mental, from their experiences whether on battlefields or as prisoners of war. The hardships and agonies they and their families endured trying to readjust to their earlier lifestyle, had become something foreign and never to be quite the same again. It certainly made me realise how lucky I was.  After a few weeks at the shop I spoke to my boss and told him how I felt. He said he fully understood my feelings and wouldn’t try to dissuade me if I wanted to leave. He wished me luck for the future and I left the world of cobbling behind, although I must say my ability to repair shoes was useful in my early days of marriage when money was a bit tight.

   The latter part of 1952 bought a series of disasters in Britain .  In August the people of Devon suffered when heavy rain broke the banks of East and West Lyn rivers. The flood water hit the resort of Lynmouth killing 36 people and forcing many others to leave their homes. The next month another tragedy struck when 28 spectators died when a prototype jet plane crashed at the Farnborough Air Show. As if that wasn’t enough the agony continued in October when 102 people died as a Perth to London express and a northbound train from Euston crashed into a stationary commuter train at Harrow and Wealdstone station. Finally in December we were subjected to dense fog which enveloped London . This ‘smog’ as it was called only lasted a few days but it was estimated that its noxious poisonous fumes indirectly killed around 4000 people, particularly the elderly.

 

---End of Part Twenty Four —

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Ivor's Insights Part 23

INSIGHTS ON IVOR
Part Twenty Three
   Another pleasant memory of Northwood I recall was the number of pretty WAAF’S stationed there. There was one particular girl who stood out as the most attractive and all the lads fancied her but fortunately for me, or perhaps it was just her good taste!, I was the lucky one she chose to take her out. The first date we had was when I took her to a party being held for one of our colleagues who was celebrating his birthday.
 Many at the party quite naturally over indulged in two many glasses of the old John Barleycorn, including my date, which induced a slightly muddled mind risking a lowering of defences and willpower.  But ever the true gentleman and not wishing to spoil any future dates I escorted her safely back to camp for which she was ever grateful.  Talking of drinking too much brings back another memory of Northwood and a man we had in our billet who took a drink from a bottle of beer before getting into bed and then another gulp or two upon awakening the next morning. 
   We were very fortunate at Northwood having a football pitch and I remember we also had two young cricketers also billeted on the camp. One was medium fast bowler Alan Moss who played for Middlesex and England and Jim Parks who followed his father, also Jim, into the Sussex team. Jim the younger was not only a brilliant batsman playing for England in over forty Test matches but later in his career he switched to being a wicket keeper where his natural athletic ability was given full reign. His sporting prowess also extended to football and I shall never forget the match we played when I played in goal, because no one else wanted to do the job. I was doing alright until I saw Jim Parks bearing down at great speed towards me with the ball firmly at his feet and the look of a man determined to score a goal. That was the moment when it dawned on me why nobody else wanted to be in goal. It would be nice to say I saved his shot at goal but alas the ball hit the back of the net before I could get anyway near it.  He was just a naturally gifted sportsman and a joy to watch.
     The camp also had a tennis court upon which, on our days off duty, my best pal and I many fought many a duel on. It was this same pal who, with me, had a bit of a shock in the summer of 1951 when we were sent on an exercise for a few days, along with a WAAF Corporal in charge of us, to of all places, the vast Royal Naval Barracks at Chatham. You can imagine the ribbing us two RAF lads received from the Sailors and Wrens stationed there. Every time we came into sight we were greeted with calls of ‘Here
come the ‘Brylcream boys’. For those of you unfamiliar with Brylcream, let me explain, it was a very popular hair cream for men, widely advertised, and because the makers of the product sometimes used male models, who were dressed in smart RAF uniforms to increase their sales, it became normal practice amongst the general public to use that phrase whenever any RAF personnel passed by.  After a while we got used to the comment and quite enjoyed it when it came from one of the Wrens.  
      We were very well treated at Chatham and were a little sorry when the four day exercise finished and it was time for us to return to camp. The WAAF Corporal in charge of us told us to make our own way back to camp. Now as it happened, my pal lived near Wimbledon and this was the time when the annual Wimbledon Tennis Championship was in full swing so we decided this was an opportunity we couldn’t miss. So with our hair gleaming with Brylcream we headed for the Mecca of Tennis.
   I remember walking into these hallowed grounds for the first time and marvelling at the pristine condition of the grass courts. There was a feeling of excitement and anticipation in the air of what was in store for the spectators. We watched an American player called Art Larsen arriving for a practice knock up on one of the many outside courts. What surprised us was that as he approached the baseline he was not only smoking but he threw down his lighted cigarette just behind the baseline and proceeded to practice as if this was normal practice. Apparently he was an inveterate smoker but this didn’t impair his tennis ability. He made it through to the quarter finals before being knocked out. The respective winners that year were two Americans; Dick Savitt winning the Men’s title and Doris Hart the Ladies.  We were also lucky in seeing another great American player named, Budge Patty beat Swedish player Sven Davidson in an exciting match.
   Seeing Wimbledon for the first time was something I’ve never forgotten and in all my subsequent years watching this so British traditional spectacle on television brings back those fond memories from 1951.  Unfortunately we were enjoying our visit so much that we slightly overstayed our visit. The end result was that it took us longer than we thought to get back to camp. Our late arrival time back was duly recorded and the next day our Warrant Officer summoned us to his office enquiring as to the reason for our lateness. We meekly apologised and somehow talked ourselves out of it but it was a close call.
   ---End of Part Twenty Three---

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Ivor's Insights Part 22

INSIGHTS ON IVOR
Part Twenty Two
   The UK received quite a shock in 1951 when it was announced that two Foreign Office diplomats, Guy Burgess and Donald Maclean, who had been under surveillance by the Intelligence Services as suspected spies got wind of it and fled to Soviet Russia. Meeting at Cambridge University some years earlier, along with Kim Philby, they were all deeply involved in espionage, holding very left wing views of western democracy and passing secrets to the Russians. 
      By this time in my life I had passed my exams at Compton Basset and as a fully trained Teleprinter Operator (TPO) was posted to HQ Coastal Command at RAF Northwood, Middlesex. Naturally I was pleased but at the same time sorry to leave some of the other trainees.  One particular fellow I remember was a chap named Jim Kelly. The reason for this was that when our postings came through he was posted to RAF Jurby which is in the Isle Of Man. This raised a laugh because there is an old song which starts with the words ‘Has anybody here seen Kelly, K-E-Double LY’ and ends with ‘Kelly from the Isle of Man’. Obviously someone in the postings office had a sense of humour when seeing Jim’s surname.    For me RAF Northwood was a blessing, being near Greenford I could easily pop home on my days off. I remember the day those of us from Compton Basset arrived at Northwood and being confronted by a young fresh faced Officer who enquired ‘where are you chaps from’?  Upon hearing that we were Teleprinter Operators (T.P.O’s) from Compton Basset his face lit up and in a burst of unrestrained pleasure exclaimed ‘Oh, T.P.O’s from Compton Basset, Oh, jolly good show chaps’. You can imagine for days afterwards we ‘chaps’ were going around enquiring of each other ‘Where are you chaps from? and the enthusiastic reply which followed, each time uttered with more enthusiasm and additions like ‘Wizard Prang’ or ‘Chocks away’ sometimes added for good measure.
 Our Signals office was based underground on the camp and due to us working shift hours we were billeted in a separate building situated in a field a mile down the road from the camp. This enabled us to come off a night shift and get some sleep away from the hustle and bustle of life on the camp.  .
Our special billet had beds, a coal fuelled boiler in the middle of the room, a kitchen with some basic cooking facilities and bathroom.  There was a regular bus service from Watford which transported us to and from the camp. Being away from the camp in a field allowed us plenty of freedom for a kick around with a football. We had a radio in our billet and I remember we all crowded around the set one glorious night, July 10th 1951, to be precise, and listened to the commentary of a boxing match when  British fighter Randolph Turpin shook the world by beating the ‘invincible!’ American boxer Sugar Ray Robinson, one of the greatest boxers of all time, over ten pulsating rounds and became the World Middleweight Champion. Unfortunately Turpin’s triumph didn’t last long because in the return fight, held in New York later that year, Robinson got his revenge and regained his title. 
 My time spent at Northwood was the best part of my National Service. Although I came from a fairly large family, three brothers and a sister, plus spending much of my teenage days mixing with other boys in the Boys Brigade the experience of meeting and mixing with new people, men and women, with completely different backgrounds and accents was for me a wonderful learning curve.  I loved to hear the different accents. It mattered not to me whether the speaker was from any of the regions of England, Scotland, Wales or Ireland (or even Kelly from the Isle of Man!)  I was fascinated, so much so that over the years, I have tried, with some success at times, to imitate some of these different accents. My two biggest successes came when someone said my attempt at a Scottish accent was ‘more Scottish than Angus Mactavish’ (not his real name but I won’t divulge his real identity).  On another occasion, I had to telephone a Senior Officer to give him an important message. My call was answered by his Irish wife who informed me he was out. As she couldn’t quite understand my normal accent I asked her if she might understand me better if I attempted to read the message in an Irish accent. She replied ‘Oh, yes please sir, that would be lovely’  So, bravely or foolishly, off I went in my best Irish brogue without once saying ‘Begorrah, a’tall, a’tall’  Anyway she said she understood it all and would pass it on to her husband Seamus.  I never did find out if Seamus understood it or even got the message a’tall a’tall. 
---End of Part Twenty Two—

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Ivor's Insights Part 21

INSIGHTS ON IVOR
 
Part Twenty One
 
   In May 1950 petrol rationing finally ended after 10 years. People were tearing up their petrol rationing books and dancing around their cars. The Whitsun weekend of wonderful weather saw thousands take to the roads in celebration. The next month, in typical Government fashion, they put up the price of petrol to three shillings a gallon.
The first self-service shop in Britain opened in Croydon, south London in June 1950. Sainsbury’s described this type of shopping as ‘Q-less shopping’ meaning shopping without waiting in line to be served.  Part of the aftermath of the war was a shortage of labour but fortunately this problem was greatly eased by the thousands of immigrants from the Commonwealth countries, particularly from the West Indies , who had been coming over since 1948. By the mid fifties figures showed up to three thousand per month were arriving seeking work and a new life in the UK .
   Sadly there were some famous people who died in 1950, this included authors Eric Blair, better known as George Orwell the writer of ‘1984’ and ‘Animal Farm’ fame, and George Bernard Shaw, who’s book ‘Pygmalion’ inspired the musical ‘My Fair Lady’.  At least Shaw took the advice of Scottish singer and comedian, Sir Harry Lauder who advocated everyone to ‘Keep right on to the end of the Road’, and lived to 94. Unfortunately Sir Harry couldn’t heed his own advice, and died aged 77.  
 
   On the sporting scene we saw American Budge Patty win the men’s single title at Wimbledon whilst fellow American Louise Brough took the Ladies Trophy for the third year running. Arsenal won the F.A. Cup. The golf Open championship was won by South African Bobby Locke for the second year running.  The Grand National was won by Freebooter and the Derby saw a horse named Galcador first past the post.
   Whilst there were many popular films being released such as All about Eve, Sunset Boulevard and King Solomon’s Mines,  Radio was still king in most homes with favourites like Variety Bandbox, Dick Barton – Special Agent-  Life with the Lyons (this programme starred Americans Bede Daniels, her husband Ben Lyon with their two children Barbara and Richard). Bede and Ben had endeared themselves to the British public during the Second War by not rushing back to the luxury and safety of their American home, choosing to stay in London throughout the frightening days of the Blitz, putting out a weekly comedy radio programme called Hi Gang which did a lot to raise morale.
 
   King George VI opened the restored House of Commons, which had been destroyed in an Air raid in 1941. Whilst on a completely different plane, three generations of the Bowler family attended a celebration to mark the centenary of the Bowler Hat.  
The BBC transmitted TV pictures live across the Channel from France for the first time on August 27th when a two-hour programme was sent from Calais to Dover and relayed on to London. There was only a single, two-second break during the whole transmission and reception was reported to be very good.
 
   In 1951 another record was set when Britain ’s first jet bomber, the Canberra , crossed the Atlantic to Canada in a time of 4 hours 40 minutes. On a completely different ‘plane’ in Scotland, the Stone of Scone,which had gone ‘missing’ from Westminster Abbey, was found in an abandoned Abbey near Forfar, Arbroath after a 107-day search.  
 
   The big event of the year was the Festival of Britain. This was held to mark the centenary of the Great Exhibition of 1851. As before, London was of course the main focal point but it was also celebrated, albeit in a much smaller way, throughout the country. Although the King was unwell at the time, he still accompanied Queen Elizabeth to the opening ceremony on May 4th. Despite the austerity, which still existed in Britain , the event was a showpiece for British Industry, Art and Design. It also raised the spirits of the people and gave them hope for a brighter future. Twenty-seven acres of derelict bomb weary scarred land on London ’s South Bank was transformed for the exhibition. There was a Dome of Discovery and floating, floodlit above all of this, like an exclamation mark in aluminium, was the Skylon. This structure had no visible means of support, which prompted one wag to wryly observe that it ‘symbolised Britain ’ at that time.
 
   By the time the Festival closed in September figures show that around eight and half million people had visited this innovative morale boosting spectacle. One building,  The Royal Festival Hall, was designated as the only permanent structure and it’s pleasing to record that, even today it still serves as a very popular venue for many entertaining functions. As well as working right next door to it for many years afterwards I also visited it many times including once sneaking in without a ticket (they were sold out and it was the only way I could get in to see the Chris Barber Jazz Band with special guest, American Blues and Folk Singer, Big Bill Broonzy, (that’s another story)  Down river at Battersea Park a kaleidoscope of colour in the guise of a giant fun fair was awaiting the thousands who flocked there to forget the years of austerity and rationing for a few hours and enjoyed a breath of fresh air, laughter and freedom.
 
   The General Election in October 1951 saw the youngest ever Tory candidate enter the contest. Her name was Margaret Roberts, who later made a bit of a name for herself as Margaret Thatcher and later Lady Thatcher. This election also marked the return to power of Winston Churchill as Prime Minister.
 
   Another big event which occurred in October 1951 was when Princess Elizabeth and Prince Philip undertook a tour of Canada on behalf of her father, King George VI who was too ill to travel. The Princess and the Prince flew to Montreal and embarked on their tour taking in around 60 cities and towns travelling by train, aircraft and even naval vessels. Everywhere they went they were greeted by vast welcoming crowds.
 
---End of Part Twenty One--- 
 

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Ivor's Insights Part 20

INSIGHTS ON IVOR
 
Part Twenty
 
   When our Teleprinter training started at Compton Bassett the first thing we had to learn was how to, not only type but become a touch typist. This we did on a manual typewriter with the aid of a record which provided a rhythmic beat too which we endeavoured to hit the right keys in unison. As any typist knows there are certain phrases which are used as typing exercises for learners. Phrases such as ‘Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of the party’ being probably the best well known. Another one, which is less known, used all the letters of the alphabet, a Pangram, and informed us that ‘A quick movement of the enemy will jeopardize six gunboats’. Easy you might think but just imagine this scenario. You are a complete novice learning to type and trying like mad to keep in time with endless beat emanating from the old shellac 78rpm record when the door of the classroom opens and your commanding officer enters with his subordinates in tow on a ‘Let’s see how the new recruits are getting on with their typing lessons Flight Sergeant’.  This unexpected intrusion by the Top Brass was too much for one nervous young lad. He was concentrating manfully and doing well as he warned of the danger of what can happen if you ignore what a quick movement of the enemy can do when, suddenly, he became aware of the Top Brass standing right behind him breathing down his neck. This was too much for his nervous system; resulting in him typing the letter ‘I’ instead of U in the last word of the Pangram, thereby changing it to ‘A quick movement of the enemy will jeopardize six ginboats’  Fortunately the Top Brass moved swiftly on, probably for a quick G and T themselves, and the red faced lad survived.
 
   As the camp at Compton Bassett was only about 85 miles from my Greenford home I tried sneaking off on a Friday evening and hitch hiking home. The first time a friend and I tried it the first lift we got was on an open top lorry where we froze for about an hour before we were turfed off. The next lift entailed both of us sitting in the drivers cab of a stinking diesel lorry for most of the night. There were frequent stops allowing the driver to have forty winks. The journey took all night and when I finally arrived home I went straight to bed to recover from this motoring nightmare.
 
   The next method to getting home was to take the official coach that left from the camp Guardhouse every Saturday lunch time to London and left Kings Cross on Sunday evening for the return trip. This comfortable alternative was organised by a Flight Sergeant by the name of Field in conjunction with a local coach company named Cards of Devizes and cost eighteen shillings return. This seemed a good idea until we heard of another way of getting home for a 36 hour pass. The only snag was that we had to wait until Saturday lunch time before we could head for home. So a third option was sought and found. This third option was a retrograde step in that it entailed the dreaded hitch hiking home on a Friday evening and travelling back by the midnight train from Paddington to Swindon on Sunday night.
 
 The journey took two hours and on arrival at Swindon there were various coaches waiting to collect and transfer the Airmen back to one of the many RAF camps in Wiltshire at that time. .
 
  As none of the waiting coaches went direct to Compton Bassett we were told by those who knew better, to board a coach destined for the camp at Yatesbury, which was a mere 3-4 miles from Compton and upon arrival at Yatesbury we were to mingle with the Yatesbury lads as they left the coach for their billets and we would calmly walk out of the camp’s main gate and head off and walk the 3-4 miles to Compton Bassett.
 
 
  This was fine in theory but on the first night we tried this ploy the coach driver spotted us making towards the main gate and in his broad, delightful West Country accent shouted out to us ‘Where be you’n going then’?  When we said Compton Bassett he went mad replying ‘Wot you’n doin’ on my coach, this be for the Yatesbury lads, Bloody Cheek, Bloody Comp’on Bass-it blokes, you’n got no right bein’ yere, go on, clear off’. And so it came to pass that at about 3.30 a.m. one Monday morning a chastened, dispirited, cold and tired band of brothers meekly obeyed this instruction and cleared off through the dark and starless night towards ‘that place’, whose name was so eloquently put by our West Country coach driver.
 
   As we trudged our weary way back to our camp out of the blue one of our party said ‘If I could get up a coach to do the return trip to London from Compton every Saturday costing only twelve shillings, instead of the official one at eighteen shillings, would anyone be interested’?  Naturally everyone thought it a good idea and arrangements were made to assemble at this man’s billet later in the week to finalise the deal. This was our first meeting with a man who was to become an entrepreneur long before Freddie Laker or Richard Branson came on the scene. His name was John Bloom who achieved fame as the man who bought out Rolls Razors and turned it into Rolls Washing Machines. He upset some of the well established big boys like Hoover and Hotpoint by enticing the housewives with his cut price machines even offering a free fridge as a further inducement.
 
   Later that week many of us went to Bloom’s billet where he was seated complete with notebook and pencil. After we had given him our name and handed over our twelve shillings, which he recorded in his book, we departed happily looking forward to the following weekend when this exciting new enterprise was scheduled to commence. Came the big day and it was a bit of a let down when we saw a rather tired rickety old coach turn up at the camp gate. The Flight Sergeant, upset at the possible loss of his trade agreement with Cards Coaches quickly ordered it to go away and park around the corner. We didn’t care we all climbed aboard, happy at getting one over on the Flight Sergeant.
 
   It seems to me the reason why people such as the Laker’s, Branson’s and Bloom’s of this world do succeed is their skill in seeing an opening and going for it with vision and sheer determination. I can best illustrate this point by telling you that on that first weekend trip to London, John Bloom, in an effort to maximise his profit margin, sat on the floor of the coach to London, thereby forfeiting his own seat and pocketing another twelve shillings.
 
  Bear in mind the coach floor was metal ribbed, cold, hard and most uncomfortable. Especially as it was at the front of the coach which meant he inhaled all the diesel fumes coming off the engine!  For my money he deserved every penny he made on that weekend. On the Sunday night at London’s King Cross coach station we all assembled for the return journey back to camp. Panic set in when there was no sign of Bloom and his coach. What some people were going to do to him is unrepeatable here, except to say they were ‘Blooming mad’  Then suddenly a load cheer arose at the sight of our chariot, practically on two wheels, came roaring round the corner with our own Ben Hur hanging out of the doorway. Relieved we all scrambled aboard and left the smoke of London Town behind and headed westwards back to that there ‘B****y Comp’on Bass-it place in deepest Wiltshire and this time we didn’t have to jump out at Yatesbury camp.  Thank goodness for entrepreneurs.
 
---End of Part Twenty-- 

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Ivor's Insights Part 19

INSIGHTS ON IVOR
 
Part Nineteen
 
 
For some people the 1950’s in Britain were dull and grey but for others it was the start of a new beginning. We were still recovering from the war years. Austerity, rationing, bombsites, some of which still had hidden UXB’S (unexploded bombs) buried deep within the rubble, there were plenty of old air raid shelters still in evidence and concrete hexagonal shaped look out shelters strategically placed around the country and from which solders or Home Guardsmen would watch through narrow slits along each side of the shelter for any enemy parachutists. As I write this the year is 2017 and I can tell you that there are still many of these concrete structures still standing throughout the U.K., minus the guardians inside of course.
 
   These were the days when Authority was respected. Adults would reprimand any unruly children, whether their own or someone else’s without the fear of arrest or recrimination.  This method meant children grew up instilled with the discipline of acceptance and not questioning their elders. In a strange way it gave the children a sense of understanding and security.  Television in 1950 was still a luxury with fewer than two million sets sold in Britain. Many considered the ‘box’ in the corner of the room to be a threat to family life. Of course the pictures were black and white, there were no daytime programmes and the service closed at eleven o’clock every night.
 
   In addition there was a one-hour break in transmission every evening between five and six o’clock. This was named the ‘toddlers truce’. Small children, believing that television was closing down for the night, a belief instilled in them by their tired and harassed parents, were packed off to bed. This parent friendly ploy by the BBC lasted until 1957.
 
   But I am jumping ahead a little here so let’s go back a little and start with one day in March 1950 when a letter arrived from our friendly Government, who, knowing that I was now 18 years old, ‘invited’ me to report to the RAF camp at Padgate in Lancashire. As the youngest member of the family I had grown up listening to stories about Army life from my Father, three brothers and my sister and had long decided it wasn’t for me so I applied to join the RAF. My request was granted and on March 28th 1950 I duly reported to RAF Padgate and joined the Royal Air Force to serve my eighteen months National Service.
 
     One of the first things to do was for all of us to get kitted out with uniforms and a myriad number of other items deemed essential to make Airmen out of us young fresh faced slightly bemused ‘erks’ – the nickname for such young inexperienced newcomers -  What followed next was, for me, quite hilarious. We were marched to a Store Hut in which a group of N.C.O.S were standing behind counters awaiting our arrival. The first item of kit was thrust into our arms with great rapidity as we were hurried along the  counters to collect the rest of our kit. Boots, shoes, underclothes, socks, shirts, collars, ties, sweaters, trousers, battledress tunics, ‘Best Blue’ uniforms . Two hats, one a beret and the other a forage cap, woollen gloves and the very necessary item for the time of year, our greatcoat, completed that list.. Next came items which included polishing equipment for cleaning all the uniform brasses and boots and shoes, a drinking mug, cutlery, knife, fork and spoon (referred to as ‘Irons’) and other items deemed necessary by the powers that be. All of these items came flying through the air at great speed accompanied by shouts from the N.C.O’S to ‘Hurry up chaps’ (or words to that effect!). The sight of all these ‘sprogs’ (another nickname for newcomers) with boots and shoes which for expediency, tied around their necks, their faces lost behind all the other equipment gathered in their arms, blindly staggering around the room, crashing into each other wondering what on earth had hit them was just too much for my ‘Goonish’ sense of humour. I was doubled up with laughter.   Of course, with such loads precariously balanced it was inevitable that some items would fall to the ground causing the unfortunate losers, panic stricken by now, to struggle to redeem their fallen articles. Their clumsiness bought more verbal encouragement from the N.C.O’S and more laughter from me. All of this paraphernalia required a large kitbag to carry it so this was another fiasco which caused last laughter. Each individual kitbag required some form of identity so we were all given stencilling equipment and instructions on how to stencil our service number onto the bag and underneath that the number of the current month followed by a hyphen following by the last two numbers of the current year. In our case as it was March, the third month, we had to put a 3 a hyphen and the last two numbers of the year 1950 which meant the finished version should show 3 – 50. Now, the Corporal in an effort for absolute clarity said, and I quote this verbatim ‘Put three hyphen fifty, five 0’  Simple enough really but of course there’s always one isn’t there. This poor embarrassed lad took the instruction literally and his kitbag ended up showing his serial number correctly and underneath the numbers 3 – 50 50.
Naturally as you can imagine the Corporal was delighted whilst the rest of us thought it hilarious. 
 
   Equally funny was marching back to our billets after being issued with rifles and tin helmets. These helmets were supposed to stay on your heads but some lads had great difficulty in achieving this despite inclining their heads alarmingly to one side. Failure to master this technique resulted in the helmet leaving the head and landing in the road with an almighty clatter. As the poor unfortunate loser tried to retrieve it the marching feet of his colleagues kicked it as they tried their best not to fall over it. We all learnt a few new words that day I can tell you. Me? I was doubled up with laughter.
 
   After Padgate I was posted to R.A.F. Wilmslow in Cheshire for eight weeks square bashing. In those days there were about two thousand W.A.A.F’s (Women’s Auxiliary Air Force) stationed there but what with the sheer physical hard work to say nothing of the bromide in the tea we were too exhausted to chase after them!
 
 
   Another incident which caused much merriment occurred whilst the platoon was drilling on the parade ground. The Drill Sergeant bellowed out the command ‘about turn’, we all ‘about turned’, all except one silly devil who blindly continued marching straight on all on his own. This prompted the Drill Sergeant to break into song and the first five notes and words of ‘Beautiful Dreamer, wake unto me’ wafted across the parade ground. I have often wondered if that particular ‘Dreamer’’ was the same man with the iconic 3 - 5050 on his kitbag!
 
   It was during those drill moments on the parade ground that I was grateful for my days in the Boys Brigade. Marching, including slow marching, forming fours, about turning etc were all drill movements I had learnt from the age of twelve.  The RAF also taught me to use rifles and sten guns. I managed to gain the accolade of being a Marksman in rifle shooting. I knew watching all those rooting, tooting, fast shooting cowboys films chasing Indians across the plains in my youth would come in handy one day. After I had completed six weeks of the normal eight weeks square bashing I contacted, for the second time, scarlet fever and was put in the isolation ward of the camp hospital for two weeks treatment. Afterwards I was sent home for two weeks convalescence before returning to camp for the passing out parade signifying my square bashing time at RAF Wilmslow was over. .
 
   Unfortunately in June 1950 the Korean War broke out with the result that the Government increased the required time scale from eighteen months to two years for all current and future National Service conscripts. I have good reason for remembering this because by this time I was at stationed at No.3 Radio School, Compton Basset in Wiltshire undergoing training as a Teleprinter Operator. There were rumours going the rounds that our class was earmarked for Korea but luckily for us we were let off and destined to stay in the UK. So the extra six months service in the UK was accepted and infinitely preferable to being shot at in Korea. This war became known as the ‘forgotten war’ because whenever people are discussing past wars and conflicts you can bet your life that the Korean War is usually not mentioned.
 
   As a matter of interest from the end of the Second World War in August 1945 - (not May 1945 – that was when the war in Europe finished)  The British 14TH Army, also known as the Forgotten Army, fought on against the Japanese in the Far East until the two Atom bombs dropped by the Americans forced Japan to surrender – to the end of National Service conscription ending in 1960 there were about 400 National Servicemen killed in action plus many more wounded in conflicts in Malaysia, Kenya, Cyprus, Suez Canal, Aden, the Gulf States and Korea.
 
--End of Part Nineteen—
 
 

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Ivor's Insights Part 18

INSIGHTS ON IVOR
 
Part Eighteen
 
 
   After the 1936 Berlin Olympic Games had finished, the next games, scheduled for 1940, should have taken place in Tokyo but due to political reasons they declined and Helsinki was substituted. Unfortunately the advent of the Second World War (1939-1945) intervened and no games took place until 1948 and London was the chosen venue for their return. Germany and Japan were banned from entering and Russia declined the invitation. But despite of this there were still over 4,000 competitors – of which there were 355 women – representing 59 nations. The availability of food and accommodation were, if anything, worse than during the war, Britain ’s athletes trained at Butlins holiday camps and many RAF stations provided accommodation
 
   Despite all the austerity and lack of resources Britain pulled out all the stops and the games were a triumph over adversary and a heart warming tribute to the sheer determination and hard work of the organizers and participants. The final medal table showed that Britain finished in twelfth place by winning a overall total of 23 medals, 3 gold, 14 silver and 6 bronze. I remember seeing King George VI and Queen Elizabeth opening the games (I even remember John Mark, the final athlete who had the honour of carrying the torch into Wembley Stadium and igniting the Olympic flame). The athletics and field events took place in the Stadium, the Empire Pool Wembley hosted the swimming events, rowing was at Henley on Thames and sailing at Torbay in Devon .  The estimated total cost was around £732,000 against the £11 billion cost when the games returned to London in 2012!
 
   Of course colour television hadn’t arrived in 1948 but even in black and white it was still a thrill to see the world’s best athletes competing in this magnificent sporting spectacle. Two people I remember are McDonald Bailey, a fine sprinter from Trinidad and a remarkable lady from Holland with the equally remarkable name of Fanny Blankers Koen. This lady or ‘The Flying Dutchwoman’ as some wits called her, dominated the ladies track events by winning four gold medals, the 100m, 200m, 80m hurdles and as a member of the 100m relay team, which this was certainly not bad for a 30 year old mother of two.
 
   The year 1949 bought the end of clothes rationing which was imposed in 1941. The ban on coloured lights, floodlights and neon signs was also lifted but the most popular, with children at least, was ending of confectionery rationing.  I remember the Wimbledon Tennis Championship coming alive that year when an American lady named Augusta (Gussie) Moran shocked the old brigade and caused a near riot amongst the court side press photographers with her lace trimmed panties peeping out beneath her white dress. Designed by Teddy Tinling her daring outfit resulted in her being asked to open garden fetes, beauty contests and even hospitals. I believe she even had a race horse named after her. She wasn’t exactly one of the top tennis players as such but her appearance had many wondering what the deuce she was doing causing many glasses of Pimms, to say nothing of punnets of strawberries and cream to be spilt at this, the home of tennis. But at the end of play I think we can say she was a smash hit who taught us, to love all, which served to her advantage by winning the game, set and match.
 
   The world’s first jet airliner, the De Havilland Comet made its first flight test in July 1949 at Hatfield, Hertfordshire when pilot Group Captain John (Cats Eyes) Cunningham took the plane up. In September that year another first flight occurred when what was considered to be the world’s biggest aeroplane, the Bristol Brabazon, at one hundred and thirty tons, powered by eight Rolls Royce engines, with a carrying capacity of one hundred passengers frightened the life out of many birds when she took to the skies. The interior of the plane proudly displayed a cinema, cocktail bar, a lounge and dining room, sleeper berths and separate men’s and ladies dressing rooms.  Despite it flying for some time the sheer cost of travelling on it, allied with much political intrigue and shenanigans it was deemed, at the time, to be a white elephant and not a commercially viable proposition so in 1953 it was scrapped.
 
    In complete contrast, at about the same time as the Brabazon flights – or maybe it was because of them? - a flock of starlings decided to have a meeting on the minute hand of Big Ben. This caused the clock to lose four and a half minutes; it’s slowest in ninety years.
 
   Another disaster struck in September when the economic situation worsened and more belt was required. Sugar supplies were cut to eight ounces per person, per week. Milk and tobacco supplies were also cut and, much to the dismay of us children, confectionery was back on ration at four ounces per person per week.
 
   Tommy Handley the Liverpudlian comedian who did so much to raise the morale of the British people during the Second World War with his Thursday night radio show ‘ITMA’ died aged 56 on January 9th 1949 from a brain hemorrhage.  The BBC first launched this show for a trial run of 4 episodes in July 1939.  As the months went by and the daily news became full of Adolf Hitler’s march across Europe the press began referring to him as ‘It’s that man again’. The BBC brought the Tommy Handley show back on September 19th  and decided to use the Hitler phrase in it’s abbreviated form ‘ITMA’ but this time the man in question wasn’t the madman Hitler seeking world dominance but someone who bought laughter and hope to the whole nation during its darkest hour. In 1941 the whole cast were invited to perform a special edition at Windsor Castle to celebrate Princess Elizabeth’s 16th birthday. Some of the regular cast members included Maurice Denham, Jack Train, Deryck Gulyer and Hattie Jacques. To illustrate the huge debt the people owed Tommy Handley and the high esteem in which he was held it is estimated that along the six mile route from the private Chapel in Westbourne Grove in London to Golders Green thousands mourned his passing.  In addition memorial services were carried out in St. Paul ’s Cathedral and, appropriately in Tommy’s home city, at Liverpool Cathedral.
 
   The final years of the 1940’s saw the coal industry nationalised in 1947 followed by the railways in 1948. This year also went into our history with the advent of mass immigration into Britain when around 500 people from the West Indies traveled from Jamaica aboard the SS Empire Windrush and arrived at Tilbury Docks. Even though many of them, had already visited Britain before when they came over to join the armed forces during the war, they decided the future prospects for them and their families lay within the UK . This was an historic event which took a long time for all the involved parties, immigrates and the British, to adjust and accept the different attitudes and cultures, to say nothing of the weather which was vastly different from Jamaica . But eventually it worked out with housing and work prospects being readily available it wasn’t long before others made their exodus from their Caribbean homes seeking a new life in Britain .
 
 There is no doubt with Britain still in disarray and  turmoil from the war the extra labour force they provided allied with their happy-go-lucky natural demeanour, colourful life style and artistic talent was a very welcome aid which eventually broke down any prejudices and barriers felt by some. Those early pioneers from the SS Windrush could never have envisaged the impact their 1948 journey would have and would be amazed if they could see the integration and multi-racial Britain of today.
 
---End of Part Eighteen--- 

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Ivor's Insights Part 17

INSIGHTS ON IVOR
 
Part Seventeen
 
 
Rewinding back to the year 1947 we saw two very contrasting weather patterns throughout the country. We had some snow before Christmas 1946 but it was on January 21st 1947 when it really started. This was to be one of the worst winters the UK has ever had. From Scotland to Devon the country was blanketed in snow. All forms of transport were badly affected from food deliveries to coal supplies which resulted in some power stations closing. Electricity supplies to homes were reduced to 19 hours per day. To add to the misery bitter winds blew, temperatures plummeted.
 Helicopters dropped food supplies for people in many cut off villages particularly in Devon, and the Armed Forces were deployed to keep roads and rail tracks clear.
  
   Of course in those days most houses didn’t have central heating or double glazed windows. Most heating was from coal fires – provided coal was available – and this meant that once you left a coal heated room the rest of the house was bitterly cold.  
Going to the toilet necessitated a mad dash upstairs and then back again to the warmth of the sitting room. Similarly going to bed required extra blankets and getting up each morning for work was way down our list of priorities. 
   The bad weather conditions were compounded by the worrying economy situation with Britain and Europesuffering severe shortages of essential goods. But once again America came to the rescue, this time with the Marshall Plan. This was a huge financial package named after American General George Marshall who, on a visit to Europe in 1947, saw how bad the infrastructure of Britain and much of Western Europe had suffered from the war. The Marshall Plan was instigated with the aim of aiding Europe by supplying food and the other vital supplies necessary in a humanitarian crusade to recovery from the ravages of the war.
 
   As well as the terrible winter weather of 1947 Britain, two years after the war, was still a country of rationing and austerity. Whenever word got out that some particular shop had just taken delivery of a rarely seen food item mothers would rush with their shopping bags and ration books to stand stoically in the queue hoping to be one of the lucky recipients of some eagerly awaited item.   
 
   But some respite eventually came when summer arrived. There was a complete change in the weather with sunny days and temperatures soaring into the 30’s centigrade in June. When the cricket season got under way there was one man in particular who will never be forgotten. His name was Denis Compton of Middlesex. He was a dashing, daring, devil-may-care batsman who went into the history books by scoring 18 centuries and amassing 3,816 runs in the 1947 season. He was also an unorthodox left arm spin bowler. He bought a wave of fresh air with his new style of cricket by dashing down the wicket and sweeping or cutting the ball to all four corners of the ground much to the delight of the spectators. He formed a fantastic partnership with Bill Edrich in the Middlesex team as well as for England.  His face was seen on posters around the country because, due to his dark good looks, he was used to advertise the hair product Brylcream. Denis Compton, along with his brother Leslie, was also an accomplished footballer playing for Arsenal as a left winger. He  played for England in some wartime international games and in 1950 won a medal playing in the Cup Final when Arsenal beat Liverpool. Compton joined the Army during the Second World War and was posted to India. He died aged 78 in 1997
 
   His great partner Bill Edrich may not have had the dashing flair of Compton when batting but he was also a batsman of outstanding ability and his partnership with Compton was one of the most successful of all time. Edrich was a fighter not only on the cricket field but also during the Second World War when, serving as a RAF Bomber Pilot, Squadron Leader Edrich was awarded a DFC.  He, like his great partner Compton, also played football, turning out for Norfolk and later Spurs. Squadron Leader W.J. Edrich DFC died aged 70 in 1986.
 
   In memory of one of the best partnerships to ever grace the cricket scene the Denis Compton Stand and the Bill Edrich Stand, was erected, side by side, at the Nursery End of Lords Cricket Ground, which is a truly justified fitting tribute to these two giants who bought so much pleasure to cricket fans.
 
   The year 1947 is also memorable as it was the year when the Labour Government’s minister, Aneurin Bevan, finally saw his dream realised when the National Health Service, which would provide free medical treatment to all citizens of Britain, was introduced. 
 
   There was widespread interest and joy throughout the country on November 20th 1947 when 21 year old Princess Elizabeth married Prince Philip in Westminster Abbey. This happy event was watched by 2,000 invited guests in the Abbey and broadcast to 200 million people around the world. The happy couple honeymooned at Birkhall on the Balmoral Estate in Scotland.
 
   My brother Bernard was demobbed from the Army in 1948 and returned to Civvy Street. By this time he was married and the proud father of a baby girl. He decided he wanted to become a Quantity Surveyor and accepted a post with a London Building company as a trainee. By studying hard and attending night school three nights a week he achieved his aim and became a fully qualified member of that esteemed fraternity. 
 
   The next year 1949 saw my next brother David being called up to join the khaki brigade. He was put into the Royal Corps of Signals and hated every minute of his eighteen months National Service.
 
   I was still an avid film buff and sportsman. My good friend Graeme and I played golf on a nine hole course at nearby Perivale Park and I must admit it bought back memories of earlier days when I and a few other boys in our ‘gang’, including brother Dave, would hide amongst the trees on many a morning looking for ‘lost’ golf balls and then try to sell them to approaching golfers on the course with the sole aim of gaining enough money to go swimming in the afternoon.  As the wonderful television character Arthur Daley would later say about such enterprise it was ‘A nice little earner’. Similarly on the sporting scene Graeme and I would spend Sunday afternoons playing 18 holes on a public putting course followed by an hour or two on the tennis court.
 
    Talking of Graeme I also remember with affection his mother, Avis Merton, who was a professional actor and very much involved in the local theatre group. I remember how well she played the lead part of the teacher Miss Moffat in the well known play The Corn is Green by Emlyn Williams. The company also performed Gilbert and Sullivan operettas and she often tried to persuade us two to join the group. We thought about asking Princess Ida and Iolanthe to come with us but were frightened we might have The Yeomen of the Guard after us which could end up with us two facing a Trial by Jury thus making our Utopia, Limited. So, after much deliberation we eventually agreed that we didn’t have the Patience or desire to join the Pirates of Penzance or The Gondoliers on HMS Pinafore and so politely declined his Mother’s overtures.
 
---End of Page Seventeen---  
 

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