THE WONDERLAND OF WELL-SPENT YOUTH
Treasure Chest of Memories
Hi all! I'm 79 year old George D. Phillips, still alive and kicking in my twilight years, residing in Portland, Oregon, USA. My daughter Bria brought my attention to the Old Woking Grange website and suggested I pen a few interesting memories...So I'll try to be brief and as succinct as possible as I do some memory fishing into my fun-filled, happy childhood.
I'm the youngest of 4 children: Doreen, Gladys, Frank, and then I. My father was a "linesman" (ganger) working the railway lines around the Crystal Palace Southern Region lines.
Whilst working he was struck by a late running train and killed (ironically he had survived 4 years in the trenches from 1914-1918). The date was Dec 5th, 1930.
My Dad at work as a linesman
MEMORIES 1936-1939
The Junior Boy's Master "Flapper Dale" would chase us if making mischief, whack bottoms with wooden paddle. Great fun!
Being quarantined (no school), measles, chicken pox. My brother having diptheria (serious). With whooping cough and scarlett fever being around, the hospital was busy!
Learning and playing recorder with group in hospital.
Having speech training lessons in upper hospital floor (hopefully to get rid of my broad Cockney accent?). To me, sausages were snotches -- Londoners are lazy speakers!
Codliver oil, malt extract, senna pods, and tapioca pudding were the only routine cruelty we experienced!
Vaguely remember going on ship "Bourmouth Belle" at seaside.
Camping on a farm with ferrets.
Elementary school: No outsider bullied an orphanage kid -- or else! Collectively we were a force. Discipline was sternly applied but not harsh. We mainly made our own fun and generally there was good camaraderie -- occasional fights!
MEMORIES 1936-1939
At home for the Summer holiday, 1939 -- fighting dinosaurs, falling in lake, bonfires. Real adventures on the grounds of the old Crystal Palace. I'm 8 1/2 years old.
Sept 3rd, 1939. WAR.
Sept 5th, 1939. Gladys, Frank, and I returned to Woking. Strange happenings! On Oriental Road there were 4-5 coaches parked curbside, the orphanage gates locked. We were told that the home was now a military hospital. Sandwiches and Tizer provided. Eventually, all aboard to drive to somewhere called "Basingstoke".
It was dark on arrival. We were ushered/herded into a large town hall where a big group of scary looking women mingled and inspected us. Suddenly one with a posh accent approached me and asked, would you like to come home with me? Not wiffout my Bruffer, I replied.
It was a nice home. Nice people. We drove them crazy with our fighting. Lasted approx 3 months.
Suddenly Frank and I were on our way to glorious Brighton. Separated, I was billeted to a marvelous retired couple (the husband a railway porter) who had a grown grandson lieutenant with the tank corp in the BEF in Belgium.
Marvelous chaos in the school system. No teachers (call-up + volunteering=big teacher void). School was only 2 days a week -- this was paradise! A typical free day: with well supplied packed sack lunch slung on my back, I ventured out at 8:30 AM to walk the beach. Imagine Brighton Beach 1940! Tank traps, pillboxes, barbed wire to dig under, the Palace and West Piers to climb (both had two spans blown up in case of invasion), working British Tommies to hide and run from or chat with. Such glorious freedom!
I fell in love with a class mate, a girl in a gold dress -- my first realization that girls didn't exist just to be sisters. A wondrous revelation!
Learned to swim in indoor pool.
Arrived home for tea from a fun day of exploits to a house of sorrow and grief. A telegram had arrived -- the old couple's grandson's tank had received a direct hit. I remember hugging and sobbing a lot that night -- I had learnt to love that old couple.
I loved that 18 months in Brighton and grew up quite a bit. But disaster struck approx June of 1941 -- Frank and I were moving to a strange place called Guilford! I was 10 1/2 years old.
GUILFORD 1941-1942
WE ARE NO ANGELS
The orphanage had leased a large house which accommodated approximately 30 boys. Matron Miss Groom was in charge.
About 1 mile from Guildford High Street, it was called "Stowthorna" (the girl's home about 2 miles away was called Echo-Hurst, I think). About this time, my sister Gladys left Basingstoke and the orphanage and went home to London. In time for the Blitz!
Our new home had a very large back garden, the back half being an orchard, glass houses, etc. Absolutely forbidden area and no no land. Front half had a nice lawn and on the right hand side, glory "glory" the most majestic tall climbing trees. Brighton almost forgotten! Here was adventure!
What did boys get up to at this time? Well climbing trees, one had to reach the top to claim a merchersmitz was shot down, scrumping (stealing) apples, pears, and plums. Bird egg collecting (only 1 egg/nest), five stones (dibs), dangerous physical games, reading, acting, and STAMP COLLECTING. Hence the following shameful event!
Guildford had a very fine and large "W.H. Smith" book and stationary shop. Stamp albums, stamp packages, and playing packs were sold upstairs. The shop was poorly staffed! One day one of the boys showed a few of us a really nice stamp book he had stolen. We were ensnared! Leaving school we made our own way back. We covered for each other whilst 2-3 veered off to Smith's on our way back. We became very adept and proficient. Fagan and Dodger were no match. This went on for approximately 3 months. Suddenly...calamity! Somebody was caught in the shop exiting.
Mr. Evershed came down. He and Miss Groom firmly demanded we empty out lockers and place all stolen goods on top of the large covered snooker table in the recreation room. Contritely we obeyed. When we were finished...silence. Shock. And awe. The entire table was covered 2 feet deep (we did have big lockers). Large expensive and small stamp albums. We were amazed and awestruck. Miss Groom and Evershed were in shock and angry and we were really scared. Would we go to prison?
No police men came! We were put on bread and water for three days, made to write our mums and dads confessing our shameful and dastardly acts! While writing mum, I remember Frank and I bawling our eyes out. We awaited our mum's next visit with shame and trepidation!
The visiting day, our mum took us to a quiet secluded garden spot, sat us down, then quietly made us promise to never steal anything again for the rest of our lives! We solemnly swore -- that was it! We hugged her to death!
A few weeks later Frank left the home and was billeted with a railway family who treated him as their own where he happily staid until 1944 when he left to join my mum and sisters in London and to face the V1-V2 German rockets. For myself, months later I sat and passed the 11+ exam and was to start attending "Guildford Central School". The school caps had 3 orange rings around on blue-coloured caps. Locally the kids were called "The Ringworms".
"Central" was a notch below the local grammar and had tougher kids, 11-16 year olds, a good syllabus (I had never heard of homework before -- what had I done!). For my apparent amazing ability to pass an exam my reward alas was -- I was being billeted!
My happy memories of Stowthorna...
Sleeping on the lawn on balmy warm Summer starlit nights. Myself rising at 6:30AM in Winter to light fire in rec room. Getting to like, admire and respect Matron Miss Groom. Sunday walks on downs, waving across valley to orphanage girls as they wended their way on opposite hills. Seeing Italian prisoner of war camp, aerial dog fights, barrage balloons, gas masks, troops and tanks, etc. Gracie Fields singing on the radio ("Our Gracie" as she was called by mum and millions of others), and maybe Vera Lynn.
1942-1945
I was billeted with a couple whose marriage had turned sour. A miserable atmosphere. Was used as domestic help and errand boy. Pop Price (lovely man who was in charge of billeted boys) persuaded me to stay! Enjoyed school. Made captain of Shakespeare House. Had girlfriend at school who was taking exam for technical college. She failed, I passed -- end of relationship. I did not realize I had chosen a career path. Ah love!
Family bombed out by V2 rocket, 1944. Complete road demolished. All my family okay. Everything lost. 28 people killed by bomb. Horrible gruesome sights and experience for my 16 year old brother.
Hurrah! End of war -- street parties held VE and VJ days. Going back to Woking. Starting 2 year course at Guildford Technical College. I'm 14!
WOKING HOME 1945-1947
Had anything changed? Well -- not much! Interior had been completely repainted. Not so dreary. On one of the front lawns a tennis court had been installed. Gymnasium was very well equipped. Senior boy's recreation room had newish looking grand snooker table.
Senior boy's and girl's dormitories had no cubicles. A factory and a mosque were still our next door neighbors (hard to see though).
Discipline! Let's face it -- Mr. Evershed had a dilemma. Most of us boys and girls had experienced greater personal freedom than any previous generation. On this issue, to a point, a few of us Senior boys established unwritten rules -- no bullying, stealing, lying, tattle tailing, etc. Last, but not least -- have fun!
Our new Senior boys master was a Mr. Hall, ex air-force pilot, who I remember with affection for introducing me to classical music, opera, and the classics. Eternal gratitude for that. He left, I think, in 1948.
With my free 3 monthly railway and bus pass I commuted daily to Guildford Tech College for the 2 years. Life at Woking was pleasant! These for me were 2 very happy years.
Memories! -- On my way home from school being met by my girlfriend Mary Davies and Edna McLaughlin at Woking station to help carry school books ( if still alive? Hi girls!). Being coached in snooker by retired army colonel neighbor (ex British champ). I broke 100 on 3 occasions, dats true!
Acting as Captain Bung with motley pirate crew. Have photo, fun production (hi guys!).
Being good gymnast. Having to box three rounds with best friend Ben Trimby to impress visiting dignitaries -- ouch! ouch! Never again! Haven't slung a punch since!
Having friendly wrestling match with girlfriend on front lawn. When yelled at and finally stopped by very agitated and disturbed staff member I may have had a hard on. Spoil sport! Day before leaving had "serious" talk with Mr. Evershed. I think it was about sex but sounded more like metaphysics. Was given a bible! I left very befuddled!
Left Woking about end of July 1947 to home in London. I was 16 1/2. Ready to start the rest of my life!
POSTSCRIPT- 1947
After arriving home, Mr. Philby, Chairman of local railway committee, informed me he had arranged an interview for me with B.O.A.C. at Croydon Airport to apply for much coveted 5 year deferred apprenticeship with 2 days a week for 5 years to attend Croydon Polytechnic. I was accepted! We moved to Heathrow Airport 1949-1950.
Weekend before I was to start work Mr. Philby knocked on our door and presented me with large homemade tool box filled with all tools that a young budding engineer would require! A gift from the lads in railway station workshops -- bless them all! Eternal gratitude!
Frank and I attended a number of reunions and in approximately 1950 met our "Pop", Mr. Price. A few old Guildford boys were there. We insisted on taking him out for a few beers to local pub to show him our appreciation. A luvely man!
Well, that's me finished! At last, I hear?
I wish you all a healthy, joyous, and wondrous life's journey.
George.
Hi George. What a rich and fascinating history you have and have shared it with us in such an amazingly positive way. Wonderful pictures too. Please keep writing, we want to hear about the next stages of your life!
ReplyDeleteThank you George, I loved reading about your time at the orphanage. My Dad went to live in the orphanage in 1954, you would of left by then.
ReplyDelete