We moved into Elfrida Crescent in 1939 and lived there until my 14th Birthday in 1952.
The Winter of 1947 was one of the coldest in living memory and resulted in considerable falls of snow. This was a wonderful time for us kids. However, because there was a grave shortage of coal the house was always cold. Although by this time the war had been over for almost 2 years the country was subject to more severe rationing than that which we had suffered during the war. The government’s policy at this time was “Export or die” and as a result coal was very strictly rationed so that it could go to the manufacturing industries, hence very limited supplies to households.
From time to time the electricity supply would be cut off and then we would produce our own, admittedly on a very small scale and limited to the living room. This was achieved by using a bicycle dynamo.The bicycle stood on its saddle and handlebars and someone would turn the pedals and generate our supply. This was a job which was popular because generating the power kept one warm. The light from the bicycle lamp was not powerful, however, it was directed towards the fireplace where in the evening we tended to congregate and someone, often Dad, would read a story. Obviously no electricity therefore no radio to listen to and it wouldn’t be until around 1957 before the parents rented their first television set.
On the opposite corner to us, but in Cowden Street, lived the Sayers. They did have a Television Set and I recall that on one occasion we were invited in to their lounge to watch the annual Boat Race between Oxford and Cambridge Universities. Their television was a pre-war set with a tiny screen and it was necessary to sit in pitch darkness in order to see the pictures. At this time, immediately after the war, the Sayers still had their “black out” material up at the windows which proved to be perfect.
The house was very cold and at bedtime, since there was no heating in the bedrooms, one tried to keep as warm as possible under the blankets. I often tried to achieve this by keeping on my daytime clothes in lieu of pyjamas, however, if Dad came checking I was forced to climb into my pyjamas and shiver in bed. Eventually one fell asleep and by the following morning the heat from one’s body had produced a beautifully warm environment under the bedclothes. However, the temperature of the bedroom had fallen overnight and we then had the spectacle of our breath condensing in the cold air and ice on the inside of the window panes. One dressed under the bedclothes as the alternative was not at all comfortable because we had no carpet or rug, therefore, we had to stand on the freezing cold linoleum.
There were no washing facilities upstairs, therefore, washing in the mornings was done at the kitchen sink and tended to be perfunctory, we only had one toothbrush and it was used by all of us. There was a bathroom, which was located immediately behind the house entry door. In those days, in households such as ours, having a bath was a luxury and this happened only once a week. The bath was about the same length as the room and the space between the door and the bath was no more than a couple of feet. The children bathed one after another and used the same bath water. Hanging on the wooden garden fence between our back garden and the Bicknell’s was a zinc bath and this was used from time to time but not, as I recall during that winter.
The Box room, which could only be accessed through the rear bedroom, was a small storage room. It contained, among other things Dad’s spare uniform, a box of tiles and many other interesting items such as an accumulator which had been used by an old radio. It tended to be a play room for Pat, Ken and George, particularly on a Sunday when peace and quiet was expected by the adults in the living room, particularly when Dad was at home. In a corner above the entry to the Box room was a connection, through a trapdoor, to the Bicknell’s attic. By climbing onto the door handle it was possible to haul oneself up into this space, however, on one fateful occasion Pat put her foot through the Bicknell’s ceiling. I don’t recall the outcome of this event, but it was unlikely that we would have been able to repeat it.
When the wall was down between the bedrooms at the front of the house, Ron used to frighten Pat, George and Ken by throwing shadows on the ceiling with the use of a torch.
One year my Birthday was celebrated, partially, in the bomb shelter during an air raid. A bomb which dropped on Randlesdown Road shook the ground at the other end of Cowden Street and resulted in my birthday spread, awaiting enjoyment in the living room, being covered in soot as we discovered when the all clear sounded and we were able to return to the house. It was probably this bomb that caused the damage to the wall between the two front bedrooms.
The very large bomb site at Randlesdown Road was an extremely dangerous place, however, we kids would use it like a playground. Because there was so much bomb damage around at that time it was often a very long time before these sites were made safe. I have memories of a house from which a wall had been completely demolished, with a staircase with parts of the upper room on it.
Another very familiar bomb site was at the other end of Randlesdown Road, in a large fenced playing field, which had a barrage balloon tethered to the ground but flying high above in order to trap enemy airplanes.
The bomb site opposite this was next to Larcombe’s the baker. Chief memories of there were on Good Friday buying Hot Cross Buns, a real treat.
Sometimes, after an Air Raid, we would walk around the streets collecting shrapnel in a bucket. Unfortunately, on one occasion Ken mistook a piece for chocolate (it looks nothing like chocolate, however, as chocolate was a luxury item we very rarely saw, the mistake was made) and he swallowed it, apparently without trying to chew it. Shrapnel which was metal from shells had very jagged edges, therefore, very dangerous to swallow and certainly not digestible. Mum took Ken to the Children’s Hospital at Lower Sydenham and there he was prescribed cotton wool sandwiches in an endeavour to protect the stomach and the hope that he would pass it out through his bowel. That must have been the successful outcome because he never needed an operation.
Randlesdown Road was connected to Firhill Road via Playgreen Way and we would walk along there in order to get to the London Transport playing field in Firhill Road where Dad would play Bowls. Sometimes when Dad practiced there he let me go with him and I was allowed to play a few “ends”. When there was a match played there, Mum and Pat, Ken and George would accompany Dad. Mum and other wives would prepare tea and sandwiches for the two teams. We children, I believe these would from time to time include Joyce, Brenda and Brian of Uncle Len’s family. and other players' children, would play outside, running around the wooden pavilion. The earth was shale and gravel and we would become absolutely filthy. At the end of the evening we would walk home in an extremely dirty state and very tired.
At other times, for away games, we would take a tram to New Cross and from there we would travel by a specially hired bus, usually to “Eden Park”, the headquarters of London Transport’s Sport’s Ground, near Beckenham. This was a much cleaner location with plenty of grass, but otherwise we children would be rushing around as always. Scrumping, I seem to recall was one of our activities here because the field, I believe, backed onto private houses and gardens.
Our maternal Grandmother, whose husband, George, my namesake, had left her, moved into the left-hand front bedroom, this was after the dividing wall had been rebuilt. When she wanted to go shopping, one of us, often me, would accompany her. Travelling by tram we would have to walk out into the middle of the main road. The tram tracks ran down the centre of the road. She would give us pocket money, I think tuppence (two pence).
When not reading in the evenings or listening to Children’s Hour with Uncle Mac, a BBC character, we played games, usually on a competitive basis, such as table tennis. With a limited number of balls, should one get out of shape, heat had to be applied to draw out dents. We would also play with the pin ball table or games of cards. Often our games, between the children, relied heavily on the paper and pencils supplied by Auntie Lil, and tended to be noughts and crosses or who could find the largest number of names beginning with a given letter. Auntie Lil was a secretary, I believe, at a business called “Brand’s” and besides supplying us with the paper and pencils, she would provide the most wonderful fish and meat pastes and, possibly other goodies made by her employer.
During the war, in an air raid, Auntie Lill's right arm was very severely burnt in the fireplace at her home. She underwent plastic surgery performed, I believe, by Archibald McIndoe at Queen Victoria Hospital, East Grinstead. Unfortunately, she lost the use of that arm and had to learn to perform all activities with her left hand. Both Ken and I decided to learn to do everything using both left and right hands. These activities included writing long hand, batting and bowling. We never became as proficient as we would have liked, however George, in 2017, when writing this, still practices writing.
During the day, largely when Dad was at work, the games tended to be rather more physical, for example with Pat, George and Ken beneath the table Ron on top of it would try to catch us without, of course, getting off the table. Dad did shift work driving trams out of New Cross depot. Ron, being rather older, had friends with whom he would play and visit, therefore during the day times he wouldn't be in the house.
The living room had 2 windows, one a large one with a metal frame, was on the wall parallel with Elfrida Crescent. We kids would stand on the internal wooden sill and jump from it on to a sprung sofa. All that leaping did no good to the springs, therefore it was uncomfortable to sit on.
When Dad was not at home, Ken and George would play football, with a tennis ball, across the width of the living room. At other times, as previously mentioned, playing in the back bedroom and particularly in the Box Room.
In good weather in the summer we would play hide and seek in the back garden between the runner beans. Ken and George would take every possible opportunity to play cricket in the front garden, where notches on the Poplar tree acted as bails. The pitch, which stretched between the tree and the garden path, was totally lacking grass and so the stones, which comprised most of the pitch produced very awkward bounces for our tennis ball.
At other times we played various games in the street with neighbourhood children. These games would include hide and seek and, naturally, cricket. There were other games, however time has seemed to erase them from memory.
As mentioned, Vic was born on 8th May 1945, and on this date or a little later the neighbourhood adults decided to celebrate the victory by building a very large fire in the road. They used wood from bomb sites and wherever it and anything else could be found to burn. The fire was so hot that it melted the tarmac. The result was visible for a long time thereafter.
A sailor member of the Tamplin family climbed a stink pole or sewage ventilation pipe to hang an effigy of Hitler.
Ken did like to experiment on his bicycle, which led on one occasion to him losing his front teeth, when he learnt that using his foot between the spokes to brake the momentum on a bicycle or possibly a tricycle was not an ideal method.
Brakes had a fascination for Ken as he demonstrated by releasing the brake of the milk float in Cowden Street. I think it did not roll far and I don’t recall any damage.
From time to time we would play with Barry Reynolds in his garden, where there were a very large number of green glass stoppers.
At Beckenham Hill Railway Station, I stood on an enamel sign leaning over some iron pailings to spot the train number of a famous steam train, The Silver Arrow, which was passing along the track. Unfortunately the clamps holding the hoarding slipped and my chest was penetrated by a pailing. Blood spirted out soaking my blue blouse. I had to walk home and when Mum saw me she was very disturbed. She walked me to the Children’s Hospital at Sydenham for the injury to be cleaned and stitched.
By climbing onto the flat roof of the school at Elfrida Crescent we could reach the school bell chain and thus ring the bell from the roof. This was on the roof of the Junior Boys school. The school comprised three sections. In the same complex, but reached by a separate path down a hill was the Primary Mixed Pupil School. When one reached the age to graduate to the Juniors, the school was segregated into two separate sections of Girls and Boys. When a pupil in, probably the Primary School I remember receiving a packet of Nastertium Seeds from the “Flower Lovers League”. They were planted along the wooden fence in the back garden and flowered abundantly, however I recall that they were infested with black fly.
Vic, named for the victory in Europe, was the only one of the children born there. But another very important happening took place on the same day, the cat gave birth to kittens in the coal “cellar”.
Ken was born whilst we lived there but Mum and Ron, Pat and George were evacuated to Hastings when she was pregnant with Ken and he was born there on the 5th February 1940.
Pat, George and Ken all passed their 11+ examinations and, therefore, qualified for Grammar Schools. In 1946 Pat won a place at Prendergast School in Catford, however, the parents could not afford to buy her uniform and she finished up in Catford Secondary School in Hazeltine Road. When, in 1949, George won a place at Brockley County Grammar School somehow the parents were able to afford to buy the uniform, special sports wear, etc. Unfortunately Pat missed out which smacked of discrimination. Later Ken also won a place at Brockley County Grammar School and once again all the necessary clothing was bought. One of the Scott’s sons also went to Brockley County Grammar School. The school’s headmaster was Dr Sinclair, who had a large clubbed foot.
At the age of 18 or 19 or possibly a little later, Ron served in the Royal Electrical and Mechanical Engineers (REME) first at Blandford in Dorset where he would have done his basic training, before being posted to Egypt where he worked on vehicle recovery in the desert.
Home