 
Robert James Lawson -I was born on the 19th August 1925.

My earliest memory was about 1929. I was four years of age, I remember my mother taking me to my ninny walling's house in Rockeby Street where I was born. We had set off down Rose Vale where we lived, into Langrove Street, into Prince Edwin Street, then through small side streets into Everton Brow, then into Rockeby Street. My nin was a little lady who had six daughters and a son, she also lost a son aged 5 through an accident in a playground. Nin had beautiful hair and when she combed it out it reached down and completely covered her back.

The house was so tiny, it was a two up two down with a toilet in the back yard next to the coal place. I'd swear the living room was only about 8ft x 8ft, with furniture in it there wasn't much room. Yet on Sunday night every week we would get together at nins, mum, dad, aunty peg, uncle will, aunty nelly, uncle dick, and aunty hetty who was unmarried and in her teens.

My aunty hetty was only about 16 or 17 years old and she used to brush her hair over a hundred times and it really shone a lovely red colour. She had a few boyfriends that I can remember. The story goes that one of her boyfriends was a jew and he wanted to marry hetty, but when he insisted she change her religion and forsake her family and live the way he wanted she told him where to go.

Her older sister nelly was courting dick king and she was still living with her mum. So places for courting were few and far between. They courted on the stairs and especially on Sundays they must have been driven mad with the kids running in and out. I have spoken to Nellie recently (2004) she told me sometimes they would go to our entry alongside the church at the top of Rockeby Street to do their courting. One night someone threw a cabbage at them, they had a good laugh and so did I when she told me.

We looked forward to Sundays because nin showed us kids a lot of love. She couldn't give us much in the way of clothes, toys and other material things, but always lots of affection. Now granddad was a different kettle of fish. He showed us no affection at all and my picture of him was sitting by the fire in the old grate leaning on the kettle and smoking his pipe and then spitting in the fire. Grandad was a short, stocky man with hair like wire wool. According to stories I was told, as a young man he treated my nin very badly. To his credit, if any of his grandchildren came in he would ask them who they were and then proceed to tell them their birthday. He cornered a rat in the coal place once and when a rat is in that position it will try to jump over your shoulder. This one landed on his chest and he had to kill it with his hands, he worked in Bibbys on the docks he was used to rats, the place was overrun with them.

My next recollection was starting school at St Peters school in Sackville Street off Langrove Street. I remember the heads name was Mr Bolton and my first teacher was Miss Palmer. I liked Miss Palmer because she gave me an orange every week because my books were the neatest in the class. We went on a day trip to Chester Zoo I remember feeding the elephants with buns. Before we came away, Miss Palmer made us all go on a slide and when we landed she gave us all a mars bar each. I was last in line and when I landed she said "I haven't got any left Robert" but when she seen my face she laughed and gave me my mars bar. The first day at that school was quite funny, most of the kids and their mothers were nervous about starting school but one lad called Williams was being c hased around the playground by his mother shouting "come here you little sod you're going in whether you like it or not". She eventually caught up with him and he was still kicking and screaming going into the school.

The wash house was a place where most of the local women used at least once a week. I'm sure they enjoyed it, listening to all the gossip and probably having a good laugh. Having said that, it was hard work using scrubbing boards and dolly pegs which meant plenty of elbow grease. I did go in a few times with my mother and the smell of strong soap and the steam gave it an overpowering atmosphere. The wash house was situated on Netherfield Road at the top of Rose Vale. It doesn't exist now, they have changed all the streets, put up high rise flats, trees and some greenery , it looks a lot better than when I lived there.

The area I lived in then was predominately a Protestant community and any R.C.'s were in for a rough ride. Rose Vale, where we lived, went between Great Homer Street and Netherfield Road. We were closer to the latter, which was rife with Orange Lodge bands and L.O.L. clubs. Apparently the houses were built by P.O.W.s from a previous war. One house was at ground level, the next upstairs and so on. We lived in an upstairs house with 12 stone steps to the living room. It was a 2 bedroom 1 living room and kitchen. I remember sitting with mam and dad by the fire one night and a mouse came out from under the ash pan, my dad put his foot on it, got some paper, picked it up by the tail took it to the yard and killed it.

Now, four houses up my other grandparents lived on the flat. That means you open the front door and you were in the living room. What can I say about my ninny Lawson and bob (granddad)? Nin was very inoffensive lady who was forever in debt and was until she died. But I loved her and the jam butties she continuously made me. I called granddad "Bob" because no one checked me as I was growing up I heard Nin call him "Bob" so I did and it stuck. Bob was a carter, but he would do anything because work was hard to come by in the thirties. On most days he would walk the length of the dock road looking for work (8 miles). If he couldn't get a job working with horses he would go to the "Pen" (this was for Dockers only). This is where casual workers stood together hoping to get work. A foreman would pick so many out and the rest would have to try again tomorrow.

I hadn't been at school long when my dad asked me would I like a ride on his bike. He had fitted a seat on the back just for me. I don't recall where we were going but during the journey I was trying to get my feet on the axle together but only being little, I just couldn't make it. Consequently I overbalanced and my left foot went into the spokes, I suspect the axle bored into my ankle. In the hospital, the doctor told my dad "another quarter inch and he would have crippled". However they fitted an iron on my foot and for probably four or five weeks I couldn't walk. I was back to school as soon as I could walk, I probably drove my mother up the wall.

It was a case of "The survival of the fittest" around where we lived. If you were soft, you were bullied, so it was a case of standing up for yourself. There was a gang of kids aged seven to nine and there was a continual battle to be "cock-o-the-gang". Billy Stewart, who lived over the road from us, was the instigator of any trouble that was around. My battles with Billy are worth a mention. Anyone that could beat Billy was the cock. We had a few skirmishes but two big ones that stand out, the first was outside of the cobblers we started to fight and one of the bigger boys interfered and I ended up losing that one. Then a week or so later we started again, this time were outside my nins. Now Grandad "Bob" used to like to sit at the front door on a chair out of sight of the neighbours, he happened to be there when we started the fight. Billy was like a bull at a gate, Bob just said "uppercut lad" so every time Billy came in head down I would uppercut him. After a few right uppercuts to his nose he saw blood and run home crying. Next morning as I got ready for school Mrs Stewart came over with Billy and said "Have you seen the state of him" pointing to his nose. Then she accused my dad of teaching me boxing because he'd bought me a punch ball to practise on. One word led to another and my mother ended up chasing her down the street and up stone steps where her friend lived, she caught her half way up. It was a common thing to see not only children fighting but grown-ups as well. Women fought over kids and pulled the hair out of each other, I remember seeing two brothers who always seemed to be standing together outside moneypennys grocery shop every time you walked by. These two men were about 25-30 and one day they stood toe to toe and knocked hell out of each other for what reason we will never know. Another time, two women fought each other and before it was over their teenage sons were at it as well. Rose Vale was very steep, from Netherfield Road to Great Homer Street so when some kids got scooters (including me) they would go to the top and how someone wasn't killed I'll never know, because LangroveStreet went across and anything could have happened. I recall walking through Langrove Street and as we passed a coal cart (horse drawn) I noticed folded up piece of paper, picking it up I opened it and all I recognised on it was, in the right hand corner was 5/-, I knew that was a sign for five shillings. My friend with me was Bobby Brenan he asked me what it was, I said I don't know and we went home. When I showed it to my dad, he said it was a 5/- postal order and did anyone else know, I told him about bobby. I must say my dad was as honest as the day is long, but this was early in the 1930's and five shillings was a fortune. I suppose what he did next was to test the water. He said "come on lets go" so out we went and sure enough bobby's dad was at the door and shouted over "Alright Tom" what was it he found. My dad told him it was a P.O. for 5/- and he was taking it to the police station. I am a bit vague about the outcome of it all, but he either took it to the police or managed to get back home without being seen and eventually cashed it. But as I said five shillings was a fortune.

Dad couldn't have been much nearer to his work place it was at the bottom of Rose Vale on "Greaty". At the time it was called Criddles & Co cattle foods, later it became Billington & Son Ltd. My dad worked for them for fifty one years they would never employ anyone as loyal as my dad. Sometimes dad would take me down to his work and I used to watch them working, moving the cattle food around. Then loading the wagons for moving the cattle food to the farms all around Lancashire. The smell of the foods and various other products they used was very strong. I used to enjoy going down to the works and the men making a fuss of me, I got to know them all after a while. One of the men used to call me "Dinky" and I often wondered why he called me that name. I found out much later, apparently when my dad was in this teens he was called "Dinky" so this man carried it on with me. My dad had been at Billingtons from the age of 16yrs and retired after 51yrs there.

In Rose Vale them days there was a corner shop that sold everything and was always open till late at night. Mr Dorr's run the shop with his wife, nearly everyone got their stuff on the slate. It was only a converted house but he must have made a small fortune. My dad used to send me for 5 Players Weights every night, it was only a few doors away from where we lived. During my childhood, Gt Homer St. was full of shops, every conceivable trade. Duffys were on the corner of Rose Vale they sold almost everything such as toiletries, iron work such as flat irons, kettles and pans etc. There were butchers, cake shops, grocers, chemists on both sides. If you go down there now I don't think you will see a shop. On Saturday these days they have a big market place.

King George V and Queen Mary opened the tunnel in 1935-36. The two monuments are still there to this day at the entrance to the "Kings" tunnel.

Another ritual when we lived off Great Homer St. was the trips along to Cazeneau St. Market. Every Saturday evening we'd be marched around the market and sometimes ended up walking into London Road. I remember us going into T.J's and my dad bought me a watch, a pocket watch for 2/6d, that's about 15 or 16 pence in modern money. The big fish market in Ranelagh Street was another haunt of ours on Saturday evenings. Everything was sold there, fish, meat, fruit and vegetables. I distinctly remember seeing a man walking pas a meat counter and sliding a joint of meat into his bag. It was the 1930s and a lot of people were on the breadline. I told my mother, but she told me to take no notice, it wasn't our business.

The Mersey tunnel was being built about now and quite a lot of men were employed to get it done. It must have been hazardous because quite a few of them were killed. I remember walking through Cazeneau St. Market and I heard an old man saying to somebody "She's just lost her husband in the tunnel", he was talking about his daughter.

The environment and living conditions couldn't have been much worse. My Nin would regularly open the door to the landlord and show him a huge rat on her shovel. It was so bad my uncle Vic who lived with my dad's sister Ethel laid traps for the vermin. The traps he used were the kind that caught them live, and then he'd get Nigger and Ginger the two cats ready then release the rat which didn't have a chance. Some of the neighbours did things you couldn't forget. Such as Mrs Riley, she had a gang of kids but she was a Roman Catholic and she took a lot of abuse from other people. One particular day the ganged up to get her out, my mother came to the door and in no uncertain manner she told them what she thought of them. Our next door neighbour Mrs Riley was very grateful for the help. The Johnson twins were my age and not matter what the weather they'd come out in bare feet and if it rained they would dam the gutters with lots of paper and then have a ball trampling in the water. Then there was Jessie Sefton who lived a couple of doors away from us. She had two boys Ronnie and Gene and a husband she was forever fighting with. She had a foul mouth and was always borrowing things mostly from my mother. Ronnie was about my age and didn't seem to be too bright. I don't know much about Gene, he was younger than me. The boys were left to defend themselves, according to the stories, Ronnie ended up the top man in the "Fire Service" and Gene was a Catholic Priest.

My Nin used to take me to the "Tivoli" we called it the "Tivvy" to see Cowboy pictures. We went to the "Rosscommon "("Rossy") as well, she loved cowboy films. Some of the films were silent ones and I remember the first talking picture coming to the "Tivvy". Everyone seemed amazed and couldn't believe it. Nin got quite carried away when she was watching the old westerns. When the baddie was creeping up on the hero of the film to hit him over the head, she used to shout "Look out, he's behind you". She never seen television but I am sure she would have loved it. My other Nin didn't take me to the pictures as often as Nin Lawson but when she did, she got so excited she would screw my cap up and kept on doing it until the end of the film. She used to take me to a cinema near where St. Josephs School is in Cazeneau St. close to town. I think it was called "The Gaity". It's not there now in fact I don't know if the school is still there.

J ust a little story about Christmas. I remember one xmas we had a party at Rose Vale house everyone who came brought me a present, the bed was littered with gifts, of course I thought Father Christmas brought them I was about 5 or 6 at the time. When I was about 8 or 9, I was walking along Grt. Homer St. with my mother and out of the blue, she said "There isn't any Father Christmas". I thought my world had collapsed and was so disappointed.

In 1930 my mother gave birth to my sister Ethel, I remember being disappointed because I had been promised a toy motor car.

During our trips to my Nins in Rockery St. there was a period when my mother cried a lot, I couldn't understand why but later on I found out she had lost a baby between me and Ethel.

My mother didn't get on with Aunty Betty, her eldest sister. One night Betty turned up at our front door called up the stairs "are you there Sarah". My mother came down to see what she wanted and was met with a battering, she obviously didn't expect. Her husband Alf stood on the other side of the road egging her on. I was put to bed afterwards so I didn't know what went on. I found out years later, my mother followed her (Betty) back to Rockeby St. and reversed the decision if you know what I mean.

I was only nine years old in 1934 and I think my parents had enough and decided to move. A family called Sinnott lived next door to Nin Walling, MRS Sinnott had two bachelor brothers who lived in Orwell Road Kirkdale. They offered us the use of the house except for the front room and one of the bedrooms. Now, Kirkdale is only little over two miles from Rose Vale, but my mother thought we were going posh, so she told us "In future, call me mother" from then she was always Mother not Mam. We moved in and met up with the brothers, Willy the eldest and Arthur. Willy was an army man, an ex-Sgt Major in the regular army and had a huge handlebar moustache and was continuously stroking it. Arthur was a small quiet man who was quite a good artist and encouraged me to draw, which I loved doing then and still do.

We had to find a school and St. Lawrence's C of E in Croyland Street was the most convenient. So I started school there and my teacher was a Miss Marsh, a complete terror who carried a tapered stick about two feet long. If anyone stepped out of line in any shape or form, that stick went into action. Some of us actually thought she was a man in disguise. The heads name was Mr Nevitt, we all called him Ben Nevis after the mountain (Ben Nevis). He was fine and a nice man who, when we went to Westminster Road baths for swimming he would always get in with us. There were some characters in this school, two of them were my best mates Ronnie Smith and Arthur Williams, another pal was Charlie Rimmer. Arthur Williams went into the Navy later on and during his first leave died in a fire trying to save two children who were under the stairs. He was only eighteen years of age. Ronnie Smith was the class joker, and got me into more trouble than anybody else. One lad named Grenfell, a ginger headed trouble maker who wanted to have a go with me. So after school hours at 4 o'clock we met by the toilets, a big crowd turned up and we started to fight. I was doing well, I caught him a few times and was finding it easy. Then true to form a lad called Billy Dorman who was much bigger than the rest pushed Grenfell against me, I fell and smashed my head against the wall. He was carried shoulder high as the winner. Mr Jones was one of the teachers at this school. He was always reading, while we were working and never looked as though he was interested in what we were doing. But if anyone stepped out of line, like talking or copying he'd have us out to give us six of the best with his cane. The other teacher was Mr Rowland's, I wasn't keen on him with good reason. There was a girl I liked in the school her name was Lily Corkish. One day I sent her a love letter, her mother found it and took it to Mr Rowland's. Next morning at assembly he read it out to the whole school and then asked who wrote it. I kept quiet, hoping that would be it, but he called me out and made me admit it was my writing. It took me a long time to live it down, one or two from school were in the Boys Brigade so that made it worse. Ronnie Smith had two teeth growing either side of his mouth like Dracula when he was at school. Years later when I started for John Duggan in scaffolding, who was driving the wagon only Ronnie minus all his teeth. He could bit an apple in half with his gums. We had a good chat about old times and after that we worked together quite a lot. I haven't seen him for at least 20 years.

I've mentioned my dad playing football, I went to one of his last games at a playing field off Dwerryhouse Lane. I remember he scored two goals in that match but what sticks in my mind was after the match. One of his mates called Horace stuck something in my hand and when I looked, it was a half crown. When your pocket money is only 1d or 2d, half crown was a small fortune. Today it's worth twelve and a half pence.

My dad started to take me to Westminster Road baths on Sunday mornings. He taught me to swim after a bit and I used to really love going on Sundays. I used to go with the school later on, but Sundays were the best. My dad used to dive in and do about 5 or 6 lengths and he was happy with that.

Arthur Williams my friend accidentally tripped me up going down a flight of stone steps in school and I landed on my head. The bump was a beauty and my mother hit the roof over it. A few months later I was playing football in the playground, the ball was kicked high, I was walking backwards , Jimmy Bert was walking forward and both of us were going for the ball, I turned around to see the ball and collided with Jimmy head to head. Consequences were I landed up with another egg on my forehead. This was all part of growing up the year was 1935, I was 10 yrs. old.

When we lived in rose Vale I remember on a Friday night every week my dad with 4 or 5 footballs. Those days the balls were leather and need the inner tubes blown up and then dubbin was rubbed into the leather to preserve it. My dad played football for over 20 years for various amateur clubs, he was a right winger and was good. He would often enjoy a kick around with the kids in the street until the police came. Those days it was illegal to play in the street. Football was priority with my dad and he had me the same way, after he took me to Scotland Road to see Everton bringing the F.A. Cup home 1932-33. I'll always remember the open topped coach and Dixie Dean holding the cup over his head. I was on my dad's shoulders and I was almost 8yrs of age, that day I became an Evertonian.

 My dad took me when he could to Goodison Park but with playing himself he couldn't take me regular. When I got to 10 or 11 he would let me go to matches but I had to go in the boy's pen which was safer than the actual ground. I loved the atmosphere in the ground and them days all teams had mascots. Everton had two men, one was Mr Williams who lived close to us and he used to dress up as a policeman. The uniform was made up of blue and white patches and he carried a blue and white umbrella. At the matches he would come to the boy's pen after going around the ground and start to sing "The Umbrella Man" made famous by Flanagan & Allen. Everyone joined in with him and it was brilliant. Mr Williams went to Birmingham to an away game, it was a blustery day and his helmet blew off and in trying to retrieve it, he was killed by a bus. The other mascot Mr Jones dressed up in a suit and a tall top hat (all blue and white) he was funny and made everyone laugh with his antics.

I had the bug now, I couldn't keep away from the ground. I looked for players for their autographs and had some good ones. We were playing Preston N.E. about 1937, their coach was outside the player's entrance. I asked one of the players for his autograph and he asked me did I want the rest of the team, a few minutes later I had the whole Preston team. I was going to a match once with my dad and we were somewhere near the players entrance when this man, who was very well dressed asked my dad to let him take me in the main stand on a spare ticket. My dad agreed and it was like being in paradise, looking down onto the pitch from a great height. I was only 10 yrs. of age, can you see any father to-day agreeing to that.

Between the years 1935-1939 was probably the best years of my childhood. There were no T.V's no computers no mobile phones, no internet etc. But there was so much to do starting with after school I'd go to the "Rec" in Sessions Road. All my mates would be there with a ball of any size and we would start a game, we'd play till we dropped, I'd get home sweating like a pig. Apart from football there was loads of different games we played, even if it was only "Tick" that meant chasing each other till we touched. We would go to the cinema, a matinee, to see a western. The cowboy heroes then were, Buck Jones, Ken Maynard, Tom Mix and Dick Feran (singing cowboy). When we got outside we'd use our imagination and re-enact what we'd seen. Great Fun.

My dad was always into boxing his idol was Nell Tarleton who was British Featherweight Champion who fought for the world title against Freddie Miller the American World Champ. There was an amateur contest between The Army and The Police. Dad took me to the Carisbrooke tram sheds to see the show. The guest of honour was Nell Tarleton and as we went down the stairs on our way out my dad said "Do you want to meet him". I couldn't believe my ears and before I knew it I was shaking hands with the great Nell Tarleton and getting my hair ruffled. I couldn't get to school fast enough to tell my mates the next day. A boxer called Billy Gammons was the only British boxer who can claim a win over Freddie Miller The World Champ and that was on a low blow disqualification. I remember walking up Utting Avenue with my parents and my dad said "Quick, get some paper and a pencil you can get Billy Gammons autograph". The boxer lived in Norris Green and where the pencil and paper came from, I don't know, but I got his autograph.

It was about this time my parents had a surprise for me. It was my birthday (I can't remember which) and they had bought me a bike. It was a three quarter size sit up type and practically new. They had only paid 1 guinea for it and that was £1/1 shilling (5p). I enjoyed that bike for a long time, I don't know what happened to it.

Every now and then my mother used to take me to West Derby where my Aunty Betty lived. I used to love going there because she used to give us jelly and custard, cakes, biscuits and everything we didn't get at home. I remember we went on Sunday and my cousin, Aunty Betts youngest boy had just died. I don't know what killed him, but he was only about 4yrs old. I remember his hair was very curly and I said to my mother "I think he moved". Uncle Alf who was Aunty Betts husband was a strange man, being so young I can't go into any details. But he was a football referee who had occasionally refereed some of my dad's matches. At the same time, I don't think he was very good to Aunty Betty and I believe he eventually disappeared. Her eldest daughter was Mary who in later years joined the W.R.A.F and was posted to Blackpool about the same time I was in the R.A.F. We were supposed to get together but it never happened and I never saw her while I was there.

I was probably about 11 or 12 yrs. old when we moved to a rented house in Stour Street which was actually the next street to Orwell Road. I think the fact that old Willie liked to cook and the kitchen was so small, my mother wanted more room. So when this house came up, she jumped at the chance, my dad just went along with it, anything for a quiet life. I made some new friends in Stour Street, a family who lived a couple of doors away were Williams, dad, Billy, Teddy & John. John was nearest my age, so I got on quite well with him. Their mother had died, leaving the 3 boys and dad who worked at the silk works in Aintree (later "Caurtalds"). He worked long hours at the factory and so the boys had the run of the house. Consequently the kids would all congregate at their house which was quite a mess, probably because there was no woman there. Next door to us a woman called Mrs Mason lived with her father and her son Frankie, she was a busybody who knew everybody's business. I remember her father worked in a bakery and he told us once, that malt loaf was made from the sweeping up in the bakery. I believed that for quite a long time.

Before we moved Nin, Bob and Aunty Ethel and her family had moved from Rose Vale up to Orwell Road. I used to hear Bob cobbling his or somebody's boots and cursing when he accidently hit his finger with his hammer. As it was when we moved it turned out that our back yard was opposite Nins so it was easy to go across to see them.

In those days there were plenty of cinemas, our local ones were "The Garrick", The Deric, The Victory, The Astoria and The Queens, the last 3 being in the same road (Walton Road). The town was full of them as well, like the "Paramount", The Forum, Palace de luxe, The Scala, mix these with theatres here and there, there was plenty of entertainment. I remember as a little boy going to the "Rotunda" this was a music hall situated at the point where Stanley Road comes to meet Scotland Road on the left hand side. No microphones were used, because when the artistes were on you could hear a pin drop. When the comics were on there was lots of laughter. A lot of the comedy was slapstick stuff, so it was quite funny. My dad used to like going to the Empire just to see big bands like Ambrose & his Orchestra, Lew Stone, Joe Loss and others. Ambrose had a young woman singer who my dad liked called Vera Lynn. Later on in years she became famous and was the "Forces Sweetheart" during the oncoming war.

It was coming to the end of the thirties Hitler was looking to invade the small countries of Europe. Around this time I joined the Boys Brigade Liverpool 8th Troop. I managed to play the drums in the band and enjoyed the gymnasium work we did to keep fit. We went on camping trips, once we went to Ilkley in Yorkshire. It was a very small town but there was a few shops including a Woolworths. One day two of the boys and myself went through "Woolies" and I noticed they were looking to steal something. They picked up a toy pipe each and move d to the door and legged it, with me after them. Why I was running I don't know, because I didn't take anything, we were never caught anyway.

In 1936 I moved to senior school at Lambeth Road. This was a new school built about a year before I got there. It was a modern school in every way. I'd never heard of Science, Biology, Poetry (heard of it never done it) and a teacher for every subject. Mr Rigby was the English teacher S.H. Williams was Maths, the other Mr Williams was Biology/Geography, Mr Ellison was History and Mr Last was P.T. Instruction. Mr Rigby was an absolute terror who would have us recite poetry and if you said a word wrong he'd bang his cane on the desk and would crook his finger and call you out. When you got within arm's length he'd grab you by the sideboards and twist until you were on your toes. It hurt and brought tears to your eyes. I used to sweat every time I went into his class. He was quite tall with a hook nose and I believe he was killed during the Second World War. D.H. Williams was a footballer who was centre half and captain for Marine F.C. in Crosby. I remember once it was his birthday and between all the class we bought him an alarm clock, he was delighted. The lad who gave him the clock got the cane later in the day for misbehaving. Another day we settled down in our desks and he told us to get our books out for a maths lesson. Someone said "Please sir can we play football. At first he said "No" but kept looking out of the window, in the end he said "Go and get the ball". We all cheered and finished up playing a smashing game of football, because the playground was almost as big as a football pitch. Mr Last was a tall stocky man who used to have us doing all sorts of exercises in the gym. One of them was a very complicated routine which I found hard to follow. We were going through this routine when I was given an almighty smack on my back. It completely knocked the breath out of me and I was so frightened it was going to happen again I got down to doing the routine. I could do it so good, after a while he had me out in front showing the rest how to do it. This proves that if you concentrate enough you can do anything. The imprint of his hand was evident for anyone to see on my back. Mr Ellison was History teacher who was quite a sportsman and liked a game of football, but a good teacher. The other Mr Williams was a Geography teacher which was my favourite subject. To this day I love to look through Atlas's and books to do with Geography. Lambeth Road school also had a girls dept. as well as a boys. I believe it was pulled down in the Sixties and houses were but on the site. Just before the war broke out, we were in class and we heard something that sounded like and explosion. Later, through the radio and newspapers we learnt that a fighter plane piloted by a twenty one year old who was just testing the plane, crashed into a house in Royal Street off Walton Road, and Everton Valley. He was killed instantly and he was a minute from Stanley Park.

In 1939 I was 14 yrs. old. I was in bed one Sunday morning when my mother came upstairs crying and said "The War's started" the P.M. Mr Neville Chamberlain had given Hitler an ultimatum that if he invaded Poland we would declare war against Germany. He Invaded Poland.

With the war everything was topsy turvy especially the schools, they were closed for a while. My school was closed and about this time Mr Harrison Captain of B.B. came to see me and offered me a job in his office on the docks at Canada South 2 Shed. My mother went to the school to get my reference from the headmaster. My job was office boy who stuck stamps on envelopes and commuted between Bankhall Station to Pier Head on the overhead railway (Dockers umbrella) four or five times a day, delivering letters to West Africa House where the main office of the American Steamship Lines Ageway (ASLA) this was the name of the company.

The dock road was bouncing them days, horse & carts everywhere, ships galore coming in. Our particular dock brought in American Ships and the sheds were crammed full of bales of cotton from the Southern States of USA. Being so young I used to like to go on board the ships and the sailors were good to me. I can only remember the name of one ship that used to come from America and that was The "Cripple Creek".

When I was in the office for any length of time I would practice signatures. There were four men in the office and I could do all their signatures quite good. This job was interesting because during my trips on the overhead I met other office boys doing the same job. One lad had the same name as me R. Lawson only "R" was for Ronny, he got me smoking for the first time on the train.

About this time my mother's brother was having trouble with his wife for quite a while, but now she'd left him with 3 kids Betty, Leonard and Irene was only a baby less than two. He was in a fix and needed someone to take the kids on. My mother said she'd do it, so she took them in. She had problems with the two eldest but that could be expected. Their mother had gone off with someone to London but about 12 months or so afterwards she came back and was threatening to take the kids away. At the time I was 14 and my mother got me in the back kitchen and told me to get on my bike and go to Jims and tell him what was going on. He lived off the Queens Drive and I had to knock him up, he worked nights. When I told him, I couldn't believe how cool he was, he just said "I'll be down soon". I rode home and now that I look back, he must have got a taxi, he was there at the same time as me. He walked up the hall at Stour Street called her out and knocked her half way up the stairs and then proceeded to beat her up and then threw her out. She did come back again but mostly to see the kids. My social life changed a bit too, I started to go to the north park for ballroom dancing in a huge marquee. The "Anniversary Waltz" is a tune I always associate with those days. A lady would play piano in the corner of the room for us to dance to. Most of the kids were only from 13-16 and to see them all dancing the waltz, tango and quickstep was nice to see. I couldn't see it today.

The job lasted 6 months and the firm went bust so I needed another job, I'd got used to my wages of 10 shillings a week (50p). I used to buy my mother a bar of Aero and a magazine every pay day, not bad out of 2/6 (25p) the rest went to my mother.

My dad asked me, would I fancy working in Tyson's builders, and I said I wouldn't mind. He only worked around the corner from Tyson's and knew the manager Jack Smith. I had my interview on a Saturday morning along with my dad and Mr Smith; he outlined what I would be doing. The first couple of years I would work with the woodcutting machinists and then at 16 I would start my apprenticeship. I remember being disappointed because the money was less than my previous job, five old pennies less. My dad said "don't worry, you're in a trade now". I started work on Monday morning and I made the mistake of going in a suit, I don't know what I expected to happen. We were using "Jarrah" an African hardwood. Peter used to set the machine up so he'd put a rough sawn 4 x 1 through and it would come out planed all round with a tongue and groove. It was so hard it threw up a dust instead of shavings. So consequently every orifice on my body was covered in "Jarra Dust". I walked home along Great Homer Street into Smith Street and Westminster Road, I made sure the next day I wore something more suitable for the job. I enjoyed my job even though Peter was very strict, he was very funny at times. After a bad night during the blitz Peter was full of it and started with his stories. He said "This fighter/bomber chased him up the street so he ran through an entry and the plane folded its wings in and carried on chasing him. Another time, he got one of the joiners to make him a tool box and then he had it painted. When he went to get it, it had gone Bobby Skello had pinched it. Peter went mad and swore he'd find out who it was and what he'd do to them. Bobby went in the army soon after and it was later that Peter found out who it was that took his box. Bobby came home in 1947 but Peter conveniently forgot about it.

During my time working on the machines, I met a few lads who ended up lifelong friends. Bobby Hoyland was an apprentice machinist who wasn't very popular, he was sarcastic and was just plain nasty to everyone. One day he upset me with something he said and I had a go at him, ever since then we got on ok and became good friends and went out at night together. Bobby Skelton was another machinist apprentice who I made good friends with. Bobby lived at the bottom end of Rose Vale with his parents and brothers (3) and sisters (2). Joe Doran was an apprentice joiner later on like myself, but was helping machinists until he was 16yrs old. Joe was a good footballer and showed his skills in dinner hours in Dryden Street, when we would have a good kick around. I remember Joe starting, his granddad brought him over to the office and he started the next day. Georgie Bell was a bit older than us and had just started his apprenticeship. He was only short and was rather cocky because of it, over the few years I worked with him he got into a lot of trouble with his attitude.

Every now and again the foreman, Harry Morris would send me to town for door and window furniture. Quiggins Bros. in Renshaw St. sold high class stuff, when I received the furniture I had to sign for it. Anyway one day I was called into the works office and the foreman said they wanted me in the upstairs office. When I asked why he said they were impressed with my writing and could use me upstairs. I started in the office, checking time sheets, work sheets, even used the switchboard now and again. Making the tea was another job for me to do, there were about a dozen people in the office, so the tea was a big job, three times a day. Ernie Tyson Harold Tyson, Les Tyson were the bosses but Ernie's secretary ruled the roost. Her name was Gladys Dickie and was about 35-37yrs old. She would take wages to various jobs, a couple of them were in Warrington. Her car was a classic "Austin" like the police cars of the forties and fifties. She used to say "Come on Bobby you can come with me". When she got into the car she'd pull her skirt up for comfort and I didn't know where to look, I swear she did it purposely. Some days when I was making the tea upstairs she'd come out with her knickers wet and put them on the oven to dry. Her sister Gwen was a nice lady and a couple of years younger than Gladys, her husband was killed in action and she walked into the Mersey at Crosby and committed suicide.

Harold Tyson was the stuck up one of the family. I took a cup of tea into him once and he wanted to see my hands, when I showed him he made me take the tea and biscuits back and wash them. Gladys used to flash a solid gold cigarette case and would boast that Ernie Tyson gave it to her, question was what did she have to do for it. Gladys used to breeze in dressed to kill in the morning and Mrs Barry the office cleaner who was a funny woman, used to give me a look and say "Fur coat, no drawers"

A chap called George O'Keefe was one of the clerks and did his best to upset me. Being only 15 yrs. old I had to do as I was told. He made me do jobs that really weren't my work. The worst thing he done one time, I had a pocket watch my dad had given me, in my back pocket and he kicked me as he went past me and smashed the watch. I was fuming and asked him what he was going to do about it, he did say he'd give me some money but he never did. A nasty piece of work if ever there was one.

The war was well on the way, in ~France and General Montgomery was chasing Rommel through North Africa. I was still in the office when the air raid sirens went off for the first time. It was only a false alarm but it caused a lot of concern and excitement. The next morning, Gladys was full of it and in her excitement she said "When they went off, I kicked Will out of bed", now in 1940/41 something like that was frowned upon. Will was her boyfriend and was a gas man.

It was 1941 and the war was going strong, we'd had a few raids which did some damage and everyone had to get used to the shelters. Then May came along and it came with a vengeance. We had a brick shelter between us and Mrs Mason and for almost 10 days we practically lived in the shelter.

I had to coax Gladys to let me go down to the joiners shop to start my time. She said she thought I'd be better off staying put, but eventually she let me go.

Tyson's had a scheme going on they took one shilling out of our wages and added the same each week so at the end of 20 weeks we'd get a tool order for £2. Then I would go down to Manchester Street in town and get some tools.

So my first day on the bench I was put with Tommy Martindale who was an excellent tradesman. He said "You need a tool box so go down to Tommy Cartwright and tell him you want some yellow pine for a box". Tommy showed me how to set it out and then did one corner of dovetails and left the rest to me, and under his watchful eye I finished it and was quite proud of it.

One morning we all arrived at Dryden St. for work and some wardens had condemned the joiners shop off. There had been an unexploded bomb landed in the middle of the factory, George Bell and myself were concerned for our tools, they were all fairly new then. We asked the warden could we go and get the, he emphatically said "No you can't". We must have been mad really because when I think about it now, it makes me wonder. George and I decided to wait until the warden wasn't looking, we run in the shop, walked past the actual crater the bomb had made and could see the top of the bomb. We picked our tool boxes up and walked back out, the warden gave us a right dressing down and was quite justified. It was a silly thing to do because it was a 150lb bomb and would have blown us to smithereens, I don't think I told my parents about it. After it was defused that bomb stood on a stand in the office reception area for a few years with a plague with the day/month/year it was dropped.

Tyson's moved me to Paul Street where all the big woodcutting machines were, we were making frames with 1 ½ x 1 timber about 3ft square with asbestos on both sides with wood shavings for insulation. They actually put these frames together to make accommodation for American troops. But from our point of view, all it really was knocking nails in, cutting asbestos and we had to wear gloves because the timber was full of preservatives and always wet. Not a nice job at all, so when Georgie Bell asked me did I fancy joining the army, I said "let's go". We went to Renshaw Hall in town and went through a medical and was virtually in, but I was under 17 ¾ so I needed a letter from Tyson's releasing me from essential works and a letter off my parents allowing me to go. My dad wasn't all that bothered as long as I knew what I wanted. I stopped my foreman, Harry Morris in the joiners shop and told him I was joining the army, he said sarcastically which army, the boy's army. Anyway he passed the message onto Mr Smith the Manager, it was a race who would get to my dad first, me or Smithy, and he won. He talked my dad around and he told me I wasn't going. Mr Smith called me into the office and asked me what the problem was, when I told him I didn't think I was learning anything doing what I was doing, he promised he would do something about it. They let Georgie Bell go, he was a little older and didn't need permission.

I got into dancing and frequently went to Blair Hall in Walton Road, we used to look forward to going there. I had also joined the army cadets at Gordon Institute, Kirkdale and had met Teresa Hynes who lived locally. Teresa was a nice girl who had been at Notre Dame School in Everton Valley, we got on well together but I didn't want to get too serious. This went on for a couple of years, she even used to call for Ethel to take her to the baths. Everyone liked her in my family, but I felt as though I was being pressured. A young sailor kept getting her up to dance in Blair Hall and one night I told her to get to know this lad better. It worked, she started going out with him and I felt a lot better. Later on when I was in the R.A.F., I had second thoughts about her, but on my leave she told me she was engaged to the sailor. I believe they married, had 5 kids and she ended up mayoress of Kirkby.

Getting back to May, we really got a hammering, being May the nights were quite light. I remember standing with my mother at the door of the shelter and watching a German bomber getting shot down over the Mersey. We were so close to the docks where we lived, as the crow flies it was only about one mile. I'd built a set of bunks in the shelter because we were in there a long time, one night we were just sitting talking when my dad threw himself over as many of us as he could, just for seconds I heard a ripping sound. When you could hear that sound it was close, my dad must have heard it first and reacted right away. A massive explosion occurred, it was in the next street and one man was killed. Another time I was in a barbers shop on Westminster Road about 5 o'clock at night and the anti-aircraft guns started, sometimes the A.A. started before the sirens. Anyway I jumped up with half a haircut and said something about coming back tomorrow, I don't know whether I did. When I look back to the days of the blitz, I regret what I put my dad through, being a teenager when I could, I was going out with my mates. When I got home I'd want to go to bed and did so a lot of the time, consequently I was asleep while the air-raid was on. My dad used to run in the house and call up the stairs "Eh my lad, get down here into this shelter" Most of the time it fell on deaf ears, but apart from my own safety, I was putting my dad in danger as well.

A young lad called Eric Collins went around all the shelters and said there was an unexploded bomb in the entry, everybody panicked and didn't know what to do. It turned out it was an outer case of a burnt out incendiary bomb and the panic was over.

We lived in Stour St. Kirkdale during the blitz and the next street was Dart Street, there were stables in Dart Street with 4 or 5 houses in it, they were all killed by a direct hit on the stables. My dad was working nights, mainly fire watching and I knew my mother and the kids would be on their own. However, he was still there because his boss told him "Tommy, if it starts before you leave on your bike stay put". Another night it started early and dad stayed at home, the following day he was told his two mates who he would have been with, had been killed while they stood at Billingtons gate, on Great Homer Street.

Everyone who could would help with fire watching, I did it myself in Tyson's, you would sleep on the premises and every couple of hours someone would keep watch. I did it with Bobby Hoyland and 2 or 3 men and at 16yrs of age it was an adventure. My uncle Will Flanagan did his stint in Croylands Street where he lived with Aunty Peg and kids, Billy, Jackie & Mary. It was the same street that St. Lawrence's School was in, it was the Sunday, towards the end of the May blitz and it wasn't very heavy, and everyone was relieved. The next morning there was a knock on the door, I opened it and the headmistress of the school stood there, she said "Is your mother in" "I said no she's out shopping". I was shocked when she said "Mr Flanagan was killed last night outside of Woolworths on Walton Road, I run up Orwell Road into Westminster Road as I was going up Bradewell St, I saw my mother near the Fire Station. When I got to her, I broke the bad news she was completely shocked and cried. I took her shopping, to allow her to go over to Aunty Peg. Mother told me to go down to my Ninny Walling's and tell her, I may have gone on my bike from Tyson's in my dinner time, it's all a bit mixed up, but I did go down and I remember telling her. I was thinking why did she get her lovely haircut, a strange thought really in the circumstances. It was a terrible shock to her and she asked me to take her over the road to my Aunty Nellies to tell her. Nellie was scrubbing the living room floor and she was on her knees when we told her, she was shattered and cried her eyes out. My Nin never seemed right after that and she died a year or so later, she was only in her sixties. Uncle Will was apparently so badly cut up, they wouldn't let anyone identify him, my dad offered to identify him but they said "No". He was eventually buried in a mass grave at Anfield Cemetery, but before that, Aunty Peg wanted him at home in a closed coffin. On the Wednesday after, they came over again and a Land Mine dropped on Croylands Street and destroyed half the street. The whole front of Aunty Peg's house was ruined and the coffin was in the front room. We found out later that Billy did see his dad before the ambulance came, he said he couldn't describe how bad he was, and Billy was only 18 yrs. old at the time. He swore vengeance on any Germans, he joined the army, he was stationed in Germany and ironically he married a German girl and had 2 daughters. Later they emigrated to America and he died of Leukaemia after a couple of years. I remember ringing his brother Jackie to see how he was and he told me Billy had died, Aunty Peg had gone out to be with him at the end. Before he went to America he was in the police force, he and I were always close, especially when we were children. Aunty Nellie, at the time of writing is 94 yrs. old and is in a home, she is the last of my mother's family still alive.

Around this time I joined the army cadets at the Gordon Institute in Stanley Road, Kirkdale. We did lots of sports including football, boxing, snooker and gymnastics, apart from military maneavours and firing ranges which I enjoyed.

Ballroom dancing became a new interest for myself and my friends, we'd started going to Blair Hall in Walton Road, on the corner of Christopher Street, also to Lambeth Road School (my old school). Bobby Skelton and me started going to Campbell's school of dancing in Breck Road, Mother, Father, Son & Daughter run the classes, they taught us all the main dances.

The lads I worked with often got together at weekends and spent a lot of our time hanging around Stanley Road and Lambeth Road. I think it was because the Gordon Institute was so close, there were a lot of unsavoury characters around there, during those years and you had to be on your toes. I remember walking along the main road with Bob Skello and someone stuck a foot out and tripped Bobby up. I grabbed him to keep him walking, but he got away from me and went back to the doorway, the next thing someone hit him and knocked him into the road, before he could get up this lad was on him and they wrestled around for a while. Then Bob shouted me over, I went over and as I got there, the other lad shouted "Now lads" and 3 or 4 moved forward, you can be brave but not stupid, so I grabbed Bobby and we ran like hell. The shop doorway was "The Maypole" a very deep doorway that's why we didn't see them, plus it was the blackout. We got some of the lads from the Gordon and went back but they had gone. I started to go out with Bobby Hoyland and was enjoying myself and started to think maybe I'd be better off out of the army.

The firm had sent me down to Leece Street Labour Exchange to fill forms out to exempt me until I was 20yrs old. In the meantime Mr Smith sent me to New Brighton to work with an old chap called Billy Simms working on an anti-aircraft site manned entirely by women. We were doing shuttering for reinforced walls around the guns. It was much different from the other work I'd been doing, the only snag was the foreman on the site he was a pig. To get there it was a bus, then train then quite a walk after, sometimes either the bus was late or the train, consequently I was a few minutes late some mornings and he'd give me hell and really make it tough. He went too far one day and I lost it and went for him with a piece of 2 x 2. If they hadn't stopped me I swear I'd have split his head open, I was fuming, strangely enough I wasn't sent back to the shop and he wasn't too bad after that. By this time I had turned 18yrs and was enjoying life. Although the site was manned by women the quarter master was a man who offered me a pair of army boots on the cheap, so I bought them. When I got home I showed my parents the boots and my dad made a remark about the forces having plenty of boots like them, I was baffled. My mother said "Tell him" my dad handed me an envelope, I opened it up, it was my calling up papers and a letter saying "We need men of your industrial qualifications". So I thought I'll be in my own trade anyway. The following day I went to the office in Dryden Street and asked about my deferment from the forces but they just said you have got them now, so you'll just have to go.

R .A.F No. 2225885

It was the R.A.F. I was going into and in late September 1943 I reported to Padgate, Warrington. I got there by bus and I never felt so isolated, probably because I'd never been away from home before, except to Ilkley and the Isle of Man with St. Lawrence's. When I got on the camp there were loads of lads the same age as me, I mated up with a lad from Moss Side in Manchester, he was about 6'-1" and his voice hadn't even broke, his name was Tom Tyrer (He later became an Airframe fitter.) We were given a meal and they asked questions for the records. The next day we were given an aptitude test, the outcome of which, we had to be interviewed by this Sergeant. After asking me basic questions to do with joinery he suddenly said "How would you like to be a Wireless Operator", I told him I knew nothing about it. Apparently I got 98% in the test, which involved listening to morse signals and we had to say whether the signals were the same or not. When I said I didn't want to be an operator the Sergeant said "You're in the Air Force now lad, you will be a wireless op". We did 8 weeks training which involved foot slogging on the square, firing on the range, route marches and assault courses.

Two of the lads at Padgate were from Belfast Northern Ireland, Bobby McCracker was one and I don't recall the other lad's name, only that he had a beautiful tenor voice and used to sing Irish songs a lot. He was also a semi-professional footballer and played for "Distillery" a semi-pro team in Northern Ireland. They were alright but were too involved in religion, when I first met them Bobby asked me what religion I was, at the time I was C of E and said so. He said "That's alright then", I am convinced if I'd have gone the other way he would have dropped me.

While at Padgate, we used to go to the gymnasium a lot, the Sergeant in charge used to always want to put boxing gloves on and encouraged us to spare with him, you could see he knew his stuff. Then we were told who he was, he was Ernie Roderick Ex. Welterweight Champion of Great Britain and had fought Henry Armstrong for the world title, he lost over 15 rounds. I actually had a scrap book at home with that fight in it. He was also brother in law to Nell Tarleton who I mentioned earlier, I was quite proud to have sparred with Ernie.

During my stay at Padgate there were one or two incidents I remember. Weekends meant a pass out and if you lived not too far you could go home. I was only about 20 miles away and me and a lad called Bob Unsworth who lived in Walton used to hitch a ride to Liverpool. If you had a uniform on it was easy to get a lift and you could always get a free ride on trams or buses.

The bayonets we used were old fashioned type about 15ins long, anyway one went missing and we were told if it wasn't found all weekend passes were cancelled. Something had to be done, me and another airman went down to the armoury and while I was getting some oil for my rifle, the other lad stuck a bayonet up his pullover and the problem was solved.

The Sergeant we had was very strict but a very cool customer. One of the lads was a cocky cockney who didn't like the Sergeant and was telling someone in the toilets that he'd like to give him a hiding, what he didn't know was that the Sergeant was in one of the cubicles and heard all this. Later on he came in the hut and asked who'd said it, no one owned up, so he said if anyone fancies their chances he'd take his stripes off and would have a go behind the hut. He also said he would cancel passes for the weekend if nobody owned up. Left on our own we said whoever it was to own up and we would have our weekend passes. Eventually he got some nerve and went into see the Sarg and apologised. They always say there is loads of bull in the army, but the air force wanted some beating.

There was lino on the floor of the huts that had to be polished every day, all the shelves had to be scrubbed clean, the toilets were spotless and everything was inspected. There was an inspection of the ranks (men) every day but this particular day I was told I needed a haircut, I went and got one but told the barber how I wanted it. At afternoon inspection I was told I needed a haircut again, this time I was marched to the barbers and he did it army style, I very nearly didn't go home that weekend.

One lad come from Speke called Mason was religious and used to kneel down and say prayers every night, the chap in the next bed to him was an atheist so you can imagine the arguments. Mason stood by his bed for inspection after the Sergeant called "Stand by your beds". Your blankets had to be folded neatly and piled on top of each other, you're eating utensils layed out along with your soap, razor, comb etc. The Sergeant asked Mason did he shave, he said he never had, so the Sergeant told him to lather his face with soap, and then shave every hair on it. Later on, we caught him shaving his forehead and just stopped him from shaving off his eye brows, he took some stick but never complained.

At the end of 8 weeks training we were all sent on our different courses, I was sent to Blackpool in civvy billets I lived at Albert Road, I can't remember the woman's name, but she was a very good cook. I shared a room with a young man from Jamaica, his name was Ronnie Smellie and he turned out to be the Cycle Champion of Jamaica. My parents came up to Blackpool for a day and I introduced them to Ronnie, my mother was made up because when he shook hands he bowed to them both.

We started training, the 3 subjects were Morse Code, Procedure and Electro Magnetism, at first everything was hard to come to terms with. We did all the training in the Winter Gardens a famous building Blackpool. For Morse the instructor would sit at the end of a long table and transmitted symbols to us, each on represented a letter of the alphabet. It was probably about 4 words a minute at first, but you needed to know the alphabet and I found it hard. After about 2 weeks the corporal pulled one or two of us and said unless we improved we would have to leave the course. So that night I got in my bedroom with the alphabet and studied it for 2 hours or more, at the end of it I could recite the lot, from then on I was able to handle it. E & M was really wireless theory and was hard to understand. Procedure was the method of sending messages with certain signals for the importance of priority. After 3 months in Blackpool most of us got up to 10 words a minute and passed the course. While I was in Blackpool there was a boxing show at the Winter Gardens, it was just amateur boxing but the highlight for me was an exhibition of boxing skills by the great Nell Tarleton. I went along on my own to the show and was looking forward to seeing Nell do his stuff, I wasn't disappointed. He fought 3 rounds with a different boxer each round, he allowed them to corner him they threw punches from all angles and never landed one. He was unique when it came to the art of boxing, one of the boxers took a swing at him and ended up going round in a circle and Nell playfully kicked him up the backside.

We were transferred to Calne in Wiltshire a camp called Compton Bassett, this was a real camp, wooden huts, cookhouse, dining room, assembly hall and over 1,000 W.A.A.F.s. One lad I met at Blackpool was an Irishman from Northern Ireland, he was short but very powerful man with lots of strength. Anyway he was put in the same hut as me along with a load of Southern Irishmen, me and a lad from Manchester were the only Englishmen in the hut. To say it was lively is an understatement, sometimes there was murder and basically it was only about religion. One night we were all in bed after ten, and suddenly there was a shout of "You Protestant B......". George (from N/Ireland) had thrown his wellington boots and they landed on Joe Chater an ex member of the IRA. The next day Chater tripped George up , George hit him and knocked him over 2 beds, his eye was like a large plum, Chaters mate, a Dubliner called Con Deesey offered George out. George didn't want to fight Con and said so, but he insisted so we all marched up to the gym and asked for a set of gloves. A Sergeant refereed the fight which lasted for about 2 minutes, George hit him 4 times and each time Con hit the deck and got up to take another, in the end the Sergeant stopped it. That was typical of the atmosphere in the hut. I was accepted because I came from Liverpool, an example was one night a few of us went into Calne and a feller called Deeley from Cork was slagging off Englishmen, one of the others said "Bob's" English he said "He's different he's from Liverpool".

The nearest town was Chippenham, a nice little town where we used to visit every weekend.

Being wartime, there was a shortage of beer, so we were all drinking cider which left you with a big head next day, one night we missed the last train and ended up sleeping in the railway station. Then we had to get into the camp, I remember I had a pair of brown shoes that I had blackened because you can't wear brown in the RAF. The black had come off and the brown was showing, as it was we walked past the guard room and no one challenged us so that ended up ok.

The work was hard, the speed of the morse was getting fast and you needed to concentrate , I had mastered the code and procedure but the wireless theory (E & M) was hard .

I got into a few bits of trouble while I was there, once when we were on a break from a morse lesson we queued up to go back into the room and I was stubbing my cigarette out before I went into the room. The Corporal reckoned I was smoking on duty, I was put on a charge and got 5 days jankers, working in the kitchens, peeling spuds, washing up etc. Another time was during a P.T. session, now I love exercise of any kind except running, I hated it. For P.T. we were going to run up to a horse which was in concrete on top of the hill overlooking the camp. It was a five mile run there and back and I didn't fancy it, so I got to the back of the queue and as everyone started off I slipped behind one of the huts. After they had gone I went back to my billet and hoped I could slip back into the group when they arrived back. My luck was out, a corporal came in and asked me what I was doing, I told him I wasn't feeling so good but he didn't bite. I was put on another charge and another 5 days jankers.

One of the rules laid down in the forces is that if you are doing jankers, you go to the front of the dinner queue. So during one of my stints on jankers I walked to the front of them all, a voice shouted "Hey where do you think you're going" when I told him, he told me to get to the back. I ignored him and carried on walking, he came after me and started pushing, and I said "I'll tell you what we'll put the gloves on during the next P.T. session. Now this man was a southerner with a big mouth about 5'-10" and roughly 2 stone heavier than me, so I'd taken something on. However the nearer it got to the day for P.T. the less he wanted to fight. The day before the fight he came over and told me he'd never had a fight before and had never wore boxing gloves, I said I had and was looking forward to it. When it came to the time, we gloved up and started to fight, it was a case of him running and me chasing, he didn't have a clue and after a few punches he didn't want to know.

I n the hut there was still a lot of friction between the Irishmen, it was hard to keep the peace, because I got on well with both sides. I remember Con Deesey asking a few lads to wake him up for Mass on Sunday morning. They left him in bed and he was later for Mass, the language he came out with was unbelievable considering what he was annoyed over. I remember sitting in the hut at Compton Bassett one day and we all sat bolt upright and wondered what the noise was, it was an almighty rumble that got louder and louder as it got nearer. We all ran outside to see what was going on and an amazing site met our eyes. The sky was black with planes, bombers, fighters and troop carriers, hundreds of them were going over. It was the "D DAY" invasion of France. We didn't know it then, but it became evident the next day, it's a sight none of us will ever forget.

I remember one of my leaves in the RAF, my dad opened the door and as I swung my rifle off my shoulder, the foresight caught him over his eye and cut it. When my mother got up she had a black eye after walking into a lamppost the night before, it was like a war zone.

We were doing 6 hours a day at morse, (by this time we were up to 20-22 words a minute) and some of them couldn't stand it and packed the course in. One of the Dublin boys was brilliant on E&M (Wireless theory) but the morse had him crying, he had to leave.

We had one week to go, when the C.O called us (270) into the dining room and we got the shock news that we were being transferred to Army. The screams were unmerciful some were going to go on Officers courses, some wanted to get into Aircrew.

ARMY NO. 14983656

I reported to Huyton Camp and met up with some lads who'd been with me at Compton Bassett, plus a few lads we had mated up with. We were mixed with ex. Navy, ex. Marines, some of them still had their Navy fronts on and an army jacket, it was quite funny. After we were kitted out with uniforms we were shepherded into a hall and told we had to pick a regiment. Naturally we thought with going through a full radio course, The Royal Signals was the regiment for us. We got our eye wiped when the Sergeant said "Infantry only", we were disappointed but we couldn't do anything about it. One of them we had mated up with was Bill Wood who came from Newcastle-upon-Tyne, we called him Geordie. I asked about the Kings (Liverpool) Regiment, they didn't want anybody, Geordie asked about the Northumberland Fusilier's, nothing doing. Georgie said "What about D.L.I. (Durham Light Infantry), the Sergeant jumped at it and we were all signed up to the D.L.I. We were sent on a short leave and told to report back afterwards.

When we got back we were shipped down to the Pier Head and on to the Irish Ferry for Northern Ireland. What was to come, we couldn't imagine, I couldn't imagine the difference to what we'd been used too. We went to a camp called Augentine camp about a mile from Fivemile town a small village in Co.Monoghan, we were roughly 19 miles from Inerskilling and about the same from Armagh. The camp was infested with rats and the nissen huts were rubbish.

It was September, and the routine was up at 6am (still dark), after walking past the rats going to the ablutions (toilets), it was on the square for drill, then back to the billet for a while then breakfast in the N.A.A.F.I. After breakfast it was a route march to start with it was about 10 miles, then an assault course to end all assault courses. At the end of 3 months we were doing over 40 miles route march, we were doing 160 paces to a minute after doing 120 paces to the minute in the RAF, everything we done seemed like it was uphill. I was about 19yrs and day by day was getting fitter, the officer in charge of our company wasn't or didn't seem to be much older than us. But he'd been in Lovetts Scouts, a special unit which did good work in France during the first years of the war. When we did the assault course, he was always in the lead with me and Geordie right behind him. It started with running into dirty freezing water up to the waist, ducking under a tunnel and then climbing a rope ladder, running along the bank and climbing a tree with a rope across to another tree, a rope was for your feet another one for your hands. When you got across you'd do the same but only one rope to pull yourself along, if you overbalanced you would fall in the water, plenty of them did. Next you climbed a 12ft wall working in threes, then through barbed wire tunnels and then on the double we had to jump the river with rifles over our heads and then onto the 25yd rifle range to fire 5 rounds and back to the billet, shattered.

The only time you heard about the IRA them days was explosions in phone boxes, not like to-day they are all you hear or read about these days. But while we were in camp the IRA broke into our armoury and stole some guns.

The Commanding Officer at this camp was a cousin of Lawrence Olivier the actor, he seemed old to us at the time but I suppose he was probably only in his forties. When we went on route marches he insisted on going with us an always stayed the distance. One time, just before we went to bed he ordered us all outside and had us doing night manoeuvres and a lecture about general military moves.

When we first arrived we took brand new rifles out of the crates, they had to geroed which means if you observe the rule of aiming and you don't get a bulls eye, the sights needed adjusting. My rifle No.18162 D.P. was spot on without an adjustment. When we got on the range my marks were good, so good the Sergeant could not believe it and asked me could he have a go. He got 4 Bulls and 1 inner which proved the rifle was ok. I ended up getting cross guns for being a marksman, the only one in the company, which I was very proud of, my dad was too. We went through the same routing with machine guns, like the Bren gun, I just missed out, my mate Harry Brown won that. We went through a series of endurance tests which were tough. All these tests were with FSMO (full service marching order) which meant large haversack small haversack, water bottle, tin helmet and rifle. A fast march for 5 miles in a specific time, a run and walk for 5 miles in a specific time, 12 pull ups with FSMO and rifle, to pull yourself up a rope hanging off a tree without using your legs. The fast march was comical, me and a little lad from Birmingham called Jimmy Hill stuck together all the way, and some of the big lad couldn't do it. One of my mates, Taffy Hixson was 6'-1" he had to do it 3 times because he couldn't keep to the times.

We had 2 N.C.Os, one was the Sergeant whose name escapes me, who was alright, strict, but fair, one of those you could talk too. The other was Corporal Humphries who was a different proposition, he used to come in at 6am dressed immaculately with gloves and an officer's stick under his arm. He had a habit of pulling the bedclothes off anyone who was slow getting out of bed, A Welshman called Jones, who was a nasty piece of work, grabbed him by the wrist and told him to lay off. It was against the army rules to touch anyone's bedclothes, he knew it, but so did Jones, he wasn't a popular man with the corporal after that. When we had bayonet practice everyone charged at the dummies, Jones walked. We had to jump across a stretch of water and Jones was first in line, but he refused to go unless the Corporal jumped first. There was an almighty row, but he still refused, even after being threatened by the Corporal. Eventually one of the lads suggested to the Corporal the he jumped first, so much against the grain, he jumped and landed about 12 inches from the bank and was wet through. We tried not to laugh too loud. Another time, he had apparently been a boxer abroad for the army, he suggested we pair off, which left Geordie the odd man out. So he said "You can pair off with me", he didn't know Geordie had been an amateur boxer at home and fought at St. James Hall (like our stadium), Geordie boxed his head off and left him with a bloody nose.

The rats were a menace, you could hear them between the double skins of the nissen huts, I had one on my bed one night and I didn't know how to move in case it ran up the bed. They were water rats so they were big, it got so bad that the C.O. stopped any passes and said he wanted them smoked out. On the Saturday we stuck smoke bombs down holes that were so big they looked like rabbit holes. We lined up either side of the other holes and waited, out they came in their dozens we were all armed with big sticks and quite a few were killed, but a lot got away. Then the C.O. offered 3d (old money) for every tail we brought to him.

One weekend we were in Innerskillen and decided to have a photo taken of the four of us in a group, it was an excellent picture. I had a copy of it for years, we were 19yrs old except Taffy, who was a couple of years older. Years later when Geordie started to visit us in Gorsey Lane, he asked me could he borrow it, I lent it to him and never got it back. I remember Corporal Humphries saying he could colour the photos up and we let him take them, except mine, I'm sure they never got them back.

Innerskillen was a small town we tried to go to each weekend, there was a little café there that used to do good fry ups, and we looked forward to that.

There wasn't much for entertainment in the camp, unless you went to the N.A.A.F.I to listen to music, play darts, play draughts there wasn't much more to do. Cigarettes, chocolates, sweets etc. we got on a ration card but I don't recall drinking beer, we may have done but I don't remember.

We were very fit by this time, I know I was, early to bed early to rise, assault courses, route marches etc. if it was done properly you've got to be fit. After we had done training for 3 months we were sent home on leave. We had trained with the Durhams a famously hard regiment so before we left camp we were transferred to different regiments. Me, Geordie, Taffy and Harry Brown were put into another tough mob The Green Howards. On our way home on the ferry (Larne to Stransaer) one of the lads was showing an engagement ring off for his girlfriend, later on he mislaid it and we all helped him to look for it. Then Jones the Welshman pulled me over and told me he'd found it, I said "Good you'd better give it to him" he said he wasn't going to. I said "If you don't give him that rig, I'll tell him you've got it". He still hadn't told him when we got off the ferry, we then boarded a train for Carlisle where we would go our separate ways. We got there and I found Jones and told him to give the lad his ring back he still said No, I went and found the lad and told him about the ring he was made up. When we got outside, Jones had left on his way to Wales, we informed the Military Police and they intercepted him at a station further down the line. I never knew if the lad got his ring back, because I never saw him again, If I hadn't have given Jones so much time to do the right thing I may have found out whether he got it or not. The leave was a long one 19 days to be precise and I enjoyed it.

In the meantime my mother's brother had conned my parents into giving their house up and going to live in his house in Colmore Road, Broadway, Norris Green, so they were living there when I got home. He had promised to sign the house over to my parents if they agreed to move in, but he never did. My mother had passed their house over to her sister, Aunty Nellie, so it was a case of putting up with it.

I spent some of that leave with Bobby Hoyland and we drank a lot, I think it was on this leave that I met Jean Kelly, the daughter of some friends of my parents who they drank with in the Broadway Hotel. We got on alright but didn't see too much of each other for long, due to being in the forces.

After the leave we had to report to Bridlington on the Yorkshire Coast, when we paraded, the C.S.M asked for all marksmen to fall out on the left, something told me to stay put, so I didn't move. If I had moved I may not be here to tell this story. They were looking for snipers, it's a short life span for snipers.

We were going abroad but didn't know where, we landed up at Greenock Docks Glasgow by train from Bridlington. "The Tegalberg" was the ship we were going out on, the conditions were terrible it had been a Norwegian cattle ship that had been converted to a troop ship, from what I could see there hadn't been much converting done. We were put way down in the bowels of the ship to sleep in hammocks, on tables, on the floor, anywhere. My mates and myself were lucky, we got a hammock each, and they needed to get used to as well. Being during war years, we were in Convoy with a couple of battle ships, a couple of destroyers and an aircraft carrier right in the centre. Being my first time out of the UK, I was amazed how you could not see any land at all, whichever way you looked. Then we got to the Med and saw Gibraltar for the first time, a wonderful sight with white cottages dotted all around the coast. We seen parts of North Africa and eventually stopped at Port Said in Egypt, they wouldn't let us go ashore but what they called bum boats came alongside and threw a rope up to with a basket on the end. If we wanted anything we would put money in the basket and shout down for fruit, dates and other things like handbags, wallets etc, one box of dates was walking with maggots, we threw them back at them. Now and then the Arabs tried climbing the ships ropes to get on board to knock something off, if we caught them half way up we'd pelt them with rotten potatoes, tomatoes and anything else we could lay our hands on.

From Port Said we went into the Suez Canal which is 100 miles long, the kids used to stand on the banks and wave and shout to us, some used to stand weeing and were made up when we laughed at them. Then into the Red Sea which borders Saudi Arabia, then into the Gulf of Aden then into the Indian Ocean, which was it, for probably more than 10 days without seeing land.

Where we were, down below in the bowels of the ship, we were crammed like sardines with one flight of steps for access. It didn't' t help, therefore, when it came over the blower that there was a Japanese submarine in the area, I often wonder how we would have made it out if we had have been hit.

We arrived in Bombay at the beginning of January 1945, it had taken a month to get here, and it was like being in another world. Bombay was teeming with people and rickshaws, tongas everywhere you looked, everyone wanted to sell you something. One young lad had a tray full of rings and other trinkets, he offered me a ring for a cigarette, I gave him the cigarette and you couldn't see him for dust. How he managed to run with a tray around his neck, beat me there were so many people around he knew how to weave in and out. Later on a man approached me and Taffy Hixson, he wanted to take wax out of our ears, before I knew what was happening he had put this thing down my ear and got wax out. Because he'd done that, he wanted paying for it, he followed us everywhere we went and we ended up in a park where he ended up in some bushes after Taffy had chucked him there. We walked down to pier on the waterfront, there was a man inscribing rings, bracelets and other jewellery. Taffy had a pocket watch that belonged to his dad which had been down the mines in Wales and Taffy had it when he flew once in the R.A.F. This man used a small punch and hammer to inscribe R.J.L. on my ring and D.G. Hixson on Taffys watch for free. This happened close to the "Gateway to India" monument, all this in a day in Bombay.

We were moved by train to a transit camp called Kalyan not too far from Bombay, It was under canvas and Geordie, Taffy, Harry Brown and me managed to get together. We had to go for our meals in a big marquee, but we had a short walk from the canteen to the marquee. During one meal time I was walking across when a sky hawk swished over my shoulder and pinched my meat. That happened to somebody every day while we were there. The heat was stifling and everyone was sweating a lot. We were herded together and issued with jungle greens, bush hats, 50 rounds of ammunition, all set for Burma. Then someone said, "Some Officer was looking for volunteers for the Royal Signals". I found out who he was and asked him could we volunteer, when he asked me what intake number I was, he said our intake wasn't on his list. I explained to him that we had done a full radio course in the RAF and it seemed a pity to waste experience, after some thought, he gave me 4 forms to fill in, I went back to our tent and told the others. A little problem was, although Taffy and Harry had been in the Air Force, they hadn't done any signalling, so when we filled in the forms, we told them the type of radios we'd worked with and how many words a minute we could do. With us getting the forms late we were top of the list and we had not problems in the interviews. So when we later lined up in jungle greens etc, the N.C.O shouted "When I call your name fall in on the left" He called our names and we were told we were going to a place called MHOW a royal signals training camp.

It was a good distance away from Kalyan, probably about 2 days run on a train, they went so slow you could run with them for a while. MHOW was a nice camp, clean and tidy and very orderly, Geordie and me were put on a shortened course because of our speed on Morse, and Taffy went with the beginners. Harry Brown never made it to MHOW he took bad on the day we were leaving Kalyan and we never saw him again.

The course started and once again we were doing about 6 hours a day at the code, we used to pair off, sending and receiving to each other. The procedure for sending messages was different from the RAF but we soon got into it, once again, wireless theory was a bug bear to me but I kept trying. The course was for about 3 months overall, but ours was shortened to something like 8 weeks, we done the morse and procedure tests ok. The wireless theory was my worry and it was an oral test, the night before I went through my books and picked 2 or 3 pages out and studied them until I had them in my head, I'd taken a chance so I was just hoping. The following morning I had to face this Sergeant across a table, the first thing he asked me was could I quote OHMS law. I started to say "If the current ---- he stopped me 3 times and then said there's no IF about it, I then said "The current in a circuit is directly proportionate to the voltage and indirectly proportionate to the resistance or something like that any way. Then he proceeded to ask me all the questions about what I had studied the night before, it was a great feeling to be able to say "I've Passed" My ambition in the RAF was to get my sparks on my arm, but I couldn't fulfil it, this was the next best thing. After it was over we didn't know where we were going so we were given certain jobs to do. I went into the office, Sgt. Noblett was in charge and gave me loads to do. He asked me could I play football, I said in a fashion and I loved the game. They had a team they were quite good including 2 or 3 professionals, one was Bobby Campbell who I shared a room with once, he was an excellent winger who was on Chelsea's books. He was looking forward to getting home to start pro football again.

In the meantime Geordie, Taffy and me volunteered for the paratroops and were waiting to get away from MHOW. Then Sgt. Noblett hit me with something I didn't expect, he asked me to stay permanently in the office and within a month I would be Corporal (2 stripes) within 3 months I'd be a Sergeant. He pointed out the perks that went with Sergeants stripes, he told me, and you'd have your own room, your own bearer, and all the things that went on in the Sergeants mess. He also said, stripes attract women and of course a substantial rise in pay. I had really bonded with my mates you know, we'd been through Northern Ireland and were still together. I told them about it and they said it was up to me, I agonised over this problem, but then decided to stick with me mates. I told the Sergeant my decision, he laughed and said "Your wrong, but if that's what you want, go ahead and good luck"

They say there's always a first time for everything, the toilets in India left a lot to be desired and you left it for as long as you could, and consequently constipation was a problem with us all. I hadn't been for over a week and someone said "Go and get a No.9" it was a pill that made you go. However, when I went in the M.O. had a large blotting pad in front of him, he tore the corner off it after writing something. He said give this to the orderly, I read it, it said "Enema", I said there's always a first time when I got to the orderly, he said "Drop your shorts" I said "What for" he said "This is going up your behind". I found out later an enema was a soap injection, however, I told him to stick it somewhere else because he wasn't going to do it to me. I hadn't reckoned on the M.O. coming in and before I knew it I could feel the soap curdling round my stomach and it did do me good. The huts we lived in were quite long with a couple of steps down from one end to another. This chap who was covered with tattoos walked up behind me got a strangle hold on my neck and said "I'm strong aren't I" I said "You are, let go of my neck your choking me. He kept hold, so I knew I had to do something about it, I managed to break his hold on my neck and we started to fight, over beds between beds, under beds from one end to another. It was mostly wrestling more than boxing, there were a couple of punches thrown but no damage, we were split up by a couple of the lads. Later on, he came up the hut to me and asked me my first name, he had found a spot on his shoulder that he was going to put my name. I think he was a couple of sandwiches short of a picnic, he was no bother afterwards.

Every afternoon was a bit like Siesta time, it was too hot to work so all the wallas came around Char (tea) wallas, fruit wallas and others. The fruit walls used to throw fruit onto your bed whether you wanted it or not, you paid them at the weekend. There were no windows (glass ) in any of the huts. They had wonderful memories too, the story goes that one lad had built up a bill which was quite big and he was posted to somewhere else. He was back 2 yrs. later and the fruit walla knew him and how much he owed.

When we first got to MHOW a new intake of cadet officers had arrived and brought with them an epidemic of Infantile Paralysis (Polio), quite a few died through it and panic began to set in, however it subsided as quickly as it started.

MHOW town wasn't big, it was made up of small dark places you could have tea in and a bazaar, me and Geordie went into town one night, a tattooist wanted us to look at some patterns. We did, we both picked the same tattoo he wanted his on his right arm and I had it on my left, it was a dagger through a flower, we were both 19yrs old.

After the course, they put us to work with some other officer cadets, teaching them morse and trying to get their speed up, they enjoyed it, so did we. One of them was a Scotsman who'd been awarded the M.M. (Military Medal) for bravery in Burma. That meant if he passed out on his course he would be a full lieutenant, whereas the others would be second lieutenants. Now the Scotsman was the same surname as me and we seemed to get on ok. Anyway, the passing out parade was a good show, we felt we'd helped them to get through, later the Scotsman was walking towards me and I congratulated him on passing out. Then he knocked me for six when he said "When you speak to an officer, stand to attention and salute and call me Sir". I thought at first he was kidding me, but he meant every word, I'm not writing the words I called him to the lads, they were as shocked as I was.

My mates and I were getting frustrated because there was nothing happening as far as we were concerned. So we found the adjutants office and we gate-crashed in, big mistake, you make an appointment to see him. However, he asked us what we wanted, we told him we had volunteered for the paras. He then informed us there was no chance of that because the 2nd Battalion Paras had moved to the Middle East. He said "I'll give you a posting, look on company orders tomorrow", the next morning we looked on the board and we had been posted to Chittagong in East Bengal (Bangladesh).

We must have been on trains for about a week, we called into Calcutta one of the main cities in India before going through to Chittagong. Georgie was posted to Comilla further up the line, we missed him, and Taffy and I looked at the huts we were to live in and wished we were back in MHOW. Anyway it was a case of get used to it and we did, at last we had a Signal Office and we could get down to it. A lad called Blondie Hawley was already there when we arrived he was an excellent operator.

It didn't' take me long to fall into it, we operated as far as Hong Kong, Calcutta, Rangoon & Dacca, you're talking over a thousand miles from Chittagong. Blondie used to spend the whole shift just sending and I would receive, the following day we would swap. We worked 3 shifts in the signal office and after a night shift you get the next day and a half off. George Goddard was a cockney who loved table tennis and so did I, so having the time off we used to play some great games together, we played for hours in our trunks.

We inherited 2 dogs, Tiger and Mitzy they went with the camp, someone had left them, to my knowledge Mitzy had 3 sets of puppies, and they were all lovely. Tiger had the Burma Star ribbon on his collar, we never found out but we thought who ever had him before us may have had him in Burma. Tiger was a fighting dog, if any other dog went near Mitzy he'd go for them.

I  was on duty in the signal office one day and got a signal from Comilla, I sent the appropriate signal to receive it, as soon as I heard the signal I stopped him and asked if it was Geordie he sent back "Yes" we had a chinwag in morse just passing the time of day. When I got back to camp I was pulled in by a Sergeant who played it all back to me, he had been monitoring everyone that day, and it was a flash in the pan there was no trouble after. But it proved that everyone has their own style of sending and Geordie and I worked together for a long time while we were on the course.

Around this time I wasn't far off 20yrs and had some fat around the middle. There was a lad from Southern England who had quite a good physique through his exercise, he used dynamic tension which was Charles Atlas's theory, muscle against muscle plus swimming. He had knowledge of weight training and he said he'd show me some exercises. We found a scrap yard and got hold of a bar roughly about 2" thick, we estimated it to be 80lbs in weight. I worked out with this bar, I did some bent arm pullovers, straight arm pullover, press ups and curls.

Panitola and Hatisari were two places out in the wilds that we used to be sent too, occasionally. Once in Panitola I got a lift from one lad who drove a truck and he was going to the bazaar, I was there with a radio engineer a miserable southerner who didn't talk much. The hut we were in, was on an abandoned air strip and when I got off the truck , instead of turning right, I turned left and walked and walked, I seemed to be walking for ever, I heard rustling and stopped still it's a good job I did. A pack of Jackals and Hyenas went right across me, I stood for a while and then went on my way, later I could see 2 figures and one way or another they pointed out where the hut was. I was never so glad to see someone I knew, even old misery guts, but I got quite a fright with the animals. Another time in Panitola, I was on duty on the radio when the heavens opened and the Monsoon started, the signal office there was a weak structure that collapsed with the torrential rain. The transmitters I was using were large American 99's and very expensive so I had to call the radio engineer out. He didn't' like it, but that was what he was there for, everything was soaking so he had a job on. That signal office wasn't anything like as busy as Chittagong, so I used to try and write songs without much success.

The signal office in Hatisari was just about as busy as Panitola so we had quite a lot of time to fill in. There was a R.E.M.E. unit on camp with us and I mated up with a few of the lads, these lads were mostly engineers, electricians or mechanics. I happened to mention I was interested in weight lifting so they made me a barbell made up of a steel bar and 2 hubs off a jeep. It was handy for my work-outs, but they got into it and I landed up with a small class, we all enjoyed it. The toilets on this camp were in the middle of a field and it was disgusting, the smells were terrible, they were chemical toilets and the seats were a long board with about 8 holes. One morning I woke up and was covered with black spots, I didn't know what it was and neither did anybody else. They were everywhere, were there were hairs except my head, it was when I put my mail under one of them and it started to walk, I was worried now. I had come to the conclusion it was "Crabs" which I'm sure I'd got off the toilet seats, I tried everything until one of the lads said "Let's try this" and he sprayed me with something that smelled like paraffin, the name of which I've forgotten. The next morning they were all dead in my bed, the reason I didn't go the M.O. I was afraid he might shave my head, I may have been vain but at 20 it mattered.

We went out to one of the huts that we got together in and just had a laugh, we used to get a beer ration, along with a cigarette rations, but when that had gone we just made our own entertainment. Anyway, this particular night there was no beer and when the night finished, we made our way back but we didn't expect what met us when we got back. It was a cloud of flying ants, the hut was completely covered in them, and it is very hard to explain just what it was like. We ended up killing as many as possible with rolled up papers, books and anything else we could use. When we brushed them together they were heaped up in piles, It took us at least 2 hours to clear the place. Another episode about Hatisari, involves the toilets again, an oxen had been found dead and was badly mutilated, it was Tiger country, so everybody stayed away from the toilets, especially at night. There was quite a crowd at this particular camp, one chap who was with the R.E.M.E. was in a state of depression because his girlfriend had dropped him for somebody else. He was in a terrible mood for a long time, we all tried to talk him out of his depression to no avail, I suppose when your 6,000 miles from home, you must feel helpless. I was never in that position myself but this wasn't' the only one I'd met in this position, this particular lad used to cry a lot. The worst part of this was after we'd had our beer ration, he was well oiled at the end of the night and we made our way back to the hut. He took his rifle, loaded it and went outside and if we hadn't have intervened, he would have shot himself. That's how bad he was and if we would have reported it, he would have been on a sever charge. The trips to these locations didn't last long, so me and Mr Misery made our way back to Chittagong.

I was glad to get back to the routine, and the dogs were excited to see me. They had moved us too another hut which was on the edge of a jungle, It was essential you used a Mosquito net and well tucked in to your mattress. So we were in a new home and Mitzy needed a kennel, so we got to work and knocked one up.

The war was over by this time and yet, I was asked to send an important message to Raugoon, If a message has "P" on it, that means its important, but if it's got "O" that means "Immediate" very important. This one was an "OP", all the time I was sending it there was a lot of interference, It took a lot of concentration to send it, and I eventually got a "Roger".

Some of the Indian army operators were excellent at their job and were lovely writers and very fast, I often worked with one who worked from Camilla and there were never any problems. Some operators used to stop you if they couldn't keep up, but not this boy, he was good.

Taffy was due a leave and so was I, there was a scheme going called L.I.A.P (leave in addition to python) it meant that if your de-mob number (mine was 57) was on the list, you were entitled to a leave to the U.K. Our two numbers weren't eligible, so we put in for a leave to Darjeeling in Nepal, we prepared to go, along with 2 or 3 others. The journey itself was amazing, a train to Calcutta then another to the banks of the Brahmaputra River, we were on that river for 15 hours. Then we travelled to the base of the mountains, from there we boarded a miniature train up the mountain , it was a lovely little train you could hardly stand up, it was so small. The scenery was breath-taking and almost indescribable, every time we made a top, these young girls came on board with trays of cigarettes, drinks and sweets. Eventually we arrived at Darjeeling where the Ghurkhas come from, the climate was like being at home, and we were so high up. We stayed in a big house run by English people, It was a beautiful place to be and after being so long down in the plains the air was clean and clear. in the mornings there was a mist over everything, it was like walking on clouds.

We went horse riding one day, each horse had a guide but my guide let go and I must have touched the horse with my heels, before I knew it, the horse had galloped away and I was hanging on for dear life. Taffy had lived in the country at home and knew about horses, he came after me and stopped the horse.

To see the peak of Mount Everest you had to get up about 6.30am, the Mountain Ranges were breath-taking and indescribable.

We went to a drinking club a couple of times while we were there, We met a lad who trained with us a MHOW he was operating from Darjeeling Signal Office. We'd been there almost a week and we bumped into him again, quite casually he said "Which one is Lawson" I said me, he said "You're going home tomorrow" he'd took the message himself. Good enough, when we got to the house, the owner told me I'd got to start in the morning for the journey back, which was a bit of an ordeal especially when you're on your own. The journey took over two days and I'm not sure of the mileage. When the locals know you're on your own they get brave and try to intimidate you, best thing to do is ignore them, it wasn't easy. Eventually, I got back and they gave me the necessary paperwork to travel, it was a long journey from Chittagong to a transit camp near Bombay, it must have been about a week long. There were 2 other lads with me for this journey, the mileage was 1,500 miles.

Getting back to Chittagong and the rough conditions we had to put up with, the toilets (holes in the ground) were around the back of the huts and a path led you to them. By them there was a monkey on a long chain, if it spotted you, it was on you in a shot, so you had to make sure it was pre-occupied or looking the other way before you made your move, it was the same coming back. A wild do came on camp once probably full of rabies which is dangerous if they bite, it can kill you. It walked too close to the monkey, the monkey jumped on its back, it looked like a jockey on horseback, and it was hanging on to the dog's ears and screeching on top note. Eventually it let the dog go into the jungle and an officer followed it with a rifle and shot it. There was another dog on camp called "Busy" a strong mixed breed that liked a fight, so it was inevitable that when Tiger and Busty got together there was a fight, tiger had the edge but sometimes come out bleeding.

When I was a youngster my Grandad (Bob) used to sit me on his knee and tell me stories about the first world war. He was in the R.H.A.(Royal Horse Artillery), I think this was why he loved horses so much. He used to mention the jackals in Salonica how they used to come around when you were on guard duty. I said once "Were they big" he said "Yes lad, they're as bit as donkeys", for years I thought jackals were like donkeys. I'd never seen one until I got to India they are just like medium sized dogs, I suppose Bob was only making it interesting for me.

Vultures were something else, if anything died human or animal they used to sit in the trees waiting, when it was definitely dead the King Vulture would swoop down and start picking at it, then the others would come and before long there would only be bones. More often than not there would be a fight between the vultures and other hungry animals. I remember going on a march once through hilly country and seeing vultures and 3 women fighting for the meat off an Ox which had died.

Around this time Mitzy had her third litter of pups and she let me watch them being born, she licked them clean and they were beauties, unfortunately it must have affected her. Someone in the cook house had said she had bitten on of the kids who helped out in the kitchens. When we were told, Taffy called her over she hid under the beds and wouldn't come out, he made a grab for her and she went for him, so that confirmed it. If she had been well, there's no way she would have gone for Taffy, we had the unpleasant job of drowning the pups, then Mitzy (pups were full of sores). We put the pups in a static pool, on camp weighted down . Mitzy was an obedient dog, she did as she was told, I got her to stand on a stool and put my hand in a sack, she wanted to know what was there and I pushed her in with a couple of bricks, we drowned her in the same pool. It wasn't easy, I was very attached to her and tiger.

Another story was the Indian Officer who decided my Radio was too close to me and needed pushing back I said "Its ok sir" he reached over to push it back and he hit the wall behind him. He'd touched a 3 pronged plug with a warning on it "Do Not Touch", he was so shocked he reached over to push it again and did the same thing, he left in a state of shock.

Back to Delahli the transit camp, we weren't there long before we were on our way to Bombay Docks. I considered myself lucky to be there, because I thought my de-mob number wasn't included for this leave. The troopship "Georgie" was waiting for us at Bombay and we set off home, we weren't in convoy this time and it took us about 3 weeks to arrive at Liverpool. The liner was a beauty and very big, we mated up with a few good lads, two of them were from Stoke and were in the Military Police and we got on quite well with them. The journey was interesting and more relaxed this time seeing the war was over. One of the M.P.s promised us (me and a lad from down south) a good job as "Special Police" on the journey back. The "Georgie" had been damaged by fire during the war but was renovated to a troop ship.

We got to the Pier Head, Liverpool and I was glad to see my family again, Bobby Hoyland was on leave as well so we had quite a good time together. I recollect we went down to "Tyson's" to see a few people but most of our mates had gone away, Bob Skelton (Army) Georgie Bell (Army) Joe Doran (Merchant Navy), the only ones were older tradesmen or deferred apprentices.

The "Britannic" was the liner that took us back, a beautiful ship, it was like being in a big hotel, the fittings were lovely. The two M.P.s were true to their word and gave us arm bands as "Special Police". We had our own cabins, proper bunks and the best food. During the day you just watched the troops, making sure they behaved themselves and didn't flick cigarette ends over the side. If any port holes were open a cigarette end could cause a fire. At night time it was different, we had to make sure everybody was down below at 23.00 hrs, when I say everybody, I mean it, officers, women officers, anyone. One night I went on the upper deck and a General was playing chess, I had to say "Excuse me sir, you should be down below, its 11 o'clock. He was great about it and apologised and went to his cabin. Another time a woman officer who was with a different officer every night was on the poop deck , I think she was with an RAF officer ,we moved her on because it was 11 o'clock. We did this every night and one night I heard her say " I hate that man". It was quite a good trip, no rough seas and everything went smoothly. We landed back at Bombay at last and prepared ourselves for going ashore, my paper told me I was going back to Chittagong.

Another long journey for me again, I'm sure I was on my own again, I can't' remember if there was somebody else with me. On a journey like this, I learnt to be very wary, ever since we first made the trip to MHOW. We stopped at a remote station and were approached by an Indian, he pulled a bottle of Rum from his doti, we put our money together and paid him 5 or 6 Rupees. I wanted to open the bottle before he left but Geordie said it was ok, when we did open it, it was cold tea, well I hope it was tea. It was actually sealed as well, we scoured the station for him but he'd flown, so we learnt something that day and hoped it would never happen again.

When I eventually reached Chittagong the camp looked different, like there was nobody there, when I found somebody to talk to I asked about Tiger, they said "He's dead", I nearly fell over. The story was, he got in a fight with Busy and ended up killing him, but he was so badly cup up he wasn't well and didn't have a vet. Some idiot decided he needed a soap injection, whatever happened he died, and the lads buried him. When I got to the office, they had posted me to Shillong in Assam, they gave me the paperwork and I was on my travels again.

Shillong was up in the hills of Assam, I got a train to the foothills and there a wagon or truck picked me up to take me where I was going. But just as I arrived off the train, I took ill, vomiting and generally feeling lousy. Eventually I got to the camp, found where I was staying and picked a bed and just crashed out, when I woke up, a young officer was sitting by my bed and asked me how I was. I said "Not very good" he said there was no panic and to take my time getting over it, he was Lt. Patterson and was my O.C. (officer commanding) he came from Wallasey. He was only about 22yrs so he could talk on the same level to me, I was 21yrs. I was about a fortnight unable to work, I don't remember a doctor on this camp and I never knew what it was I had. I started work in the signal office which was well organised, it wasn't a very busy office but we still did shifts and got through the work.

I remember at Chittagong, I was on guard, not a sole anywhere, I looked at my watch and remember thinking I'm 21, I'm a man.

One day I was in the dining room and one of the lads said there was a scouser just arrived in our hut, I went over to the hut and this lad came up and asked where I came from. I told him we lived in Norris Green and he lived in West Derby which was close. He had come with a group of lads, their job was graves unit and they had come up to shilling to use it as a base. Imphal and Kohima were scenes of heavy fighting they were just over the border of Burma in India. Their job was to dig up some of the lads who'd been killed and given a shallow grave. They had to lay the bodies out on a sheet and try and get every part of the body, even down to the fingernails. Then take them and give them a decent burial at Imphal cemetery, not a very pleasant job, so they got extra rations of milk and rum. The scouser was Harry Cummins and I think he was probably the softest of the lot, the night I met him we sat up until 2.30am just talking. It turned out that the last night of my embarkation leave I met a girl in Breck Road, it turned out to be Harry's girlfriend. They were a hard lot, especially Ginger Waugh from Newcastle, I used to say, it wouldn't take anything for Ginger to kill someone. The back of our hut was a deep drop looking out of the back door, well Ginger throttled a small pup and then threw it out of the back door. Another time they were on location at Dacca and they caught a loose walla (thief) Ginger tied his hands and threw the rope over the beams in the hut and pulled his arms up backwards until he was on his toes. Imagine the pain he was in, that wasn't the finish, when they got up Harry want to cut him down, Ginger said "Let's go and get some breakfast first". After breakfast they cut him down and then handed him over to the police, they beat loose wallas up. Ginger drove a 3 ton truck (covered) and one night I wanted to go to the bazaar and asked for a lift, the smell in the truck was awful, I asked him what it was he said "I've got a few of the boys in the back", I was glad to get away from it. Another character in this gang was a bloke called Chapman, he was the nearest thing to an alcoholic, and he was always drunk. He and Ginger went out one night in the truck and they hadn't been back by morning, a search party was sent out and they were found 80ft down off the main road, shaken but unhurt. The roads were dangerous with them being in the hills, they were lucky they hadn't gone over on the other side of the road. When they first arrived they had a dog which had just had pups, but the dog had rabies and so it had to be put down. The pups were drowned except the one Ginger threw out the back door after throttling it.

Harry and I spent as much time as we could, talking about home and had some laughs, Harry was a fast talker and with his accent a lot of them couldn't understand him, I acted as interpreter for him he was highly amused by this. Lt. Patterson used to come around to see me and I had previously introduced them, he took to Harry ok, we had a few drinks with him now and again. One Christmas Eve Harry said, he was going to Mass at the local church, I went with him and was completely amazed by the spectacle that hit me when I got in the Church. There was a balcony all round it and it was crammed full of people, all the seats were full and they were sitting in the aisles. At the time, I was C of E and was very impressed by it all.

The Army introduced a health system called P.U.L.H.E.E.MS., P = Physical, U = Urine, L = Lungs, H = Heart, E = Ears ,E = Eyes, M = ? S = ?, not sure on them. We all had to go through a stiff medical exam, some of them complained about flat feet, bad eyes and ears, bad backs, I couldn't see the point of it. The M.O. told me I was the fittest man he'd seen that day. He declared me A1 + (plus) which meant I would have been accepted by special units like, Commandos, Paratroops or any other special forces. I was quite proud of this, because I always kept myself fit.

While I was in shillong I bought myself a set of chest expanders and I've still got them after 57 yrs., they are still as good as ever. Another thing I bought when I was in Darjeeling, was a photo album which I've still got after 58yrs. While I was in Darjeeling, before I went home we came across an old man who was a fortune teller. He told me I'd be home by September of that year and would marry someone called Teresa, have 5 children – 3 boys, 2 girls. There was no chance of me being in U.K. by September of that year and the only Teresa I knew, was engaged to somebody else. However I was in the U.K. in September, so the first part of the prediction was correct, let's see if the rest comes true.

After me refusing Sgt. Noblett in MHOW to accept his offer of promotion, Geordie, Taffy, Harrry Brown, Joe Carson had all gone. The only one of the old gang left was Blondie Hawley, he was an excellent operator and worked well together. I'm sure he didn't go with me to Fort William, because I don't' remember him being there.

Early in 1947 I was transferred to Calcutta, Fort William Barracks. I was put to work in the Signal Office, now this was very busy office because it was the H.Q. (headquarters) so everything went through there, it was strange operating to Chittagong and other places I had worked from. Fort William was a large prison like building and the living quarters were very spacious with loads of room between the beds. Each regiment had a football team, the best being the "East Lancashire Rig", there were a couple of pitches and there was always something going on.

Going around the city was an education, the poverty was prevalent, loads of beggars, cripples and down and outs. Myself and a lad from Brighton who had an excellent physique through swimming and the weights, found out about a gym in Calcutta and looked it up, it was a well-run place. The owner was the brother of a former Mr Universe competitor. We used to go there, a couple of times a week and could see the difference in our overall fitness, after a shower we would feel on top of the world. One night we were walking home from the gym and were close to a heap of rubbish, I don't know what happened but suddenly about 50 rats were running all over the place.

Your got used to beggars asking for buckshee's, but one night me and Harry Cummins who had taken a leave to come to Calcutta to see me, were walking down Chowringee St. (Main St.) when we were approached by a beggar. Harry lost his patience and pushed him, he fell over, somebody shouted "He's blind" Harry couldn't pick him up quick enough to say he was sorry. He told me his dad was blind and he would never have pushed the boy if he had known.

There was a Ghurkha regiment in the Fort and they were getting moved to another location, they had a set of weights, they couldn't take with them. They were looking for someone to take them off their hands, somebody told them about me and we ended up carrying them between us to our barracks. As soon as the lads seen us going through our routine (me & Mitchell) they started to show interest and before long we had a pretty good class.

I was watching a football match at the fort, when I noticed a winger who looked good, but his style made me think I'd seen him before. When he came off, I went over to get a better look and believe it or not it was a lad I'd played with at school called Billy Culkin. We had a drink afterwards and talked over old times at school. He was with the East Lancashire Regiment and he came out to India a few months after me.

Chowringee St. was a main road in Calcutta and everything was going on there, I've mentioned the beggars and cripples, but the trams and buses were something to behold, they even sat on to of buses, hung on to the windows and the of the bus. Rickshaws and Tonga's were millings around everywhere, the market stalls were mad busy, there was also a cinema right at the end of the street.

The natives were getting restless by this time and there was a lot of resentment towards the British Army. There were riots and parades through Calcutta with big banners saying "Ja Hind" it basically meant "Get out of India"

The "Black Watch" a Scottish regiment famous for being good soldiers in times of war, were brought in to quill the riots. Their orders were to fire up over heads but when one of them was stabbed to death a few, quite a few were herded up side streets and killed. What they wanted us out for I don't know, wherever there were troops, money would be used to buy whatever, so we were keeping them going. Not to mention that a lot of our lads had died at Kohima and Imphal in Northern India and stopped the Japanese from going further into India.

Not that we wanted to stay, we all wanted to get home as soon as possible, there were a few exceptions, one lad was staying he wanted to be a monk, another wanted to be a tea planter and make a fortune. A couple wanted to stay with girlfriends they had hooked up with, one or two took the girls home on the troopships but I don't know how long it would last for them. It was a 6,000 mile journey and if they split, the girls were stranded.

Prickly heat was a complaint nearly everyone suffered with, some worse than others, some of them had broken out in sores with scratching. Mine was just itchy, I didn't scratch but wet my hand and rubbed it, you could get a cream off the M.O. The best bit was when the rains came (monsoon) and we'd just run outside naked, what a lovely relief.

S ometime about now, it is vague and I can't remember what it was about, there was a coloured Sergeant involved and I was afraid he may have thrown a spanner in the works regarding my de-mob which was due any day now.

I went to a jewellery shop in town and I bought 2 watches, one for me and the other for my sister Ethel, mine was a 17 jewel movement "Roamer" and excellent make of watch and the other was Swiss made, but can't remember the name. I don't remember what else I bought, but my kit bag and a big case was loaded and I could hardly lift it.

I remember in Shillong, getting a letter from a girl back home with a photo, she worked with my mother in a café in Walton Road, my mother had asked her to write to me. I distinctly recall chatting with Blondie Hawley and he asked me what I was going to do when I got home I said I'd like to work in some kind of communications, like the Post Office, as an operator. Then I said "I might even marry her, pointing to the photo of Marie Duggan. I didn't realise then just how near the truth that was.

The paperwork was through and we were on our way home, thank God. The journey was eventful, once again it was well over 1,000 miles to Delahli transit camp and I suppose it must have been a week before we got there. I'm sure we had a couple of jabs before we went on our way, with the red tape over, we were on a train to Bombay.

When we arrived at Bombay, we had to wait before we boarded the "Empire Pride". We had cups of tea and whatever else we could get while we waited. We had left some things on the train until we were ready to move. I happened to go back to the train for something and I caught a loose walla (thief) pinching cigarettes, he looked at me for a while, he knew he'd been caught. I went to the door of the train and called the Sergeant over and told him, he approached the mad who had pulled a knife and looked scared and menacing. The Sergeant was going home as well so he tread carefully, the walla eventually legged it minus his cigarettes and no harm was done.

We got queued up to get on board, I could hardly move my case, it was heavy and awkward. When I got to the gangway, it was quite a high step onto it, I struggled with the case onto the gangway and a big M.P. came down to help and ended up calling his mate down to help him (they were on guard). We got ourselves organised, found our living quarter and settled down, some were in hammocks, but most were in bunks. None of the people I went to India with or those I've mentioned before came home with me.

I mated up with a lad from Nottingham who I hadn't known before and we more or less stuck together. About one and a half days into the Indian Ocean a storm came up and what a storm. The "Empire Pride" was a small ship compared to the "Britannic" and "Georgie" and it bounced around like a cork. Everywhere you looked someone was vomiting or just lying on the deck or anywhere else they could find. Some were worse than others , some were bringing up blood and needed medical treatment. They had to make some extra space to take amount of sick soldiers, the medical room just couldn't take them. Up to now, I felt alright, but some who it hadn't effected thought it was funny, I didn't I felt sorry for them. One lad was in a terrible state and I remember him hanging over the side and this old merchant seaman, with a big handle bar moustache turned his head towards the wind and said "Take deep breaths", I don't think it done any good.

We had been in this for almost a week, it had been bad, anyway the last day of the storm, I was down below on my bunk and my stomach felt lousy. As time went on I felt terrible and I realised it had got to me, I run up on deck and threw myself on the deck and was sick. Three or four of the lads were in a corner out of the wind playing cards and I wasn't far away when I was sick. That was it, I was never sick afterwards, we got into the Red Sea and that was quite peaceful after the Indian Ocean. I think we were in the Med when we saw a troopship passing by and they were signalling with the Aldis Lamp. I grabbed a piece of paper and told one of the lads to write down what I told him "The English Cricket team would like to wish everyone on board a safe journey home". A lot of them didn't believe me, until the Captain came on the tannoy system and said "The Empress of Scotland " had sent a message and he repeated what I had said, I was made up I had managed to read it.

I can't remember how long we were in the Red Sea, but during that time an RAF lad had gone missing. They announced over the tannoy for him to report to the Prov Marshal (head of military police) but to no avail. We came to the conclusion, he had thrown himself overboard, for what reason, was anybody's guess.

The Suez was the next stretch of water we were in and it is 100 miles long, being a canal people were waving to us and the kids enjoyed themselves throwing things in the water. The Nottingham lad, (whose name I've forgotten) and I were starving, so we went to the galley and asked the cooks for something to eat. He said "There's nothing left, all we've got are carrots", they never tasted better, we were that hungry.

Quite a few of lads were sleeping up on deck, including myself and my mate, it was lovely to wake up in the morning to glorious sunshine. We were coming into the Med now, a little stop at Port Said in Egypt for maybe supplies and then on our way. The Med was different this time we were going home and there were no convoy ships, it was enjoyable. I mentioned earlier, we were sleeping on the deck and we woke up one morning to the site of "Gibraltar" it was a beautiful sight with the sunlight on it.

The "Bay of Biscay" had a reputation for rough seas, but this time it was ok and the whales were putting on a show for us, porpoises were very graceful creatures and followed the ship for miles.

We were on the last stage of our journey home and were getting excited, eventually we came to Liverpool Bay, after going up the coast seeing Cornwall, South Wales and Anglesey. We slept the last night away, before we went up on top and the sight of the Liver Building was a great feeling.

W e eventually landed at the Pier Head and the disembarking took some time, when we got on dry land I seen my dad and Grandad (Bob), they were made up to see me again. We had to go up to York to be demobbed and the train journey wasn't that bad, after being in those Indian Trains. The green of the grass was noticeable after the dry look in India. They did their best in York to encourage us to stay in the Army, you know, flowers and tablecloths on the dinner tables. The dinners were roasties, like a Sunday dinner, I don't think many were hooked by it all.

I wad demobbed on my 22nd Birthday on the 19/8/47. After getting my demob suit, I made my journey home and my dad met me at Exchange Station in Tithbarn St. I hadn't smoked for 6 months, but I went to a pub at the top of Moorfields and my dad offered me a cigarette and I took it. It was nice getting home and seeing my family again.

My demob suit didn't fit to my liking so, unlike these days, I asked my dad if I could borrow his suit, we were all going for a drink to celebrate my homecoming. I met Marie for the first time, she called down to go for a drink with us, and she looked very nice. Bob and Nin came with us, it was a pub on the corner of Kirkstall St. near the police station. The next day we went by coach with my mum and dad to Southport for a day out. I don't remember much about what went on that day, except that we both were on the beach and I carried Marie over a large pool of water. The same week we both went to New Brighton for a day out. Somewhere in our house there's a snap taken by a street photographer, we don't look as though we are enjoying ourselves.

A bout 2 or 3 weeks after me, Harry Cummins came home, I'd already met his family his dad was blind, Mr Cummins, Harrys sister Hetty and myself went down to see him coming home. As I was watching the troops coming ashore, I saw Harry but also spotted Billy Culkin who I saw playing football in Fort William. If you remember I went to school with him, years later, I was to see him often on Goodison Road, at the match with his son.

Marie was going to Burtons for ballroom dancing with her friends, so I started to there and enjoyed it, of course we'd had a drink before going there. My mother and dad used to drink in The Kendal Castle, known as the "Grapes" on the corner of Fountains Road and Westminster Road.By this time Bobby Skelton and Bobby Hoyland had been demobbed, Bob Skello and Harry got on quite well, but Harry couldn't take to Hoyland, I've mention before Hoyland was hard to get to know. Another friend was Joe Doran, he was in the Merchant Navy and he was out as well. We were doing a lot of drinking about this time and being on 2 months leave there seemed to be plenty of time. Marie and I danced a lot in Burtons and went to the local cinema, now and then. I was introduced to her friends who she grew up with, Jean and Doreen who were sisters, Marie Mackie and one or two other. My sister Ethel was one of the crowd of girls at "Burtons" and she was regular there. It was a nice atmosphere , I remember going there before I went away and felt out of my depth, they all seemed too old probably up to 25yrs, when you're 17 or 18 yrs. that's old.

I remember saying to someone that I would like to carry on radio operating possibly at the Post Office, but it was getting to the stage where I couldn't be bothered and was looking forward to starting Tyson's again.

About now, Marie's brother John who'd been stationed Malts for a while was coming home, she brought him up to Burtons and I went over to introduce myself. He wasn't very friendly, Marie and I had split up, and I don't think he liked me, full stop. Before we decided to split up I had met Marie's family, her mother was a lovely lady who did some nice fry ups for suppers. Her sister Lily and her husband Jim, they lived in the front room in Clare Road. Marie's father was causing trouble in one way and another, the first time I went to meet them Marie said "My father will be there, but don't talk to him". I found that hard to do, when someone speaks to you, you have got to answer them. He asked me, did I know anything about bikes and took me to the yard, I had a look and it only needed a minor adjustment. But from what I seen and was told he was a pest.

I 'd started back for Tyson's and was on the bench doing various jobs , it felt quite strange being back and it was an interrupted apprenticeship and I had a lot to learn. Harry Morris the foreman, was still there and Jack Smith the Manager.

Bob Skello and me were still going to the "Grapes" for a drink at night, and going to Goodison on Saturday afternoons. Going back to when I first came home, the following day was the first game of the season. I remember my dad saying "You haven't seen Nobby Fielding have you " I said I hadn't, my dad said you're in for a treat. He wasn't wrong, Nobby was a brilliant scheming inside forward and you never got tired of watching him and Eddie Wainwright his partner alongside of Tommy Lawton. Everton had won the old First Division in 1939 and Portsmouth beat Wolves for the cup, Wolves were strong favourites to win this game because they were being run by a man called Major Buckley, he used what was called monkey gland to boost their energies. They were a brilliant young team, the oldest being Stan Cullis at 21 yrs., but someone had done their homework and they were beaten 4-1 by Portsmouth. So Everton have a record that will never be broken, the leagues were disbanded when the war started and didn't start again till 1946 season, so we were Champions for 7yrs.

I used to say to Skello after the match "I'll see you by the valley at 7.30 tonight" and I was 99% certain, I'd still be there after 8 o'clock, he always fell asleep after his tea.

By this time I was out of the shop, the first job was like a punishment for being late. Mr Smith decided to send me to a Girls school in Helsby, the job was ok, it was just getting here, the 6.30 am train from Lime St. got you there for 7.45am. Me and a lad called Charlie McCabe worked together on this job. It was a derby match at Anfield this night and we both wanted to go, so we were on the train as soon as possible and we got to Lime St. probably about 6.15pm and had to try for a bus up to Anfield. The buses were loaded and we had no chance, so we started to run, we got to London Road to Shaw St., around now, we were able to jump a bus but it only went 2 stops before we realised it wasn't going our way. So it was running again, I don't like running at the best of times, but I wanted to see this match so we run and run. Eventually, we made it and Anfield Road was teeming with people, we were sweating like hell, because it was an effort. We got in the ground but were separated, he went one way and I went the other. Was it worth it, Everton lost 4-0 after all that.

After Helsby there were various other jobs I was on but one in particular was at United Molasses in Allerton. They had huge vats of molasses set up on a wooden floor, made up of lengths of 4 x 4 s into the ducts below, they wanted a concrete floor putting in and Tyson's were asked to do the job. The job was duly done, but it was time to strip the shuttering out, they asked Joe Doran and me to do it, it was one of the worst jobs I've ever done. We had to crawl into the ducts to knock out the standards to release the shuttering, we were covered in molasses which had attracted spiders. We had them all over us while we were working and they weren't small, it's a good job we had boiler suits on as well.

Ethel was a good source of information regarding anything that was going on in Burtons. Marie had met a chap from Rugby and there was talk about her going home with him, I decided , I couldn't let that happen. It was around Christmas, Marie had a young brother called Bernie aged 3, I had made a fort for him but the paint was wet on Christmas Eve. We made it up over that Christmas and were talking about getting married later on. John was still keeping his distance and wasn't at all friendly towards me.

Tyson's were building "The Peerless Oil Refining Co" on Dunning's Bridge Road, Netherton, and I was put on it, it was all shuttering, starting on top floor 80ft up.

Marie's brother John worked for M.D.H.B on light ships but got finished and was out of work. In the meanwhile Lily had a baby called Irene. At the Christening Marie's Uncle John began playing piano and someone asked me to sing. I sang a couple of my favourites, singing was something I enjoyed doing and had given a song or two at our local pub. John seemed to change after that although he couldn't sing himself, he appreciated the music.

Anyway back to Tyson's, I told John to call past the job at Netherton and see if he could land a job, he'd been a rigger on the light ships, so there was a chance with scaffolding. He came down and spoke to the foreman, George Casson but George couldn't fit him in. John came over to talk to me and after he had gone, George asked me who he was, I told him and he said "Tell him he can start with the joiners tomorrow". John worked with us for a month or so, but had a yearning for scaffolding. Tommy Cregg was the scaffolder and eventually, john got to work with him and fitted in perfectly .

We bought a couple of bikes and we used them to get to and from work. We had a holiday due, so we decided to ride to North Wales on them, we made for Chester, Wrexham, Oswestry then Llangollen, and we enjoyed it although it was hard work. I remember on the way home, we stopped at a small tea room, for tea and scones we were worried in case we didn't have enough money. Another time on the journey we stopped on the road side to make jam butties, we'd bought a small loaf and some jam and there we were eating jam butties on the grass. When we got to Liverpool, we went up Chapel St. and counted our pennies and just about had enough for half a beer each.

I was moved to a job in Leeds St. at O'Brien's Bottling Stores, Tommy Meadows was foreman on the job and we seemed to get on alright. Most of the work was shuttering and I was working with a couple of mates, one of them was George Bell who if you remember I almost went in the army with. The work dried up a bit on the job and after 10yrs with Tyson's, I was put on 2 hours' notice. The lad I was working with alongside George Bell said "Try J.D. Insulation in Hawthorne Road" they were open on Saturday mornings.

I got up next morning and got the bus down to Hawthorne Road near Linacre Lane. I found the foreman and he asked me if I'd worked on the bench before, I told him I had, so he told me to start Monday. I started work on the bench making inspection plugs which were made of teak, at first they were complicated but I was put right by old Billy Williams and then I was away. J.D.'s had two departments, one was the shipping shop, and the other was a fridge building department. I was working in the shipping and at last my money was double figures.

M arie and I were getting things together for our wedding, and the date was close. I took a few days off to get married, we couldn't afford too much for anything, let alone a honeymoon. I had invited Taffy Hixson and Joe Carson to the wedding, Joe could only stay for my stag night, but Taffy stayed the distance and enjoyed himself. He had a nice voice and serenaded a few girls on the stairs, we couldn't afford a hall, we had the reception at Mrs Duggan's in Clare Road, and I hope everyone enjoyed themselves. The morning after the wedding I went with Taffy down to Lime St. Station and I've never seen him since, he was a good friend to me during the time I was with him.

When I got back to work, quite a few had been finished, the boss made it clear, if I hadn't been off I would have gone as well, never the less I had a few more months work. Eventually due to work shortage they had no option but to put us on our notice. I walked up the yard and asked the foreman in the fridge building department for a job, and got one.

I started on Monday morning and was building fridges and sometimes installing them. We went out of town to various places, one was Cheltenham were we built a large fridge room for "Walls Ice Cream. it had 12" of cork all around the room for insulation. I must have had about 9 months doing this kind of work, it was very interesting

I  met up with Steve Milla who was a wrestler and was interested in body building, he was going to a gym in Kensington and he asked me if I wanted to work-out there, we were going about twice a week. I had managed to get a set of weights from a blacksmith who actually made them himself.

Marie was pregnant by now and we were looking forward to the birth. Grandad Bob had died suddenly in his sleep in 1949, my dad was absolutely devastated by his death, I've never seen him so cut up. Nin was at the wedding but wasn't well, and was in hospital when Marie was in the nursing home to have the baby.

Earlier in the year I had started to take singing lessons, with a lady called Miss Lockett from Carisbrooke Road, she was very good and learnt a lot from her. Later she introduced me to Tommy Tole a window cleaner with a big voice and asked him to help me get bookings. He was reluctant, because he sang the same kind of songs as me, he said there was a charity show in a little church close to Notre Dame School in Everton Valley. John Duggan came with me and I sang 2 songs, I couldn't stay because Marie was due to give birth.

When I rang the nursing home up that night Marie still hadn't' had the baby, but the next morning when I rang she had given birth at 11.50pm to a son, we called him Tommy. When I asked Marie what colour his hair was, I was amazed when she said "Red". I still get stick to this day for not being there when the baby was born. Just about the time Marie came out my Nin died without seeing the baby.

My next job was false ceilings I found out afterward that this firm was a subsidiary to Tyson's. We did a lot of studding to create offices on the sixth floor of Boots on the corner of Hanover Street in town. But mostly it was suspended ceilings we did, we did schools and factories, it wasn't much but it was a job.

Everton had been relegated in the 49/50 season, it was a terrible shock for every Evertonian. Apart from 2 or 3 Irishmen the team had come through the junior teams and had started to gel. Dave Hickson, John Willie Parker, Peter Farrell, Tommy Eglington were the hub of the team. T.E. Jones had taken over from T.G. Jones and Brian Labone was coming through, I always say the era was the most exciting and entertaining I'd ever seen. You may remember I mentioned Bobby Campbell the footballer I roomed with at MHOW, Chelsea came up to play Everton and Bobby was playing on the right wing, unfortunately I didn't get to speak to him.

In 1948 to 1949 my dad asked me did I want a day's work on a Sunday, he had a gang of men working on salvage goods called Sisell which had been damaged in a fire on-board a ship at sea. I went up to Burscough air strip where the sisal was laid out to dry, it was quite funny that day some of the gang were hiding behind the bales of sisal and one them said "You'll know when Tommy is around, he's always whistling. They didn't know who I was but later on when they found out they weren't sure what to say, they never saw me again, it was just a one off job.

Our Paul was born on 21/10/52, he was a beautiful blue eyed baby, by this time our luck was in, we were going to be given a new house in Ford, we had been married for three years and we now had a key to a new house. We were about 150 yds from the canal and the main road Gorsey Lane was a no speed limit zone. Unfortunately we never liked the house, it was badly built and had lots of draughts. Approximately one child a month was drowning in the canal. Our Bobby was born on 22/10/53 actually in 110 Gorsey Lane. Around this time we were getting visits from my army mate Geordie, he was a driver for a sweet firm. We had a visit before we left Clare Road, we were always glad to see him, he brought his wife one time just after Bobby was born. He used to leave a box of sweets for the kids every time he came. That was the last time I saw Geordie, I remember him saying, he was getting promotion soon to Manager.

About 1951 I went to work for Cammell Lairds in Birkenhead for the first time, I did some nice work there. The first job was 16 doors had to be hung in crew's quarters on the dredger "Leviathan". The foreman told me to take my time, the doors were highly polished and he said "Remember, you're not on a building site, remember the rake of the deck. It's different from hanging doors on a site and it was a case of being very careful.

A story I keep telling people over the years is when I worked in Cammell Lairds, I used to cycle from Clare Road to the Pier Head to catch the ferry. Now if the ferry had gone, or I thought I wouldn't catch it, I used to go through the Mersey Tunnel, those days you were allowed to cycle in the tunnel. This particular day I was very late, because Cammell Lairds closed their gates spot on 7.30am, I really had to move, so I got in the slow lane to start with, but a huge lumbering lorry was in front of me. I knew if I didn't go past I would miss work, so I overtook him then got back into my lane. About half way through I was behind another big wagon going too slow, so I did the same again and as I did, a police vehicle passed me. When I arrived at the end of the tunnel a Sergeant stopped me and asked me could I read, and pointed to six foot letters "NO OVERTAKING". I said, "if you're going to book me, do it because I've only got a couple of minutes left", he did book me and I only just made it to work. About a week later, I was in the local pub and a neighbour came up to me and said "I see you were fined for overtaking in the tunnel on your motorbike". When I said "It was my pushbike I go an unbelieving look from him. That's what I got most times when the told that story, I was only 25-26 yrs. old and fit, otherwise, I couldn't have done it. I think I was fined £3, it was actually in the Liverpool Echo, that's how my neighbour knew before me, I paid it at Birkenhead courts."

My mother-in-law noticed in the Echo that the "Liverpool Opera Co." were looking for singers and suggested I try for it. I wrote to them and they asked me to go down for an audition, I had a sort of congestion in my chest at the time but I still went. They asked me for sheet music and I gave the "Come back to Sorrento", I only sang 2 or 3 lines and they told me I had got through and landed in the chorus. I was with them until we moved to Gorsey Lane in Ford and I decided not to leave Marie and the kids, it was a bit out in the wilds at the time.

Through doing the Charity Show in Everton Valley Church I met a comic, his name was Jimmy Pullen who asked me did I want to get some experience going on bookings with him. He did his act and then introduced me to sing a song or two, I enjoyed it while it lasted.

We did a few factories in Birkenhead on suspended ceilings. A joiner called Harry Thompson used to like to hear me sing, I was keen on opera, especially tenor soles and used to try and sing songs I liked. Harry was my critic on the job and used to tell me if I was rubbish or not. We did a school one time putting ceilings in a couple of the classrooms, one of the lads who's name escapes me was getting married and wanted to take us all for a drink. We made the mistake of starting in the dinner hour and carrying on until late on Friday night (after work), we couldn't afford taxis so we had to get buses. Eventually, I made it home and Marie was at the front door, she was obviously worried and I was in the dog house for quite a long time. Peter Moylan was a mate of mine who was working with me and he had the same problem, mobile phones were unheard of them days.

I joined up with a lad called Tommy Minns who served his time in Tyson's but he was a few years younger than me. We went looking for work on his tandem (Bicycle–mad-for-two) and we covered some miles while we were together. We lost touch after a while and when I started with Knowsley Caravans he was already there, he didn't stay long because he was a bit of a wanderer.

It was in the middle of the 1950s and an epidemic of "Asian Flu" had arrived from the far east, it caused havoc all over Europe, people young and old were dying. I was down in the bowels of a ship when I started to feel bad, I started to sweat and yet felt cold. One of the men advised me to go home, but my first thought was what I would lose in wages. Eventually, I had to go home and I was off for something like 3 week. When the doctor first came, he said to Marie "He's the worst of all I've seen today".

We arrived at Gorsey Lane with 2 kids Tommy and Paul, we were made up to get our own house although there was a lot of work to do with the garden back and front. Just a couple of shops and that was it. The neighbours were from out of town they were key men in the English Electric in Netherton. Iris lived next door and was a good friend to Marie, she had 3 boys, the youngest was Christopher, and we often used to bring him to safety away from the main road. I remember being in Iris's and her husband (she called him dids) was talking about wages, he said "I don't know how they expect a man to bring a family up on £15 a week", and I was dumb struck. My wages were less that £9 a week, Marie worked wonders with what I gave her. Now, I wonder how she managed the kids, sometimes, while I was at work. Bobby and Anne were both born in Gorsey Lane. Except for Tommy all our family were born at home, that's the way it was then. Marie rationed the food to suit everybody and I remember Tommy asking "When can I have a full meat pie", because any pies were cut in half.

In 1953 Everton played Villa at Villa Park, John Duggan and I went by coach, when we got there, we joined a big line when we got to the turnstile the policeman stopped us, and said "That's it full up". He then told us to join another line on the other side of the ground, which we did and that was twice as big. It started to mushroom when it got near to the turnstiles and an old man was getting squashed, me and John kept the crowd off him to give him air. The outcome was , we missed out again we didn't get in and to top it all, a mounted policeman's horse reared up, I slipped and was almost killed, only that John pulled me out. When we got our breath back, we realised the next best thing was to go to the Park at the back of the ground, we could actually see some of the game. Anyway, with about 20-25 minutes to go they opened the gates, it was like the charge of the light brigade and me and John were in front. We got ourselves in a nice spot in the ground and a clearance out of defence was met by Ted Buckle who run from the right wing to the left and then slotted the ball in front of Dave Hickson who had started to run in a race with the centre half, Dave banged it home for the goal of the game. It was a consolation after not getting in earlier. The next round was just as good, we won against Manchester United at Goodison 2-1. Dave Hickson scored the winner with a bandage on his head. We went out in the next round, but I don't recall who it was, anyway, 1953-54 season we were back up and Liverpool went down. We had to beat Oldham 6-0 to win 2nd Division Championship, but could only win 4-0, Leicester won the Championship.

Another interesting job was converting a troop ship into a luxurious liner for Princess Elizabeth and Prince Philip to go to the Far East – Australia/New Zealand, and after all these years I've forgotten the name of the ship. Some of the work was classy, but the work was slow because of the lack of materials, but we still worked overtime. However, the King died and Princess Elizabeth was next in line, so the job was abandoned.

In 1952 I applied for a job shop fitting for Dewhurst (Butchers), I was interviewed by the manager, a straight lased stuffed shirt sort of man who always looked miserable . I got the job and enjoyed the work I was doing. Jack Hussin was on the next bench to me, he did he counters for the shops, a decent joiner but when it came to the machine shop he was too cocky, he should have had more respect for machinery, future events will prove this. About 18 months after I started, a young lad came to finish his apprenticeship after the firm he started with folded up, they made wooden pulleys for shipping, and his name was Jerry Carr. Jerry and I got on great, maybe because he was a good Evertonian had something to do with it.

Jerry and I got a start in Cammell Lairds in the new yard, the work was interesting, we were building cabins and then fitting the furniture inside, it was near to Christmas and I said to Jerry "Keep your head down and do your work. There were about 50 joiners on board and half of them didn't want to work, all they did was have sly smokes. When the ship finished, the foreman pulled six of us out and told us to go to Queens dock, to work on a ship doing some insulation work, this seen us over Christmas so it paid off to keep our heads down. Another time we were at Lairds and we the "Mauretania" had gone and docked at Gladstone Dock. J.D. Insulation was doing an insulation job over the weekend and a couple of all-nighters. It was short term, but the money was good, the job wasn't comfortable. We were lagging the pipes in the engine room, being the smallest I was in amongst the pipes and Jerry was cutting the cork to fit and between us we got things done.

The "Empress of France" had docked at Gladstone Cock and Jerry and I went down to see if there was any work. I always said to Jerry "always say you've done it before", so when the foreman asked us, we said we could do it, the work was polished panelling and looked good. The following morning we arrived for work and brought our boxes on board. This man came over to us and introduced himself as the jobs steward, he asked us if we had been sent from the Labour Exchange, we said no. He proceeded to tell us that we couldn't start, because we hadn't been through the proper channels. The foreman was furious he said they'll probably send me 2 old fogeys and as we were going towards the gangway these two old fogeys were coming up, so much for self-enterprise.

After the ships we found ourselves out of work, at this time we lived in Ford, jerry came up and he'd got us a start building caravans, it was new move to Kirkby. I was put on the erecting gang, jerry was furniture fitter and we enjoyed the work. We did some special vans for some gypsy's who always paid cash. I worked with a young man called Eddie Hare who was quite a funny lad, Eddie was only 21, and I was in my middle thirties. One of our gang was vehicle builder who thought he was better than any joiner. He was a very good sculpture in wood, but the problem with him was he was doing foreigners while working on a bonus scheme. He actually built a crib for his friend's baby. I was charge hand, so I had to tell him, he didn't think he was doing anything wrong, but he did stop. Someone came from Wigan, a boss of an Engineering Co. and also boss of a chicken breeder co., he wanted to buy Knowsley Caravans and move it to Wigan. He poached a few men to start it off, I was asked but declined because Bill Ferris (my boss) had been good to me and I decided to stick with him. Inevitably, he had to fold up and he thanked all those who stuck by him.

I went to Pemberton Caravans in Wigan and I was amazed how fast they were turning them out, the workmanship was terrible, they were knocking screws in with hammers and generally messing things up. The management were happy, they were coining it in.

I'd had enough and decided to ring the manager at Knowsley and ask for a job, his name was Billy Ratcliffe. He knew me from Kirkby, and knew I was alright, I could see me back on erecting again. Come Monday morning he put me on making the side frames and ends, it was ok but not like erecting. We were on a bonus scheme and it was a case of the more you build the more money you make. But then they got a new manager from Hull, who was full of ideas, the upshot wad, the quality of work dropped. A consignment was sent to Holland and was examined by an inspection on arrival, lots of essential strengtheners had been left out and the general quality of the vans had dropped. We lost the contract and ended up on flat time, someone had to pay for the cock up in Holland.

I mentioned to Marie, I was thinking of asking John for a job, he came in on the Friday night and I asked him, but he said there was nothing on. The following Friday, he came in and offered me the yard foreman's job at Manchester yard. I've worked hard quite a lot in my working life but scaffolding is hard, and if I hadn't have been doing weights immediately prior to starting, I'm sure I would have packed it in. It's a young man's game and if I hadn't been as fit as I was for my age 38yrs I don't think I could have done it. I was supposed to be yard foreman but I was out with gangs more than I was in the yard. I managed to keep the books in order when I could, but with going out it wasn't easy. This went on for about 2yrs, in and out of boilers in Power Station, I hated it. After a couple of years I went to work in English Electric in Litherland, the foreman was Tommy Warburton an ex scaffolder who thought he knew it all. He was always knocking John every chance he got, apparently John sacked him and his gang for not finishing a job and he never forgot it.

I used to go to the game every week with my dad and met John Duggan there, so Jerry joined up with us plus Bobby Skello. The atmosphere was great, we were all looking forward to the games and the banter was funny at times. I remember Jerry and I had stopped smoking for a while, when we decided to go to Stoke to see Everton v Port Vale in the F.A. cup. We went on his scooter and it was freezing on the back of the bike, we got in the ground easy, because Port Vale weren't a very high profile team. Another reason was, Jimmy Payne had been transferred from Liverpool to Everton, and it was his first game for Everton. He had a suspect heel and Liverpool off loaded him and basically Everton got a pig in a poke, he was rubbish and didn't play much more for the blues. I'd seen him earlier in his career when he played with Liverpool and he was being hailed as the next Stan Matthews . Jerry and I had a cigarette during that game, we won 2-1. Another time we went to Old Trafford on the scooter and came back in a snow storm.

While we were living in Gorsey Lane, we often walked down to the canal bank with the kids and the pram, the pram was full of sandwiches we would proceed to walk to Crosby Shore. It was quite a long walk and coming back was the worst, because we were all tired but we'd enjoyed the day and were glad to get home. We didn't have the luxury of a car and the only two buses that run didn't go anywhere near Crosby. I used to cycle to work and I got home one day to Gorsey Lane, Tommy and Paul were missing, right away it was panic because of the canal 100yds away, as I said earlier a few children drowned in that canal while we were there. Eventually they turned up with a neighbours son who was a couple of years older, they had been walk about and if my memory serves me right Tommy had filled his pants.

I remember riding home on my bike from Lambeth Road, when I got there one of the neighbours told us that Marie had taken Tommy to Stanley Hospital in Kirkdale, which was exactly where I'd come from. So I rode all the way back and they were just about to give him a needle, he'd fell on a nail in the fence and cut his chin open. They were going to stitch him u and although the doctor wanted me out of the way, I insisted he'd be better if I was there and so it was.

I used to go on my bike to Lambeth Road Kirkdale from Gorsey Lane and sometimes Litherland Bridge was up, so that meant I would be late, it was quite a journey especially in the winter.

I mentioned Jack Hussin earlier, he wanted a hand to cut a 12ft length of sycamore, and he wanted to cut it to 10" from 12" . He should have used to stick to push the timber through and didn't, as I took it off after it came off the machine, I heard a ping and when I turned he'd caught his right hand on the saw blade, there was blood everywhere. I grabbed his arm kept it up and pressed on the artery , I called old Sid Gibman who was an officer in St. Johns Ambulance but he was too slow. I run him over to Stanley Hospital, it was a Saturday and New Year's Eve, he lost two fingers and almost a thumb. Ironically, he was an accordionist and could read music and had actually played for me when I sung with Bill Gregsons band on New Brighton Theatre. A comic was the guest star that night, his name was Ken Dodd, and he's funny now and was funny then.

I'd been 5 yrs. at Dewhurst and enjoyed it, but the money wasn't good enough, and I'd been thinking of getting somewhere else. I mentioned it to Jerry and right away he said "I'll go with you, I need the experience", I refused but he insisted, so I said "well if that's what you want" ok. Austin who was the foreman at the time didn't like it at all but he wished us luck.

Jerry's dad had some connections with Mersey Insulations and right away we got a start. Shipping work was short lived, you got a dead line date and had to work to it, Jerry and I worked in a few shipping firms, one in particular was "Crichton's". The joiners shop was spotless and the work was ships furniture, I'd said to Jerry "If they ask you if you've done this kind of work , say Yes". "Hawsons" was another firm we worked for at the bottom of Sandhills, we were working there when the Manchester United team got killed in Munich Germany. These jobs were short term jobs but the money was good. Making ships furniture was good, the drawers were handmade dovetailed and you could take your time.

Really and truly Gorsey Lane was a nightmare, the house was badly built, especially the fitting of the doors and we always seemed to have colds. With the kids so young Marie was restricted to where she could go. I know she actually walked to her mother's other than struggle onto buses, the two buses on that route were 52 and 56.

More often than not I always worked and Marie looked after the house and kids, I suppose it was a case of taking things for granted, but looking back I realise it was hard going. I remember getting home once and Marie told me Paul had pushed Bobby's chair and his face was burnt on the bars of the fire, Paul panicked and screamed the house down. Later on that night she was nursing Paul and she fainted, Iris came in and after a drink of water she sat up. The whole thing had got on top of her and the doctor suggested we get the kids minded. My mother-in-law took the 2 youngest, and my mother took Tommy for a week. It gave Marie a break for a while, but we were glad to get them back.

A neighbour 2 or 3 doors away had a television and when there was any sport on, he used to send for me. Either boxing, football or any sport we enjoyed the shows. When there were any films on, his wife would send for Marie. One time they asked us both in together, we were reluctant to leave the kids in bed. I said I'd come back every 15mins to check on them, I did that for the time were in there and everything was ok. But when we got home, they were lined up together on the top stair crying they thought we'd left home, we never did it again.

Talking about T.V., them days to buy a television you needed a big deposit and we had , bit by bit saved about £40 to get a T.V. Anyway, Marie had seen an advert in the "Echo", a T.V. for sale with the new ITV Box on it for £40. It was up in Wavertree, John Duggan took me up in his old car, it was a posh area and we eventually found it. He showed us the set, both stations were perfect and I said I'd take it, I'd knocked a T.V. table up and bought a dipole aerial, so I was ready for the set. John and I got it home, put it on the table and turned it on, the sound was perfect, but the picture was taking it's time, in fact there wasn't any picture. I remember the Wimbledon Tennis was on at the time so it was summer, I rang the fella we bought it off, and told him about the set. He said "I'll sent someone down" which he did and this chap worked on it. He then informed us it was a vital part that had gone and it would cost me £5. I told him I couldn't afford £5 it was over half my wages, I said call your mate and tell him he's got to pay. Good enough, he did and I had a picture, it didn't last long before I had more trouble in fact it was always going off. I come across a T.V. repair van near where we lived, he came in every time it went off, and it was starting to cost me. It was close to Christmas and it started again, when I called him in he said it was the tube. With kids you needed to have a good picture for the Christmas show, somehow we scraped the money together and we got over Christmas. I ended up selling it to a friend of ours who was a handyman when it came to T.V's, he got it going properly and had it for a couple of years after that.

Our Anne was born on 15/11/56, we had waited quite a while for a girl, now we'd made it at last, and we couldn't take our eyes off her. Tommy got up and nearly fell down the stairs to see the baby, then went outside to tell everyone he could.

John Duggan had progressed in the Scaffolding after working in some of the big firms. He was always full of ideas but most of them went down the pan, but he came in and said he was starting a Scaffolding Company with 2 partners. I had a few drinks with them and they built castles in the air, one of them dropped out soon after, then emigrated. John asked me, would I consider going in with them, but I, at the time didn't want to take a chance, probably the wrong decision, but that's how it is, you take the chance or not.

W e were both laid off at the time and Jerry got us both a job building caravans in Kirkby. The firm was Knowsley Caravans and had started in Crosby but got so busy they needed more floor space, we started on the Monday morning in Kirkby.

After 5yrs in Ford, a girl who lived near to us said her mother was looking for someone to take her house over so she could move up to be near her daughter. So an exchange was sorted out and we were back to Clare Road, what a relief that was, we were near to our families, nearer the shops and Marie was delighted. I was near to Goodison as we so I was delighted too. It was good to get away from the canal and the traffic on the main road. We'd made a few friends up there, apart from Iris, two friends lived at the back of us called Jim & Lily Savage. We talked for hours over the back garden fence until it went dark sometimes, Lily died not long after we left Gorsey Lane.

It was about 1958 when we got to Clare Road. We had some very good neighbours, like the two old ladies next door, Mrs Barlow and Auntie Gert, they were excellent people. Mr & Mrs Thompson across the road, she was a good friend as well. Over all we were happy in Clare Road, the kids were growing up and they were happy too. 75 Clare Road had a gable end because the two houses next door had been bombed during the blitz, this caused us to have a lot of dampness.

Our Bobby had an accident about this time, he was playing with a ball at the top of Clare Road when a van came around the corner and knocked him down. The driver didn't have a license, no insurance and god knows what else. When he came to the house the following day with his 2 bodyguards , he didn't believe us about Bobby going to hospital. I offered to take him down to the hospital to see Bobby who had a hair line fracture of his skull. The Police came to see us about the accident and believe it or not, the detective asked me did I know what I had put the driver through. I told him I wasn't interested in the driver, maybe it's because I had a child in hospital with a fractured skull. He was definitely was trying to make me feel guilty for some reason. We sat for hours at his bedside, thankfully he was ok after week or so.

Another story was concerning our Anne. I was with John Duggan going along Southport Road, Bootle towards town and I happened to glance over to the top of Clare Road. I could see Anne and her mate running across the main road with traffic everywhere. I got the fright of my life and asked John to stop the car, I went over and grabbed her belted her behind all the way down the entry. She never did it again, and she's never forgotten it. Earlier on when she was very young our Anne got hold of a bottle of Antusin cough medicine and swallowed half the bottle, I ended up in Stanley Hospital getting her stomach pumped.

For holidays for a few years we went to Gronant near to Prestatyn and Rhyl. A Mr Washington used to let his bungalow out to us for the week. It was only a wooden hut but we liked it, and the kids loved it. More often than not we had good weather and we lived on my wages from the week before. We had no car them days and went by coach. It was a pantomime going down the narrow road to the camp. I was laden with all the cases and was trying to keep the kids off the road with my feet, it must have looked funny to passers-by. My mother-in-law and her two boys were always included in these holidays, Bernie was the oldest and as soon as we reached the camp I'd tell him to go an buy a ball, we'd have a good kick around and the kids would join in. One year we did just that and I kicked the ball through the glass panel in the front door. I was called some names and I finished up putting in new glass with a screwdriver and a knife, but they were good, cheap holidays.

I started to take Tommy to Goodison when he was around 10 or 11yrs, it was standing on the terraces them days, and only being short he had trouble seeing. With going every week to the same place everyone knew each other which created a nice atmosphere. To get over Tommy's problem, I made a small box about 6" high and the crowd would let him get down by the wall and he could just about see the match. Both me and my dad were quite short and many a time we'd think "This is great, we could see both goals and everything was fine. Then about 2 minutes to 3 we'd get a fella about 6'3" in front of us, my dad never stopped muttering about it for the whole match. Tommy got football into his blood early on and played for the school team at Westminster Road. When Stanley Matthews started a scheme to let young players progress I got him to Tommy to write to Mathews . He got a letter back telling him to be in town with a guardian and to make our way to Stoke, when we got there, Stanley split the boys into 2 teams and organised a match. Tommy had a good game on the right wing in a 9-4 win, I enjoyed the match and was made when Mathews coached him from the touch line. After the match I got Tommy to ask Mathews for his autograph, and he did, Mathews ruffled his hair and told him he'd had a good game. Jackie Mudie was a Scottish centre forward who played for Blackpool, he was assistant to Mathews on this scheme. I approached him and asked him what happens now, he said it was a process of elimination and Tommy was going on, however it fell through, some technicality caused it to collapse. Tommy went on to play for various clubs including Southport. He was learning to drive at the time and I let him drive to the ground for training and match days. He has managed a number of clubs, and at time of writing he is with Prescot Cables in the Unibond league after bringing them up from N.W.C.

O ur John was born on 3/12/63 in 75 Clare Road, it seemed forever before he came on the scene, there had been complications before he was born but everything went ok in the end. Marie had previously had a miscarriage so she had to careful. He was a big baby his weight went off the scales and he looked about 3 months old people were amazed at the size of him. Barbara Thompson our neighbour from over the road came to see him and I remember Ethel & Frank coming over as well. John grew up in Clare Road, and was a live wire as he got older. The older lads played football on the waste ground next to our house, if the ball went over the backyard wall, they'd sent John over to get it, he was like a monkey, the way he leapt around the wall. Another time he fell off the wall and a nail in a piece of wood caught his leg and ripped, he needed stitched in it, so we took him to Walton Hospital and they did what had to done. He got a Chitty Chitty Bang Bang motor when he came out.

In 1966 Everton got to Wembley and everyone was excited over it, I would have loved to have been there but I simply couldn't afford it, especially as I didn't have a ticket. Knowing my luck I knew I wouldn't get in anyway, the expense was too much to take a chance on. I was delighted they had won after being 2-0 down and then to go on to win 3-2. Black players were very rare in the 60s but the blues had one, a lad called Treblecock and he scored 2 goals that day before Derek Temple scored the winner. I believe my dad went to that match. They got to Wembley again two years later and this time I took a chance, we went by coach from The Mons pub in Bootle. Frank Dorman asked could he bring his daughter, Beverley, we warned him that the bus was full of men and bad language inevitable but he insisted. My dad didn't want her to go but he couldn't do much about it. Our Tommy, Bernie, my dad, Bernie's brother-in-law, Philip Fletcher and myself were among the people on the bus. The whole atmosphere was wonderful from the time we left Bootle, right up to when Jeff Astle scored the only goal of the game. After that not so good, Bernie and I had tickets for the stands, my dad was in the ground. I often think about that, I should have given my dad my ticket and I should have been in the ground, because I don't think he was too well at the time.

Another story regarding our Bobby, he'd been in Walton Hospital for an appendix operation and had come through it fine. But on the day were leaving for Wembley he went missing, we went round all his mates and they hadn't seen him, we were getting worried now, then I suddenly had an idea. I went down to Walton Hospital and there he was sitting talking to a man who had been on the ward with him. I got him home as quick as I could, we were all relieved, and I was able to get the coach for Wembley.

Bobby had started to learn the guitar, getting lessons off Alan Wright who had his own band, after a while he was playing with the band, he was about 16yrs old. One particular booking his drummer didn't turn up and they asked Steve O'Hanlon , who was our Pauls mate, to sit in. He wasn't good enough, so Bobby took over and Alan reckoned he was better than the original drummer, from then on he was the drummer for the band. He was a pain for me at that time because I couldn't get him out of bed to look for a job. It wasn't until I realised that all he wanted to do was entertain people that I gave up. He progressed through the years from band to band, but the most successful period was when he was with "Elliot". They were an excellent band and managed to get on T.V. with "Opportunity Knocks" run by Hughie Green. Now he's gone solo and is making a living.

Our Bobby met Francis McAvoy while he was with "Elliot" and she was student teacher at the time, I remember going to her 21st birthday party up in Croxteth. They got married and moved about from one place to another and eventually bought a house in Aintree, where Francis is still living. They had two girls, Michelle and Amanda. Unfortunately they divorced and now live apart but are good friends. Bobby is now a grandad he has three granddaughters Amy, Olivia and Sophie and their lovely. Francis is a deputy head in Kirkby and has been for a number of years.

O ur Paul started an apprenticeship in Wall & Floor tiling at Davison's and stuck it out until he came out of his time. He then, for some unknown reason went into scaffolding working for John Duggan, he worked on various sites around Runcorn and Widnes. During his teens he had a couple of good mates, Steve O'Hanlon and Alan Wilson and they liked a drink together, and had a couple of holidays abroad. During his teens he met a few girls but nothing came out of it, he knew Chris from when they were younger and they eventually got together. They got married and Jenny was born later on when they were living with us in Bailey Drive, approximately three years later Suzanne was born.

A year or so after Altitude started, they managed to get some work on Tate & Lyle in Love Lane. One of the jobs was on a flat roof 100ft up and the materials had to be pulled up on a rope and wheel, at the time I was starting my first two week holiday. John asked me if I would help them out in one of my weeks off and I said yes. It was Stan Fruin and me pulling up on the rope and wheel, it must have looked funny, Stan was 6'2" and me 5ft something. We got the job done and finished and they were both made up. The next week John turned up at our house and said he couldn't pay me for helping them out, but would I like to learn to drive in an old Bradford Jowett van. Although it surprised me, I agreed and so we ran all over Liverpool. Now in them days if a vehicle didn't start on the key you used a cranking handle to turn the engine over. The Bradford didn't have a starter motor, so if you let the clutch out while it was ticking over, it would stall, then you would have to crank it. So when we were going up Church St. toward Bold St., we came to a zebra crossing and there were hundreds of people milling around and the engine stalled. I looked at John and he looked at me and then he said "You're the driver, you know where the handle is", I felt a right fool trying to turn it over but eventually it did. I passed my test at Crosby in 1962.

I was knocking a wall down in Clare Road, I looked through a hole in the wall and seen my future daughter-in-law for the first time her name was Beverley. Tommy and Bev were married at St. Francis De Sales in Walton. My mother and dad were there because it wasn't long before he died. Our Anne was only 14yrs and was a bridesmaid. Their first baby was born in February 1971, my dad died in that year but got to cradle the baby (Mark) in his arms before he died. He'd be quite proud of Mark if he was alive to-day, he has done very well for himself. They went to live in Parbold near Wigan and are still there after 30 years, Tracey was born around the same time as they moved in. Tracey is married now and lives in Tarleton Nr. Preston with Chris her husband. Mark is also married with 2 children to Vanessa who comes from Wigan, they live in Parbold and Mark is quite successful in work.

A few good friends have died, Harry Millington first then Fred Walker and later on Frank Mithcell and Frank Dorman. A few years later after a long illness John Duggan died in Southport hospital, John's wife Kathleen did a great job, visiting him every day while he was ill. I owed a lot to John, he did his best for me while I worked for Altitude. I never really liked scaffolding, but John always used to say the only people you can trust are your family.

Going back to when I worked in Altitude, there was a Liverpool driver and he was a great help we worked well together, his name was Peter Corkill. One particular job we did was a church in Wigan, we delivered the material and I made a list of everything, a couple of weeks later we picked the materials up and gave it into the office. The next day I was called into the office and the secretary told me there was lot of fittings missing, John wasn't too happy about it. But I asked her to check it again, she did and apologised to me, because she had made a mistake, I was relieved, so was John. Another time I worked on a power station with a couple of Manchester scaffolders, we were having breakfast in the canteen when one of them said "How come you have to come from Liverpool every day when they could use a Manchester man". I then proceeded to tell them I was related to John, the silence was deafening, one them said "We've got a spy in the camp. I told them I was there to earn a living and not to spy on anybody, as the years went on I had to tell quite a lot the same thing.

I went off the job for a while, for what reason I don't know, while I was away the gang on site were robbing lead and copper from where ever they could. They were caught by security, stripping lightening conductors, consequently they were fired, Altitude were lucky to be still on site. They needed a new foreman and asked me would I do it, I took over and things went on alright. We had a four man gang, the labourer was Johnny Cooke ex British Welterweight Champion. We were there until the "English Electric" closed down, I was put on "Bibbys" on the dock road,

We went on holiday to the I.O.M. with a party of 36 including all the kids, to put it in a nutshell, it was awful everything went wrong. The weather was terrible and Marie and I fell out and it lasted the full holiday. My parents were with us, I think my dad was the only one who enjoyed the holiday.

During the time my dad was ill, he had to go to Clatterbridge Hospital for treatment and to get there was awkward for us because we didn't have a car. However, Tommy had an old banger he offered to lend me to over to the hospital, it was a godsend and served the purpose. Believe it or not Tommy got in it after we finished using it, and the car packed up on him.

My dad died the following year of cancer, we looked after him between us, Marie, Ethel, Frank and myself, we looked after him a couple of hours each time until he died. It was something you couldn't imagine, it was unbelievable. I was working on my own, which was worse I couldn't stop crying. It took a long time to get over my dad's death but they say time is a great healer. My mother continued to live in 43 Ripon Street in Walton, where she lived with my dad for approximately 7 yrs. after moving from Carisbrooke Road.

My family were growing up, Tommy was 20 and had finished his time as a fitter at Scotts Bakery, Netherton, and was married, Paul was working as an apprentice tiler, Bobby was pursuing his show business career, Anne was 14-15 and still at school, John was around 7 and a live wire.

That year we went on our first holiday abroad, John Duggan talked us into it and helped us financially. We went to Pinada in the Costa Brava in northern Spain, all the kids except Tommy went with us and it was fabulous, being August it was hot. I remember walking down the steps from the plane at something like midnight and at first couldn't understand why it was so hot. It was a great holiday, one we will never forget. We went to a massive barby, it so happened it was my birthday and our John (7yrs) thought they'd all come to my birthday party, there was at least 500-600 people there.

John Duggan asked me if I fancied starting my own business along with Brian his youngest brother. We decided to do it, we bought a lease on a shop in Linacre Road and started a building company with a D.I.Y. shop. Marie ran the shop and she did it exceptionally well. We started doing grant work and made a load of mistakes on some of the jobs. Neither of us were good for business, I only knew one aspect of the building trade and that was joinery. I found myself pointing brickwork, laying concrete and other things I wasn't conversant with. We were on minimum money, which was hard going, Marie was on buttons for what she done in the shop. On top of everything we had a couple of break-ins , one in particular was over Christmas and completely cleaned us out. The insurance had run out, so that was a blow, after everything else. The police said they knew who it was but they couldn't do anything because if they walked in the pub the thieves would know them, they asked if we would go in and bring them out. We told them where to go. There was some friction between Brian and me which made it uncomfortable to work together. Overall I wanted out, the sooner the better, I wasn't enjoying it and something had to happen. One big mistake we were making was starting and finishing jobs and then had to wait for payment, interim payments was the way to do it, what's done is done. To cut a long story short we had to fold up, we still owed the bank. John Duggan sorted it out and we had to pay him back over a period of time. It took a long time but we eventually paid our half of it.

So it was back to scaffolding, in hindsight I suppose I should have gone back to my tools, but John said "Start in the yard, on Monday", it was a job and John had been good to us. I worked on various jobs mostly on sites. John asked me did I fancy driving a tractor with a trailer, I said I'd try it. The idea was to deliver loads to various parts of ICI in Runcorn. We went up the East Lancs Road to get a new tractor and John left me in a field to practice, it was alright going forward but backing the trailer up was a nightmare. It must have been about 2 weeks before I mastered it, I even asked an experienced R/Tic driver for a clue but he couldn't manage it, after I had worked it out I got quite good at it.

It was in the 70s when John Duggan asked me did I fancy going on a site in Ellesmere Port called "Chemico" and I agreed. He arranged for me to join the union and he took me over to the site. When we arrived John said "you'd better go and get to know everyone over in the hut". It was walking into a lion's den, as I opened the door all eyes turned to me and they didn't look very friendly. I found a seat and parked myself and before long two men approached me and asked me who I was and wanted to see my union card. When I showed my card, one of them a right smart alec said "You haven't been in long enough" and it looked as if I wasn't going to start. I went to see the foreman a lad called Ronnie Tysteel and told him about it. Anyway, it was sorted out and I went to work, those days the unions were quite strong so it was run by union officials. It took me a few weeks to get the rest of them to accept me, when they did, it wasn't so bad.

The firm got a new truck especially for the moving of scaffolding around the site and they asked me would I drive it. I used it on site and also tool Ronnie Tysteel home at the end of the day, Ronnie wasn't cut out to run sites, so at the end of the day he was absolutely exhausted. Some of the men would try me on at dinner time and ask me to run them to the pub, but they weren't on. They would pile on the back and I would run them to the site gate and that was all.

A story regarding unions again, two men were found by one of the site inspectors asleep off the site, in a field and were sacked on the spot. The union stepped in and consequently we were out on strike for three days and they were re-instated. We lost three days' pay for a pair of lazy layabouts who were without doubt "Guilty".

One character on the site who's name escapes me, was an ex amateur boxer, who when he had drink in him was a complete menace. One day he walked into the hut they used as an office and had the time keeper by the throat, ready to throttle him and then ended up butting the clock, we clocked in on. Another day he came back from a session at the pub and stood in the square outside the huts, he challenged any man to fight him. Now he was no more than 10 and half stone and about5'8" tall and I said to one of the lads "What makes him so special, there's nothing of him", he replied "Have you seen him go", I said "I hadn't, the answer was "If you had, you wouldn't have to ask the question." Anyway he had to go, but who was going to sack him, John, Stan and Gerry Connelly came over to do it, but Stan and Gerry backed out, leaving John to do it. All of us could see the office from our hut and because the weather was bad we were all in, one of them said "Duggan's got him outside and they are talking". John had to give him promises that he would get all that was owed to him, plus a bit more if the truth was known. The story goes, when he left the site he got drunk and kicked his own front door down.

There were a family of brother (3) on site called Bagga from Kirkby, a right gang of no marks, one of them was Tony who was the steward who nearly stopped me from starting. The youngest of them was learning to drive and one day asked if he could drive the truck, I thought well we are not on the main roads so I said ok. I think it was the second day, he was driving along a track and a wagon was coming towards him, I told him to slow down but he didn't. Ronnie Smith was driving the wagon, anyway he hit the wagon and badly damaged the offside wing. I went mad and called him a few names, I then had to hide the truck so the office couldn't see it. The next morning I had to tell someone so I got hold of John and told him. He said "If it was only our wagon involved it was ok, but I said "I think you'd better look at it first". It was worse than he thought so he said "See if you can get someone to knock it out for you and don't let Stan see it. A panel beater did his best to make it better, we got away with it for a while until Stan seen it and shouted a bit. Another time, Tony Bagga asked me for the keys, not long before we were due to go home. I asked him "what for" he said he wanted to move furniture at home, I refused. I told him to get in touch with Stan Fruin and if he says "Yes" you can have it. He wouldn't do that, instead he went to the Assistant Foreman who was terrified of them anyway he asked me to give them the keys. I refused, in the end he threw things at me like it was him who'd got me my Scaffolders card and I wouldn't be on the site only for him. Then I hit him with the fact that I'd saved his brothers job by taking the blame for the truck accident, he didn't get the truck. Tysteel couldn't handle some of these men and he was very near to a breakdown, something he was near to tears on our way home at night. They had the union behind them and knew they could get what they wanted. Another example was one afternoon an inspector asked me to put a little platform up for welders to work on a pipe run. I started to assemble the gear, when the charge hand came up and asked me what I was doing, when I told him, he said "We've done our quota for today leave that until tomorrow. The inspector asked us why we hadn't started and the charge hand said "One job in the morning and one job in the afternoon, and this one's for tomorrow". The job involved six small tubes and four 8ft boards and would have taken us half an hour. Altitude must have made a lot of money out of that site, but not without some drawbacks and worry. One day I was sitting in the hut with a chap called Billy Swan and out of the blue he said "Are you related to Duggan". I thought, here we go, I said I was his brother-in-law and he said, "a spy in the camp eh", I told him what I'd already told a few people over the years "I'm only here to earn a living and not here to spy on anyone". He obviously told the hut, because I got a few dirty looks, but they eventually got used to the idea. The weather was terrible, we got a lot of snow which iced up the boards so we couldn't work, so it was in the hut, sometimes up to a week at a time. I think this is why I don't like playing cards, because we played card games all day and every day.

O ur John was courting Vivien who was living in the Walnut Pub in Bootle, her dad was the manager. John asked me if I fancied a pint in the pub one night, anyway, we went down and stood at the bar and after a few minutes John said "Let's go in the other room it's quieter there". When we opened the door, I nearly fell over, everyone in the family was there, it was a nice surprise and I appreciated it, it was my 60th Birthday and it was great. John and Viv moved into Smollett St. off Knowsley Road, Bootle and after they were settled they invited us for a meal, along with Viv's Mum and Dad. We hadn't met properly and they said it was a good opportunity for everyone, I'm sure we all enjoyed it and it was nice to get together. Unfortunately Viv's dad died of a heart attack a couple of months later, he was only 61yrs old.

John and Viv got married at St Philips in Church Road, Litherland and were still living in Smollett St. They moved to Fazakerley (Winifred Road) after a while and Viv was having a baby, later on Lee was born, a lovely boy, Jemma was born 3 yrs. later she was a beauty.

Our Anne had a few boyfriends while she was a teenager, she got quite serious with Billy Mullane they even got engaged and were looking at houses. But he was a bit of a loser and with one thing and another they finished up. She introduced us to Richie Nuttall soon after that. They were married in 1976 at Robert Bellamines Church in Bootle, Anne looked lovely and I was quite proud to walk down the aisle with her. Ryan was born first, he was premature and very fragile, Warren was next he was born in 1978. They had a few places they had lived in, first was with Richie's mother and his brothers, then they moved to a flat in Walton Vale. They moved to Seaforth, a street called Rossini close to Lily, Marie's sister. Warren was just one around the time they moved up to the Field Lane Estate and bought a house in Denise Road. Estella was born in 1981, not long before Nan Duggan died in Feb 1982. Richard was born in 1983 and they have lived in Fazakerley for 25 yrs.

We'd lived in Bailey Drive for 9 years and it was time to move on. We moved to Jubilee Drive off Park Lane in Bootle, It was a cul-de-sac and it was a lovely house, the neighbours were very good as well. Aunty Doll was our next door neighbour, a widow who had lived in the house all her married life and after her husband died. She was riddled with arthritis but had a wonderful spirit and was always cheerful. While I was with Litherland M.V.C. we took her to a couple of our concerts at Crosby Civic Hall. Our other neighbours were a family called Baker, Dave and Pauline had two girls and a boy. Dave was a good gardener and worked on it a lot and consequently he had a good crop of everything, they both worked for the Metal Box in Bootle.

I was working for Knotty Ash when we moved and the driver offered to move us, what a mess the place was when he'd finished, it took us a long time to get ourselves straight. We enjoyed our stay in Jubilee and got on alright with all the neighbours. I bought an old banger off a friend of our Tommy's who lived in skelmersdale, with a respray it only cost me £100. It was quite reliable for the time I had it and I was still driving it when we started the Chippy in Skem. We used it for a short while and eventually traded it in, I was allowed £700 on it. Tommy and I got two Maestro's and Marie and I used to pick up stock in the car, we did that for quite a while. We decided to get some kind of a van for the stock, Tommy's car was wrecked, so I gave him mine and traded his in for a new Honda Van. What a difference putting stock in the van as opposed to the car.

A story from when we lived in Bailey Drive. They were pulling down the houses in Marmion Avenue around the corner from where we lived, and then building new ones. Any timber stripped out was put on a bonfire and burnt, I'd seen a back gate, I thought I could use, so I took it and fitted it, it looked tidy. The only thing missing was the receiver for the thumb latch, our John was about 13-14 and I asked him to take a screw driver and get me the receiver, which he did. The next thing, the police were knocking on our door and were asking questions. Apparently a neighbour had seen John and his mate fiddling and alerted the police. I explained to the Sergeant other than see it destroyed by fire, I could put the gate to good use, his response was "We are going outside now to decide whether to charge you with theft". I was gobsmacked when he came back to tell me I was being charged along with our John, we had to go to Bootle Police Station and go through the humiliating experience of getting my fingerprints taken. We were summoned to Bootle Magistrates Court. In the meantime I contacted Rex Makin and after we were allowed Legal Aid, we were represented by Rex Makin's son, I think we must have been his first case. When we got to the courts he told me to plead guilty and I would just be fined a small amount. I said there was no way I was doing that and when I went in they read the charges and asked me how I pleaded, I said "Not Guilty". The next week we had to go through it all again and eventually we were referred to the Crown Courts in town. When we got there, the case before us was murder case and went on for longer that was expected, so we had to go over to Birkenhead Courts. Young Makin got us a barrister and I sat and told him the story, when we got in, being a crown court there was a jury of 12 people. The barrister was brilliant and made everything sound so easy. Then I had to take the stand and the judge asked me did I think I was stealing when I took the gate and I said "No I didn't" It took the jury about 5 minutes to find us "Not Guilty", what a relief for us both, but my argument is, it was not necessary, just because a mindless idiot as that Sergeant was, decided to charge us. I would like to know how much of the tax payers money was spent on the case. I could have gone the easy way by pleading guilty but we weren't , so I didn't, apart from that we would have had a criminal record.

Another part of my life I didn't enjoy was Christmas of 1972, the previous year my dad had died. Without going into detail me and my sister Ethel had a fall out which lasted 14yrs, but gladly all is fine between us now.

Another site I worked on, was Sandbach I actually ran that job, I had a good gang of men from Manchester. When I arrived there were people screaming for their jobs to be done, it took me some time to organise things. Eventually things settled down and we did ok, the job lasted about a year.

I.C.I Widnes was dominated by North West Scaffolding when we landed some work on the site. It was an uphill battle, because N.W.S. were favourites for the best jobs. Their supervisor Bobby Stewart was there every day and used to take the bosses out for drinks or a meal, it worked. I gave our office all this information but nothing happened.

Crossfields in Warrington was a similar situation, Liverpool Depot were running it and for some reason, the powers that be wanted them off the site and Manchester was going to take over. The foreman Liverpool had been using, was fired, so he starts up on his own with brand new gear and he used rock bottom prices, his face was known on site. I approached inspectors and foreman every day but it was like banging your head against the wall, once again, no visits from the office. I actually got the blame for us not being successful on the site. I challenged the person who told me, I said I'd take the 2 bosses and anyone else who wanted to come to the site and introduce them to the inspectors and foremen to prove my word. Needless to say no one took me up on it, they were alright talking from behind a desk. The real problem was none of them had the enthusiasm John Duggan had, if they had, things may have been different.

Brian Duggan had become manager of the Manchester yard and was instrumental in my getting on some of these sites. The rumours were going around that they were selling out to Cape a worldwide concern and a clean out was inevitable. Brian had to put me and his father-in-law on notice, I was 56yrs and I wasn't sorry, the staff in the office all Manchester men didn't like scousers anyway. Brian was ousted out and they brought their own people in, I was glad to be out of it. There is no way I would have stayed in scaffolding if it hadn't had been for John Duggan. Every time I thought about leaving I felt I'd be letting him down. I may have been wrong but I felt a certain resentment towards me from some in the Liverpool Office.

I was out of work, we were living in Bailey Drive, Bootle after leaving Clare Road. My mother-in-law was ill and needed looking after. She'd lived with Brian and his family in Fernhill Road and for the most part, could look after herself. She had a stroke and was deteriating slowly and they couldn't cope, we took her home with us and looked after her until she died in Feb 1982.

I was out of work and our neighbour next door had his own joinery firm in Bootle, he'd bought a big house in Stanley Park, Litherland and asked me if I want to work on it for £80 a week. I accepted, the weather was shocking, we'd had heavy snow falls and I used to walk from Bailey Drive to the job. The work varied, but I was enjoying myself, he asked me would I go to London with his partner's son to a building site, to bead hundreds of windows that hadn't been finished. We went by car and we made a few bob out of it.

While I was working on the house, I was taking our John on driving lessons, he was only 18yrs and to cut a long story short, he passed first time and we were all delighted.

I applied for a job with Knotty Ash Joinery, after seeing it in the Echo, I got the job. I was to start in a house off Edge Lane, our John took me up there in a car he'd got hold of. I was a bit nervous, but it only took a couple of hours before I felt I'd never been away. I worked there for a few weeks, then went to Hornby Road, Walton close to Walton Jail. It was a block of terraced houses and they were being converted into flats, that lasted a couple of months and then they asked me if I wanted to work in the Joiners shop and I accepted. Mike Blanchflower was the foreman in the shop and he was an excellent tradesman. We did various jobs there, but it was mostly making window, box frame type etc. I enjoyed it in the shop, there was Mike, myself, a lad just out of his time and an apprentice. After a few months Mike asked me to show the apprentice how to do the windows, which I did, as soon as he'd got the hang of them, I was moved to a job outside. There was very little for me to do and I feared the worst, Vinnie was one of the bosses and it was him who gave me some excuse and fired me. What it was, I'd been there 1yr 11 months and after 2 years, they have to give you severance pay, I'm sure that was the reason. Mike was quite happy with me in the shop and told me so.

It didn't take me long to land another job, the Sefton Council were wanting men to work on the flats in Marsh Lane, Bootle. Mainly, it was maintenance work, like hanging new doors, fitting kitchen units, repairs to windows etc., I was there about 2 yrs. up to 1984.

Our Tommy had been running a mobile chippy van, but there was a chance he may be able to buy and existing business. It was a chippy come corner shop and appeared to be doing well, he asked Marie and me did we want to go in on it. I was nearing 60yrs and we were undecided, so we went up one day and watched scores of school kids going in and out in their dinner hour. We were convinced it would be alright so we agreed, I suppose the extra collateral was needed for the bank to let us have the money. We decided it would be 2 on days and 2 on nights, Tommy had a girl who helped him on the van and she agreed to fall in with us. Our Anne helped for quite a long time, and our Paul came up occasionally. The first year was unbelievable, the takes were brilliant especially on Friday and Saturday nights. Marie and myself went to the cash & carry places to get stock, and were not getting home until 8.30 sometimes 9pm. By this time we had a car each and the money was reasonably good, the difference in JBR's and this, there was no comparison. But then the V.A.T. lady caught up with us and she virtually crucified us, we tried all the tricks in the book but she won in the end. The custom had dropped off around the same time, and it was getting to be a struggle, Marie and I had cut our hours to help. Eventually, I said to Tommy, we've got two alternatives here, either you go and get a job or I go on early retirement. There was no chance of Tommy getting out of that shop, so I retired in 1988. We left it to Tommy to carry on working the shop.

In 1983 Tommy paid for us to go to Majorca, the first week we went to Alcudia with John Duggan, Jim Monaghan, Jimmy Abbott and Ronnie Hawkins. For the second week we went to Calla Mayor with Tommy, Bev and the two kids. Tommy came up in a hire car and took us down to where he was staying, it was different to the first week and we enjoyed it. One day we had a trip on the bus to Magaluf and the window was open, now I was losing my hair rapidly and with the window open it was blowing over to one side. Well Tracey thought it was hilarious and she had everyone on the bus looking at me, to say I was embarrassed is an understatement.

Another time we went to Magaluf with the Echo so most of them were from Liverpool, we arrived about 4 – 5 in the morning and right away we were disappointed, the view was a load of bins. The following day we got another room, but the weather was rubbish, it rained for most of the holiday. I would not recommend Magaluf to anybody, it didn't impress either of us.

A round 1986 I joined the Litherland Male Voice Choir in the tenor section, I was really enjoying myself singing with these men, some excellent singers. They sang at our John & Vivien's wedding at St Philips Church, Litherland, I was quite proud to be in the choir.

I later joined the Aughton Male Voice Choir with Brian Blackshaw who was also in the Litherland Choir. Between the two choirs I sang in some notable venues, such as, Cardiff Arms Park (Welsh International Rugby Ground) with the world choir, 8,000 voices, the star of the show was Shirley Bassey. Other venues were The Festival Hall – Llangollen, Free Trade Hall – Manchester, Preston Guildhall, The Liverpool Philharmonic Hall 3 times.

Jubilee Drive had 4 apple trees and a pear tree in the back garden, it was a nice garden. After 7yrs there our Anne told us there was a house in Denise Road being repossessed, we put in an offer of £14,000 for it and it was accepted. We sold Jubilee for a reasonable price and eventually moved up to 1 Denise Road. Although the house was only 7yrs old the house needed a lot of work doing on it, the back was a complete mess. The grass had overgrown over everything, including carpets and children's toys, someone had come in and taken the paving stones away. There was a plain brick wall built right across the chimney breast in the living room, it was hideous. Our Tommy came in one Saturday morning and between us it was knocked down and all the bricks were put outside. Marie got Anne's kids to work on them and clean them up so we could use them again. We did use them again we got a bricklayer to build a front garden wall and I made double gates with fences to go with it. The move to Fazakerley was good because we were only 100yds from our Anne. Later on John had moved to Edna Avenue which was about half a mile away. We'd been in the house about a year or so, when we decided we would like an extension on the back. We got a couple of estimates but we decided on a price Joe had given us, he was a friend of Doreen's, Marie's friend from their childhood. I did quite a lot of the work myself to keep the price down, the extra room was originally going to be a bedroom but has never been used as one, I use it now, for my paintings.

My mother was finding it hard to look after herself in Ripon Street, so with her permission we managed to get her into sheltered accommodation in Park Street, Bootle. It was a lovely flat with all mod cons and a nice view outside. But she kept falling over, unless you can look after yourself reasonably well the people who run the places don't want to know. So it was a case of where do we go from here. We found a Residential Home in the Orrell district and got her in there, it was run by a Mr Nevin and it was expensive. Her age was catching up with her now, and she was having trouble with her legs. She went into Fazakerley Hospital for treatment and when she was due out, we managed to get a room at Ennerdale Nursing in the hospital grounds. She was only there a week when we got a call to say she had passed away. Bobby and Anne had been into see her an hour before, I think she lost the will to live. She was cremated and her ashes were scattered on Plot 25 were we believe my dad's ashes are at the crematorium at Anfield.

The Litherland Choir finished up in the end, the numbers dropped down from 70 (before my time) down to around a dozen or so, they were either dying off or couldn't get there, so it disbanded. The Aughton is still going but I am no longer a member, it's a long story so I'll just say "It was a matter of principle" and leave it at that.

A little story before I finish with Choirs. The organiser of the "World Choir" told all the choirs who took part in Cardiff that the next one would be in Georgia (Atlanta City) with Ray Charles as the star. We all started to pay on a weekly basis, Marie had decided she was going so we were paying for two, we'd got up to £340. Between us. It turned out, we had all been conned and we did not get the money back. I believe the C.I.D and Interpol were looking into it, but to no avail. Win some, lose some!

Over the years we've made a lot of good friends, through John Duggan we got to know, Jimmy Monoghan, Jim Abbott and both their wives Eileen and Rita. Ronnie Hawkins and Maisy, Arthur Haig and Lily his wife. We had some good holidays with them all, not only in this country but abroad, six of those I've mentioned are now dead.

A nother group were Marie's friends from her childhood days, Doreen and her husband Frank and Jean and her husband, Marie and her husband Bill, and Anne and Derek. Doreen's husband Frank had a large family, and we got to know them through the holidays we have had down on the South Coast. We went abroad with Doreen and Frank a couple of times and really enjoyed it.

I have made a lot of friends through the Choirs and the Art classes, Brian Blackshaw and Harold Meakin are good friends from Litherland MVC , Brian encouraged me to join the art classes.

Since I'd retired I got back into art which I'd always been keen on, I joined the Orrell Art Centre, I met Ray Ashcroft who was the art centre teacher. Ray later introduced me to the Aintree Artists, who accepted me as a member, which meant I could display my paintings for sale at various times of the year. Ray also encouraged me to join his class at the Knowsley Village Hall with certificates at the end of the course. Ray was replaced by Tony Harrison, which he wasn't happy about, Ray died about 18 months after, with cancer and we all missed him. I carried on learning for 3 years and obtained my certificates, we were presented with them at St. Georges Hall.

If someone had told me I would have a heart attack, I probably would have laughed at them, but that's exactly what happened in February 1995. We had gone to the Strand shopping centre for shopping, I started to feel funny, pains in my chest and sweating, I knew it wasn't right and told Marie we should go home. We made for the car and somehow we managed to get to the Copplehouse Medical Centre. They called an ambulance and got me to Fazakerley right away, after a series of tests I was put on a ward. They said I'd be in about a week, but I had a couple of Angina attacks, so they transferred me to Broadgreen Hospital where they done an Angiogram. This confirmed it was a heart attack, after they organised my medication they let me go home. Since then I've been in hospital twice with angina, I hope that's the last time I'll be in, the pills are for life I suppose.

It's a far cry to-day from our days in Gorsey Lane , when we were both young and reasonably fit. Me with my heart problem and arthritis and Marie with arthritis, restless leg, and other things, she is on medication for, she now uses a walking stick. We are both lucky, because our family are all very good to us both. We have been abroad on holiday with Tommy, Bobby, Anne and John over the years. Now our grandchildren have got children and probably a few more before we go.

T he year I had my heart attack we went to Florida with Anne, Richie, Warren, Estella and Richard, it was a long journey but it wasn't bad because there were films shown all the time. It was a nine hour flight, we landed in Maine, probably to refuel , then we went on to Kissimmee in Florida. We picked a vehicle up and Richie got in the driving seat and after some instructions we set off for the keys. After going around in circles for some time we eventually got to the Villa. The accommodation was brilliant, it had to be seen to believe it. We went to most of the theme parks each day and enjoyed them. It was well organised, the only let down was the weather it rained most of the time and for Florida it was not warm. Overall we all enjoyed the experience, we went to various places for a meal in the evening, and mostly they were very good. One day we wanted petrol and ended up in Orange County with black everywhere, we got out pretty quick. We seen the New Year 1996 in while we were there and unlike Liverpool there wasn't a soul outside, not what we expected.

We enjoyed our Paul's visits, however he was suffering with a variety of things, he was told he had leukaemia, and later on got lumps under his arm, his breathing wasn't good either. Our Paul was a very quiet, private person and you never heard him complain about his illness. Eventually he went into hospital in July 2012, he was on oxygen and morphine for the pain he had in his chest. They done various tests, then told him he had cancer in his lungs and there was nothing they could do for him. It was a terrible shock to us all, when he died on the second of August he was 59yrs. He was a beautiful person inside and out, and we all miss him so much.

My own health is going downwards, I have developed arthritis in my legs. Marie stays in bed a lot because she doesn't sleep much of a night. I'm head cook and bottle washer, sometimes it's tough but we manage to get by, we get a lot of help off Anne and her family. John & Viv are living in Maghull now and have been down to help us. Bobby takes me to the P.O. and for shopping, I miss my car a lot, but beggars can't be choosers, I have to rely on the family. At the time of writing this it is 2012 and both our healths have deteriated. Marie had a serious of mini strokes approx. 6 years ago and I am her carer. Our Anne has been great and has been a big help to me, I don't think I could have managed without her. Tommy comes on Tuesdays and Fridays and stays the night, this is because Marie has had a few falls and I can't lift her sometimes. Since I've been looking after Marie I've had to stop going to the art classes, I do miss everyone they were all good people. I paint at home and still love it.

One time I went in hospital it was with chest pains and we thought it was angina, but after a load of tests they said it was a stone, apparently I had two. They performed a minor operation and took one out with a camera. The other one is still there and the doctor said in view of my age it would be better left, but they would keep an eye on it, that was 5yrs ago and I've been back once since then. Another time I went into hospital was because I was jaundiced, I had an operation on my stomach they put stents in my gall bladder. That was in 2011, unfortunately they said they had found something sinister. However we've been to see Claire Byrne at the hospital several times since then and thank god I've been fine.

Our grandson Lee has had a daughter and she is a lovely little girl, john and viv bring her down as often as they can. Our other grandson Richard is also expecting a baby son with his wife Janine in October. Our Warren and his wife Cathy have three children Eva, Jake & Libby (Warren delivered her in the bathroom). Our Stella is married to mike and has Niamh and Aaron. Our Ryan is with Kerry and has three girls Ellie , Zoe & Emily. Our Mark has 2 boys Austin and Harrison. Our Tracy is married to Matt and has 3 boys Thomas, and the twins Ben and Sam. Our Michelle has 2 girls Amy and Sophie. Our Mandy has Olivia. They are all beautiful.

A t the time of writing this it's January 2013. I have an appointment in March to see Claire Byrne at the hospital. The last time I was in hospital, the family converted the house, so we are now on the flat, sleeping downstairs, it's much better for us.

Monday 29/4/2013.

I (John) called into dad's house to see them, dad was lying on the couch not looking good, he said he had a bad bleed. I rang the doctors, they came out and arranged for an ambulance to take him to the hospital. On arrival at the hospital they took dad up for a scan (camera) to see where the bleed was coming from. Then the doctors came and told us they couldn't find where the bleed was coming from and that dad didn't have long to live, they actually said he had about 5mins.Viv was with mum and she brought her to the hospital, she was shocked when she seen him. All the family were called and we said goodbye to him and told him how much we loved him. He fought like you wouldn't believe and pulled through the night. They took the tube out of his throat and he started breathing on his own. That night he got put on a ward our mum sat next to him, for about 1 and half weeks, 24/7 never went home at all, she washed and eat there and never left his side, mum slept in her wheelchair some nights. She was unbelievable, considering her age 84 and all her problems, but that was mum, he was her fella and she was going nowhere while he was in there. After us asking for the tests to be done again, they still told us there was nothing they could do. They told him if he wanted to he could go home and be made comfortable. They arranged a hospital bed to be delivered to the house and various other things, and for the nurses to come in on a regular basis. Nine people in our family had come down with a bug from that shit hole of a hospital. The day dad was told he could come home, mum came down with the bug and was vomiting, she never really got over it. Before mum got really sick, she had picked up a bit, Viv took her to get her hair done, dad said he would pay. She got her hair done and called past my house to pick me up, she looked lovely, as always, it made her feel a little bit better. The next day our Anne was showering her, she was fine they were having a laugh about different things, when she went to get out she started to be sick. We put her to bed, then called the doctor out, she said it was probably a stroke but mum wouldn't go into hospital for any checks. It was 6 weeks and 3 days after dad had come out of hospital. Mum also had a bad chest infection and a water infection. The day before mum took a turn, dad had taken a bad turn with his blood levels. He didn't know what to do to go in and get a blood transfusion or not, then the nurse explained things to him and he decided not to go back to hospital. In mums final days she couldn't communicate with us, but she could hear what was going on, and often smiled when something was said. While she was sick if any of the great grandchildren came in she would lighten up, it was amazing, she loved them all so much. Having those last couple of special days with her is something we will all treasure for the rest of our lives. Mum was our Angel, and the heart of our family and the thought of not having her with us anymore was unthinkable. Her smile, her laugh, her touch, her kisses and hugs are all something we thought we would have forever, she was so special in every way. We were all with mum when she passed away, at 9.45am on 30 May 2013, hopefully she passed without any pain.

Mum and Dad were like a double act, sometimes Mum would say to me (Anne) at least we give you a good laugh when you come in, and they did. They would say don't know what the neighbours must think, when we're having a laugh together early hours in the morning.

After mum's funeral, Estella took dad to her house in Holyhead for the weekend. Me (john) and viv, jemma and lee got a chalet in a camp near to Estella's house. Anne, Richie and Ellie stayed in the Travelodge. Dad said he wanted to take us all for a meal , you should have seen the meal he had it was huge, it was a lovely night and unforgettable, dad enjoyed paying for everyone. On the Friday we all went to our chalet and had a meal on the balcony, it was magical dad enjoyed it so much, we all did.

O n Saturday Anne's boys and their families came to Wales and we all, took dad to the beach in Trearddur Bay, he sat and eat ice cream next to me (john) while I done a drawing of the view in front of us. That will always be something I won't forget ever. Estella had a barby in her house that night and dad really enjoyed it. The next morning we went to Niamh's Communion, dad said she was his little queen, he cried that day because he said mum would have loved to have been there (she was). Dad stayed with us on the last night in Wales, we brought him home the next day. He wanted to go to Anne's house and stay there, he didn't want to go back to his house. I called in every day to see him, and so did our Tommy and Bobby, gradually he was getting a bit worse. On father's day we went and took him some new tracksuit bottoms and a card. Tommy, Bev and Bobby called round to see dad and brought his presents and cards. He sat outside in Anne's garden and had something to eat, he had his children, grandchildren and great grandchildren with him, he was great that day. But the next day he wanted to get into bed and sadly, he did not get out again. He got a bad water infection and went down from there, he stopped eating and drinking. A few days later on 25th June at 6am my hero was gone, while holding my hand. Anne and Estella had sat with him and talked and played music to him, they said that is something that they will treasure for the rest of their lives.

Even though the district nurses said dad was ok, Anne said she knew something was happening and called the family, We were all there when dad passed away peacefully. We will never forget his caring, loving ways, he was as Our John said our Hero, and we will miss him forever.

Mum and Dad left us with so many beautiful memories, Christmas time was magical it was like a grotto in the house. Holidays were made so special no matter where we went, family time meant everything to them. All these memories will stay in our hearts forever.

Nothing can prepare you for what you go through when you lose your parents, it's an emotion that is hard to describe, part of you dies with them and you think how do I go on now. When we lost them our lives changed forever, but we know they are happy with Our Paul and all their family that has gone before them.

**Nite Nite God Bless Mum (Our Angel) Dad (Our Hero)** ome ino
