My Dad

My dad was born in September 1915 a year after the first world war broke out. His parents were Henry Alfred, born 1875 in South Hackney, London, England and Emily Agnes born 1877 at Sissinghurst Castle in East Sussex, England. His eldest sister Emily, was then 13 years old and another sister, Hetty Isobel, was 11 years old. Then there was a gap until my dad’s brother came Henry Jason who was 2 years older than my dad. One sister, Grace Charlotte born 1902 had died at the age of 2. They were all living in Stratford, East London in Bridge Road when my dad was born.

Grandmother Emily Agnes grew up in the country where her large family (11 brothers) were all involved in farm work, mainly as farm labourers. She herself worked in the dairy at the Sissinghurst castle farm. Grandfather Henry Alfred had grown up in one of the poorer parts of London, but had always had work and was lucky to be employed by Lloyd’s Insurance company in the business area of London as a night watchman. This ensured a steady income, although the family all had to work for their living, except for my grandmother who had to look after the household and the children. I often had the feeling that my grandmother may have had a social shock coming to the rough Cockney East End of London to bring up her growing family after living in the quiet countryside of East Sussex. She was a small neat woman and her fine English pastries country-style still remain in my memories today. My grandfather was quite tall, a working man and as such seemed to have spent his free time pursuing the working man’s hobbies of the time. He like to have a drink in the local pub (sometimes more than one as my father mentioned to me) and loved dogs especially the dogs called greyhounds to be found at the racing tracks where he often had a small bet. But now back to the beginning.

My father was born one year after the outbreak of world war 2 and it was not long after his birth that grandfather Henry Alfred had to join the British Army to fight for victory in the trenches. As far as I know he was sent to France and we have some photos of him in his uniform. He was enlisted in the medical corps. Not that he had a particular gift for medicine, but he was 40 years old at the time and his duty mainly consisted of collecting the fallen soldiers on the front and bringing them back for burial.

My father's first memory, so he told me, was when he was 3 years old. He was at home with his mother and there was a knock on the street door. His mother opened the door and there was a very tall man standing there dressed in army uniform. This man was welcomed into the house by my grandmother. My father asked his mother "Who's that man, mum" and got the answer "It's your father". So my dad met his father at the age of 3.

Although my father had a safe and secure life as a boy tragedy came to the family through an accident involving his older sister Emily. Towards the end of the first world war sister Emily was 15 years old and was working as an auxilliary for the post helping to sort and carry the post out. She was working at one of the main London sorting offices in Fenchurch Street when it was hit by one of the last bombs of the war. The bomb destroyed part of the building and my Aunt Emmy was hit by pieces of rubble flying around after the attack. She was taken to hospital but her right leg could not be saved and had to be amputated. Perhaps today with our modern medicine this could have been avoided, my father often told me this. I knew my Aunt Emmy very well and looking back I never had the feeling that she was handicapped by only having one leg, but the shock the family must have had at the time cannot be imagined.

My father grew up in Stratford and the day came when he started going to school. His brother, Henry Jason, was the best pupil in the school and won a scholarship to entitle him to go to the high school. Although the scholarship was won, unforunately there was no financial support. My father's family did not possess the means to allow this scholarship. A uniform would have to be bought, school books and the material as well - in those days there were no funds available for such an education for the son of a working class family. My father was also a very good scholar and would also have been available for a better schooling chance, but the income of the family was no better and the two boys remained at their school until they were released for work at the age of 14.

Both my father and his brother were very keen on football and they were both members of the school football team. I was given an exercise book by my father with compositions that he had written for the school. Here is one of them:

Written 9th April, 1924

"How I spent good Friday

On the morning of Good Friday I began the day by getting in the hot Cross buns for our breakfast. All the morning I played a game of cricket with my brother and six other boys. When it was two o'clock my brother and I went to the West Ham football ground, seeing a good game between West Ham and Burnley resulting in a win for the Hammers.

West Ham started off, as if to be sure of a ten-none victory. A great combination between Earl and Ruffell enbled the last mentioned player to find the net with a great left drive. Immediately after the centre the Hammers gave Burnley a real lesson in football. they passed the ball accurately from man to man, but a mistake on Watson's part, enbabled the right back of Burnley to clear with a fierce drive. It was then Burnley's turn to attack, and Hufton was kept busy for ten minutes. Before half-time Watson and Ruffell put on two further goals.

In the next half both goalies were kept busy, Hufton especially. Yews continually beat both backs only to find no-one in the centre. Play was very even and more than three times did Beel the centre forward of Burnley, cut through the backs to be foiled by Hufton. Two minutes from the end Gibbins scored through a neat pass by Ruffell. That brought the score to four for West Ham. Soon after, the whistle went for full time.

We went from Upton Park to the Princess Alice, then a short walk from there brought us to the Hats Fair. Both of us enjoyed ourselves immensely on the coconut shies, darts, ringboards and all the other things. At half past nine we went home claiming between us two boxes of chocolates, three coco-nuts and a packet of cigarettes."

As young man my father often visited the Theatre Royal, Stratford. His parents both enjoyed a visit to this theatre and he was often taken along with his brother and sister. He particulary remembers seeing played on the stage Sweeney Todd, the Demon Barber of Fleet Street and often told me the story when I was younger. He also saw Bela Lugosi on the stage as Dracula in London and was impressed by the way he was shown to fly. This must have been in the 30's. My father was a big fan of the jazz of the day and remembers seeing Fats Waller on the stage in London at the London Palladium at his famous London concert about 1938. He still speaks today of how great Fats Waller was and I have also become a fan over the years and possess a few records.

After leaving school my father's first job was where my grandfather was working. Lloyd's Insurance Company in the City of London. His brother was already working there as a maintenance man and my father started as a messenger boy. His job was bringing letters etc. to other companies or on errands for his own company. Although this was a "good" job for someone starting on his way through life, it didn't appeal to my father and after 2 years he left. He found employment in a Hatters called Thomas Townsend situated also in the City of London in Leadenhall Market near to Fenchurch Street. In this shop hats were sold to the city businessmen - bowler hats and top hats mainly.

From hats my father went to a shop in Stratford, East London where he learnt the ins and outs of the tailoring business. He was a salesman for the "50 bob tailor" which was a chain shop belonging to the businessman Henry Price. Henry Price decided to bring suits to the people for the price of 50 shillings. He had a lot of success with this idea and my father learnt a lot about the clothing trade whilst working in this store.

It was at this time that tragedy struck the family once again. His sister Hetty had already passed away when my father was at school having tuberculosis which was unfortunately a common complaint at that time. Father's brother Henry was still working as a repair man for Lloyds Insurance when there was an accident in connection with Lift repairs. He fell and died within a week of his injuries. Perhaps today something could have been done, but in the 20's medicine hadn't made such progress as today.

Clouds of war then began collecting on the horizon and my father realised that his country would need him in case of war. He realised that his future as a salesman in a clothes shop would soon come to an end and started to work as a window cleaner to bridge over the time until he was called up into the British Army.

As the war was coming closer my father gave up his regular job as he knew there would be no great future for it. He spent the time cleaning windows and other odd jobs until the letter came telling him it was time to go to war in the following words:

"Dear Sir

In accordance with the National service (Armed Forces) Act, 1939 you are called upon for service in the Territorial army and are required to present yourself on Thursday 16th May 1940 at 10 a.m. or as early as possible thereafter on that day to:

304th Infantry training Centre

Plumer Barracks, Crownhill, Plymouth.

Plymouth (nearest railway station)

A travelling warrant for your journey is enclosed. before starting your journey you must exchange the warrant for a ticket at the booking office named on the warrant. If possible, this should be done a day or two before you are due to travel.

A postal order for 4s in respect of advance of service pay, is also enclosedl. Uniform and personal kit will be issued to you after joining H.M. forces. any kit that you take with you should not exceed an overcoat, change of clothes, stout pair of boots, and personal kit such as razor, hair brush, tooth brush, soap and towel.

Immediately on receipt of this notice you should inform your employer of the date upon which you are required to report for service."

The actual regiments where my father served have got a bit lost of the years but as far as he can remember he started in the Sherwood Forresters. This regiment was changed to home defence and he was sent to another. The home training mainly took place in the Scottish Highlands. My dad felt a bit already abroad as he told me that he didn't really understand very much of the language the inhabitants of the local farms and houses were speaking.

During his first days in the army he met up with two men. They got on very well together and their friendship lasted throughout the war. At one point there was a re-organisation and 3 men from my father's group were needed to join a Welsh regiment. As the three friends realised this would be the chance to stay together, they volunteered and all 3 become members of the 69th Medium Regiment of the Royal Artillary.

It didn't take long and his first meeting with the front was the landings at Salerno in Italian (under fire from small boats). He spent most of the war in Italy, mainly around the Bay of Naples - Sorrento, Ravello, Amalfi - towns which I later visited on holiday, not without thinking of my father's war experiences. He often told me stories of the narrow mountain road up to Ravello with donkeys whilst under fire from the other side. He had a pamphlet showing the church in Amalfi, how proud I was to be able to visit the church one day myself as a teenager. It looked exactly the same as on the leaflet he had. Another experience he had was to see Beniamino Gigli and his daughter perform for the troops in a NAAFI in Italy. He told me that during the concert the military police had locked all the doors and before the men left all their papers were examined. They found about 30 deserters that evening.

As he was with the Royal Artillary he was on the large canons that were used. His war injuries consisted of dropping a shell on his foot whilst loading. Luckily it had been raining and the ground was soft and muddy, otherwise he might have lost his foot (according to my dad's report), He also got malaria whilst in Italy and had it again once or twice after returning home after the war.

At some time he was sent to Africa - Egypt and afterwards to Palestine (Israel didn't exist then). Needless to say the sights he saw in these countries impressed him immensely after growing up in the East End of London. The war came to an end when he was on a ship just off the French coast. The regiment then all went to Paris - which he quite enjoyed. For the last few months he was in Germany in the area around Wuppertal, where he was in charge of a section of a Prisoner of war camp. He managed to go and see a football match in Germany between two English teams that had played for the benefit of the troops.

My father had always had a very good singing voice and so did his 2 colleagues. They formed a singing group together and often entertained the troops on various occasions, winning a few prizes for their efforts. Here is a photo of the 3 of them, but taken after the war.

He was once on leave when his family's house got hit at the beginning of the war. He was sent home to help the family and they were given another house on the outskirts of London. On this leave he spent some time with friends and often went out in the evening for a drink. It was on one of these evenings that he met his future wife, my mum. In the house my mum lived in there was a family living on the top floor and it was their son that was a friend of my father's. He knew my mum and introduced them to each other. Afterwards my dad went back to the army and during the 4 years he was in the army he and my mother wrote to each other. He came home from the army on Friday (so the story goes) and on Sunday they were married.

After the war and getting married my mum and dad moved into my grandparents house in Bethnal Green, East London, in the upstairs rooms as the family living there had moved out. They had three rooms - a kitchen, bedroom and living room. The next step was to find a job. In after war Europe you couldn't choose, and my dad had to start from the beginning again. He took a job at the railway as a normal worker, but only stayed until he found something better.

My father's parents (my grandparents) and my aunt were living in Essex in Chadwell Heath and we visited them every second Sunday. I remember having lunch at home and afterwards taking the Central Line train and a bus to their house. They were still living in the house they had moved to during the war when their house in Stratford had been bombed. The following photo was taken on one of these visits.

My Aunt, my grandmother, my dad and my grandfather

His next job was working for Kensitas, a cigarette company with their factory in Old Street, North East London. It was not far from where he was living. Eventually after a year and half of marriage I arrived in a cold and snowy December, so the family was complete. My dad worked for 3 years in the cigarette factory and through a colleague took a job working for Ford Car Company in Dagenham . He was working at a subsidiary called Kelsey Hayes which was in Dagenham and where the wheels were made. He worked on a factory line responsible for the manufacture of the hubs. I remember that he had to work on shifts, this meant two weeks day shift and two weeks night shift.

The night shift was particularly hard. We lived in Bethnal Green and my dad had to go to work by underground train to Barking, where he changed trains to get to Dagenham Dock. This was a one hour train journey each way. I remember I was at school. During the day he slept in my bedroom as this room was "out the back" and much quieter than his own room during the day where you could hear passing traffic and the children playing out in the street. Although I was at school during the day, my mum told me that I had to be quiet when I came home as my dad was sleeping. He usually got up at 5.00 in the evening and my mum cooked dinner for him. He then left for work around 7.00 p.m. and came back home about 8 o'clock in the morning when I was getting up for school. I think we was all relived when he was on the 2 week day shift.

As I mentioned earlier my dad was always a good singer. Every christmas we had our family Christmas party and he often sung a few from the old days - mainly songs from Bing Crosby or Al Jolson. It was also from my father that I learnt about the music of Fats Waller, Cab Calloway and other Jazz music of the 40's. He was also a Glen Miller fan.

I remember as a kid going out with my dad. Easter Good Friday was a holiday and everything was closed. For some unknown reason my mum always decided to make that her cleaning day so dad would take me for a walk through the city of London. It was very interesting walk as he took me to the small alleys and backstreets of the City of London which he knew so well from his days as a messenger boy at Lloyds Insurance. He would often go on a days excusion with me visiting the museums in South Kensington. The Natural History museum and the Science Museum as well as the Victoria and Albert. I think he was just as interested and impressed as I was with the outings we did.

My dad also loved horses. Not for their fine looks but more for their capability to run in races. I think as a child if we went on holiday there was always a race meeting taking place nearby. We often went to Great Yarmouth in summer and it always coicided with the race meetings. I probably knew how to work out a bet before I started algebra in the school. The funny thing was my dad really had a feeling for the horses and knew exactly a good or bad bet. We never became millionaires, but my dad never really lost. Sometimes a small win, or he broke even. My dad also liked to do the football pools every week. No big win, but now and again something small.

As we only had our first television when I was about 10 years old, cinema visits were often on the plan. My dad loved a good cowboy film, but above all a gangster film. Even when we had the tv he would take me to the pictures to see the latest Al Capone film - The Valentine Day Murders - or The Valaci Papers. The Untouchables was also a favourite tv series he liked watching. His music taste was and still is the old jazz of the 30-40's - not too modern and big band music.

I eventually left England and my dad was alone with my mum. At last our old house in Bethnal Green was ready for demolition and a move was made to a council house in Dagenham which was much nearer to where my dad was working. The last few years of my dad's working life were a bit easier to cope with without the long journey to work and back. He was eventually retired and his working life was finished. He was always very helpful at home and was always ready to help with the washing up and cleaning. Only ironing wasn't his favourite, but my mum did that.

As life went on my mother died at the age of 72 and my dad was left alone. At first it wasn't easy coming to grips with a daily life, but my dad was always an optimist and very logical. After some time he met a very nice ladyfriend with whom he could go out with and meet people. He soon joined the local senior citizens clubs and became very popular in one of the clubs as the caller for the weekly lotto game due to his clear voice. Most week-ends there was always something to do. A local dance at the club or just meeting with other friends and neighbours. There was an outing or holiday organised by the clubs which he also joined.

He still lives in his house on his own, but has many friends in the area where he lives and still has his ladyfriend. They help each other to overcome the difficulties of old age. She had an accident some time ago and broke her hip but my dad is always there if she needs anything. My dad's health is still quite good for his age. He is now 91 and still manages his own daily routine. Obviously there are a few health problems, but he is still active and makes sure he goes out at least once a day, even if it is only to fetch the local newspaper or his weekly visit to the local Betting Shop.