My Life by Lionel Graves. (Page 8)
One weekend there was a terrific fight on Worcester Bridge between black and white American soldiers, I didn't actually witness it but got a first hand description from a friend who did. The snowballs, or American military police, drove their jeeps through the middle of the melee thumping heads with their batons indiscriminately. The injured were carted off to hospital where they continued fighting in the corridors, waiting rooms and wards. I also watched a baseball match on the County Cricket ground.
I rose steadily in the JTC. L/Cpl, Cpl and finally Sergeant of a platoon, one of us whom was Woolfson who later managed GUS. Field Days were usually held on Kempsey Common. We also took part in the Wings for Victory parade through the streets of Worcester, good for the morale.
During an earlier summer holiday at Tenbury, Irene Arnott was staying with us, to get a break from the Birmingham bombing I suppose and we all went to the pictures, on coming out I shone my torch unfortunately a German bomber was passing overhead. A local policeman soon told me to put it out and took my name. I fully expected to be hauled into the Tower of London, but nothing further developed.
At other times I went with Dad when he was on duty at the Royal Observer Corps watching out for the bombers, plotting their direction and phoning on ahead to give warning of targets and estimated numbers, again I think they were heading for Liverpool.
One holiday when one of the spaniels was very old and sick, might have been Dodo or Rascal, Dad arranged for Moppy Davies who worked in the chemists to come and give it poison. Then Dad went down with one of his bouts of flu. I always thought it was his malaria coming back but could be wrong, so I had to go down with Moppy and take the dog and hold it while he gave it a spoon of poison, then he took me away quite quickly but I've never forgotten the sad look in the dog's eyes, it knew what was happening.
We kept pigs, hens, geese and pheasants though not all at the same time and I attended the execution of Cleobury, one of the pigs by Bert Hill the pig man, a gruesome sight. The pig was almost tame and called Cleobury because it had a twisted neck and Cleobury Mortimer church has a twisted steeple.
Another summer I caught mumps, spent the usual time in isolation and it cleared up. Then Mum and Jean went up to Scotland leaving Dad and I at home. He went to Tenbury one day and I was feeding the animals or fowls when I was struck down, literally by complications, I couldn't move and had to get down on hands and knees and crawl back to the house and bed. Finally the doctor said what it was and I had another week in bed.
That was the summer that when I was better I followed them up to Prestonpans and was offered a days trip on a fishing trawler from Cockenzie which went out in the North Sea. We left about 4 am and steamed out for four hours which I managed nicely, then the nets were let down and we drifted for an hour or so, the swell of the waves did the trick and I was so seasick. I sat in the bows on an old net leaning in over the side. Things didn't improve when they hauled in the nets and started gutting the fish. I wouldn't have minded if a wave had washed me overboard. When we got back ashore, I was fine, ravenous and had a whopping helping of fish and chips, it had cleared all the many poisons out of me.
Other holiday jobs were fruit picking, apples, plums, damsons and pears and taking the produce to Tenbury market on a hand cart. Raking grass for hay making, helped with staking and wiring the outside of the hedge to keep old man Howard's cattle from breaking through. Sawing wood for the fires in the sheds at bottom of orchard, also feeding animals.
Email: Lionel Graves (lionel@graf-tek.com).
Copyright ©2000-2008 L. Graves. All Rights Reserved.
