Tag: Torquay

Fire Watching & Guard Duty

Reading Albert’s letter, 82 years after it was written, I reflect on all that has physically changed in this land since then. The farm buildings he describes as “dilapidated”, are now transformed into a ‘shoot’ venue for the rich and privileged. The countryside he walked through to the east of Torquay is countryside no more, smothered by post-war development. And whilst I have not investigated changes to Corhampton and the Meon Valley, I have no doubt that housing estates and fast roads abound in those places where my grandparents cycled on summer days.

The term ‘firewatching’ had a different conotation to my grandparents and their son, than our image of cosy camp-side evenings. Air Raid Wardens and volunteers kept a nightly watch for fires instigated by incendary bombs or the aftermath of high explosives. Whilst Southampton’s Blitz had passed, enemy bombings still occurred in 1942. In the course of researching this letter I discovered that my old secondary school was a casualty of bombing shortly after Albert wrote his letter.

Sunday June 14, St James’s Hotel RAF Torquay, South Devon

Dear All, Today has not been a very good one for me, as I have been a guard and not able to go out far.  This guard business seems to be quite a great feature of the Torquay RAF and I can’t say that I think much of it.

 I was glad to receive your letter on Friday and interested to read of the fire watching. I am afraid that my midweek letter was a trifle late in writing, but you have no doubt received it and the parcel by now.  I have not yet seen about coupons but two of us are going to see what can be done. The clothes shops in Torquay seem to be well-stocked.  I was interested to read of your cycle trips especially the one to Corhampton and the Meon Valley, and back along the Upham road by St Clair’s Farm and Belmore.  It is a very pleasant road especially where it comes to Stephen’s Castle Down, and it is actually rather surprising that we have not been long it more often.  I believe that we once went along a short part of it, or crossed it, when we came with Ron from Beacon Hill  – the time I nearly ran over a rabbit. That road comes into the Upham one by St Clair’s Farm, which is a very dilapidated looking set of buildings.

 We have had some rain this afternoon, following a really perfect morning. At the moment (7.0) the sky is overcast and I should not be surprised to see some more rain, though what we had was of a thundery nature. The sky and sea were a beautiful blue in the morning and the view from my bedroom window extremely good.

 I have taken to washing again. 

We are issued, for the time we are here, with a white shirt affair – one of those short sort of woolly ones, and as we have only one, it has to be washed in the weekend.  It is our normal daytime dress, and a lot cooler marching about in than the blue shirt, collar and tie. For some obscure reason they must not be worn in the streets after working hours, but as compensation we are allowed (except on Sundays) to discard the tunic. So this afternoon I washed my shirt and it is now hanging on a coat hanger, in the window, which has been with me since Yatesbury. Incidentally, I still have my bicycle pump quite safe and sound.

 I have managed to hear a lot of radio music lately. There is a room downstairs called the “recreation room” (goodness knows why).  It must originally have been the lounge of the hotel and is now used for lectures during the day and as a dormitory for the guards and fire watchers by night. One can often have the wireless to some thing quite good. I heard the Enigma Variations during the week, and today listened to the Sunday Afternoon Concert. Of course I do not always want to stop in, as there are plenty of nice parks and greens where one can go in the evening to write letters or read. There are some very nice gardens by the road between the harbour and the station, and at the station end are parks and bowling greens and so forth. Round the coast towards Babbacombe there is a green on top of the cliffs overlooking the sea and with a good view in three directions. It is quite near here and a pleasant resort for an evening’s relaxation. One can also hire rowing and sailing boats and that is something I might try my hand at one day. I should rather like to learn to manipulate a sailing boat – perhaps rowing would involve too much effort to be wholly enjoyable.

 Another good walk I found was out towards the most easterly point of Torquay, Hope’s Nose, from which one should secure a very fine view on a clear day with visability as far as Portland, perhaps even the Island.  I did not get as far as Hope’s Nose, though I mean to do so one day, but I got to one of the highest bits of the town and had quite a good look around, though the view was a bit restricted due to trees, houses and other hills.  The eastern parts are not at all the town-like, and there are fields, woods and copses there,  just as if it were miles from any town. I had a very nice walk and went through what are called Lincomb Gardens, though they are really woods on a very steep hillside with paths zig-zagging up and down, somewhat after the fashion of those woods we went through at Fowey.  As I came down a path between some young trees I passed blackbird setting up a great din. Stopping to see what the noise was about I found that the cause of the disturbance was a tawny owl in the darker parts of the tree. The blackbird was keeping a good distance, and the noise appeared to leave the owl quite unmoved.

By the way – remember me to Mrs Churchill, and to anyone else too, love from Albert.

P.S. Plenty of buddlea globosa out now – how’s ours.

Oh yes, a lot has changed in the world out there. But I read this letter in much the same way as my grandmother, my grandfather, read this letter. All of us glad to hear from Albert. No matter that the content is everyday, lacking drama or significant news. We recognise the commonplace that links us.

The pleasures of an evening walk, the sight of a blackbird and an unfuffled owl in a tree – these are experiences that can still bring joy. The sweep and swell of The Enigma Variations can still move us. Waves unceasingly lap the shore and the sea still sparkles. We still share the same sky.

Busy Days, no Time to Write…

‘Meadfoot Sands’, Torquay.

My Uncle Albert apologises for not having written to his parents for four days, as he has been busy settling in to his new location and duties in Torquay. Four days really is nothing, Albert, compared to the two years that I have allowed to lapse between posts.

What can I give you, dear reader, as an excuse? Nothing that bears scrutiny.. busy times. So read on, transport yourself back to 1942 and read about Albert, trainee navigator, and the start of his south-westerly adventures.

Thursday June 11

Dear All,

I have suddenly realised that it is Thursday, and my last letter was written on Sunday, so I had better hurry and get something done. I have also a parcel to be made up – socks and handkerchiefs  and a vest, but am held up temporarily for lack of wrapping materials. Also lack of time for packing it up. I have also tied up Jean’s pen in the ‘Scribe’ box but now find that it is too narrow of a stamp, and must see what I can do about it. Your parcel arrived safely, though the paper was beginning to burst in places. I seem to have temporarily mislaid your letter, though there are lockers here, they are very tiny things and not a patch on the ones at Yatesbury, so I shall have to recall what points about it I can.

I was interested in your ride to Broughton. I certainly should not have thought of going there so late in the day, but you seemed to do it in very fair time, and getting to Portswood before dark was good and certainly enabled you to take full advantage of the lovely evenings we get now. I believe we visited them last year and saw how the tomatoes were progressing – to little purpose as it turned out. I hope the weather this autumn will be better than last.

Durley Church.

I am glad you went along the road I recommended by Durley Church to Horton Heath, though it is so long since I have been along there that the old (?) cottage escapes my memory, though I remember the piggeries (not now used) and of course the little cottage with the orchard just at Horton Heath.

I had better mention one or two things about what we do here. Firstly the hours – they are long, from 7.30 to 6, with a dinner hour that is frequently 45 minutes, and the morning and afternoon respectively breaks of 20 and 15 minutes, but we are lucky to get anything at all, as the time taken up in marching between classes usually comes into the break, and not all the classes stoop in time. The classes are mainly maths, signals (morse and lamp signalling), armaments (machine guns), hygiene and law, and drill, P.T., and organised games. The maths is very elementary, and only continues for a fortnight, when there is a test and then the periods are devoted to navigation. Whilst on that subject, it would probably be best for me to have a hard pencil, as all the navigation is by drawing. I believe I have a 4H unused or nearly, in my Venus pencil box, so could you send that and a good rubber, perhaps you could get one of those yellow “gum erasers” at Wiseman’s or somewhere similar, and send them in the next parcel – anywhen in the next fortnight will do for that. I think that navigation will prove very interesting.

An epidiascope is, ‘An optical projector that gives images of both transparent and opaque objects.’

Another class which is very important is aircraft recognition. I do not know a lot about that yet, but I expect to learn in time, the classes are very well done with large silhouettes, talks and epidiascope demonstration. Of course, great stress is laid upon sport. Fortunately there is now swimming and that is what I am going in for in the ‘organised games’ periods.

Afternoon 3.00pm: We are now on one of these said ‘games’ periods. I have been swimming but as the water is on the cold side, and a good wind is blowing up, it is quite rough and I did not stop long, though it was good fun in there. It is now even rougher and the waves are breaking over the lower part of the ramp down from the sea wall and on which we are sitting. The waves hit the wall with a terrific thud, sending the spray high into the air, to spatter down on the concrete. The place we are at is called Meadfoot sands. I forget whether you have a map of Torquay at home, but I believe there is a town plan in one of our guidebooks.

On Monday I bought a 1” map of ‘Torquay’ – on cloth for 2/6. They had quite a pile of them in Smiths’, quite in the open, so I don’t know if they are old stock or if the O.S. have printed some since war. The map goes from Teignmouth & Dartmeet (North) round the coast past Start Point to Bigbury-on-Sea, which I have heard is a very nice place. We do plenty of marching about from class to class, and it is very nice as there is always something interesting to see, especially out in the bay. This morning was lovely and clear, and the countryside over towards Paignton looked very lovely.

At the moment the sun is obscured (in the words of Burrough’s Wellcome exposure book) by “light cloud or slight mist” and is not beaming down with full heat. It is also a trifle hazy, but I can see some ship, possibly minesweepers, out to sea, each one with a balloon. There are also some balloons at Brixham, but I cannot be sure if they are in the town or on ships in the harbour. I don’t think there is enough for another sheet, so goodbye and love from Albert.

Albert, not one to especially enjoy football, seems happy that swimming is considered ‘Physical training’. In this next short letter, which he writes the next day, he requests his ‘swimming costume’ is sent on, ‘if it is still serviceable’. That makes me wonder what he chose to wear in the sea at Meadfoot Sands!

Friday June 12

Dear All, just a very short note with the parcel of socks and vest and pyjamas. It is grey and windy today and the sea even rougher than yesterday. It is a good job that we did not have our swimming today. Perhaps you could send along with the next parcel my swimming costume if it is still serviceable.

By now you should have received my letter and fountain pen which I decided to send, I thought it would be alright in that way, after all. The weather has changed for the worst I fear: we have had a little rain and even now it is drizzling slightly. I expect it is very misty up on Dartmoor – by the way I want to go up to Haytor one Sunday. I see that the Tor bus still runs from Newton Abbott. I think that had better do or I shall not finish packing the parcel, love to all (including Jean) from Albert.

P.S. I have some envelopes like this (the long ones I usually send my letters in) at home in my ‘homework’ cupboard or front room drawer – would you send them with the next lot of stuff?

And a P.S. from me, I shall not leave such a long gap between this post and the next.

On the English Riveria

‘It appears to be rather a miserable place.’

In this next letter Albert tells us of his journey to Torquay, via places familiar to him from his time in RAF Calne.

Albert is sad to leave London and Joyce in particular, who he spent a pleasant evening with before saying goodbye to the capital city. I assume it was Jocye who sewed on Albert’s ‘sparks’ badges – given upon qualification as a Radio Operator.

Albert will continue his initial training at RAF Torquay, which was based at the St James’s Hotel. In spite of its seafront location, Albert appears unimpressed by the accomodation, and even less impressed by the keeness of his colleagues to follow orders!

Sunday June 7, St James’s Hotel RAF Torquay, South Devon

Dear All, here I am in Torquay and I had better say at once that as far as the R.A.F. goes it appears to be rather a miserable place. The food and accommodation are both good it is true, but the discipline is going to annoy me ‘ere long, and everybody seems frightfully keen and enthusiastic about it all.

Friday afternoon we changed our billet from Hall Road to another block of flats in Regents Park Road.

I was off to Camden Town by 6pm and as the bus runs along there I did not have the usual walk there and back. I had a good evening at Joyce’s with a nice salad for supper and left at 9.30, after having listened to the gramophone and had my ‘sparks’ sewn on my second tunic.

An example of a ‘Sparks’ badge

That was the best evening in London and I enjoyed it very much and was sorry to say goodbye, not only to my good friends there, but also to the tree-lined streets, the parks with their lovely gardens (I went into Queen Mary’s Garden – Regents Park on one evening) and even the buses and tubes, and of course the concerts and shows and new films.

Contrary to expectations, we did not leave early on Saturday morning and I had the pleasure of remaining in bed until about 9, after which I had a bath and was able to go for a short walk before our early dinner at 10. We had a little more time off and then, very hot, loaded up with all our pack and kit, & left by coach to Paddington.

As we were sitting down waiting for the coach, an ‘Express’ milk cart came along and a good many of us bought a bottle. I don’t mind a bit of milk nowadays and was pleased to drink some. Of course there was the usual waiting about attended by rather more discomfort than usual due to the heat. This June is certainly flaming.

The train left Paddington at 1.30 and our ‘party’ had reserved coaches, with plenty of room as there were only 5 in our compartment. The route was through Reading and along a piece of line new to me, Newbury, Hungerford, Savernake, Patney, Castle Cary, Taunton, Tiverton and Exeter. Just before Savernake I saw the road by the canal where I had that puncture on the way back from Inkpen. We passed Froxfield with its almshouses, Great Bedwyn and the church and went through Pursey, all of which I knew.

I was pleased to see that part of the world again, and enjoyed looking out of the window, especially as the heat in the carriage was intense.

From Exeter I was once again on familiar ground, and was delighted to see the outline of the cathedral the same as ever, and Dawlish with its many coves and cliffs, and Teignmouth.

We stopped at Teignmouth, and amongst the people on the platform I saw, first, David and then Uncle Jim and Auntie Olive. Naturally I dashed out and hailed them and they invited me there for the day. I shall endeavour to go soon, but as the buses do not start running until afternoon, will probably have dinner first. It is now 12, so I think I will definitely leave it later.

Continuing with the journey (though that is practically finished) we went via Newton Abbott (naturally) and along the Torquay branch, along which I have only been once before. The train arrived somewhere around 6 and we were taken to this hotel. I think I shall leave a description of the billet and the RAF for the next letter, as I have not a great deal of time yet, and shall want something to say.

I expect that by now you have received my parcel of socks etc. The laundry seems as if it may be quite effective so I shall perhaps try it for vest and pants, but not socks, as they are not regulation ones. This is being written with my new pen, which works very well, as you will see.

I don’t think there is much else. It is now after dinner and we have still a bit of messing about before we can go out (this is an awful place) and actually the bounds are 5 miles so I shall ignore that for the time being.

I must get those maps at Uncle Jim’s, as there should be some opportunity for walking, though not cycling as I have nowhere to keep a bike and I believe it is not allowed.

So goodbye from my new abode and love to all, from Albert

Alberts ends his letter with , ‘Arrived Teignmouth 4.15 (Posted at Woodland Avenue).‘ So he wasted no time in leaving his new billet (ignoring the fact that he was travelling out of bounds) to spend time with his uncle and aunt and his aunt’s son David.

I was pleased to hear Albert make mention of his socks, a running point of interest in his letters, along with food. No doubt he was concerned about losing his unique socks in the communal laundry; socks lovingly knitted by his Isle of Wight aunties and carefully darned by his mother, when the need arose.