'Evening All,
This is my third attempt to add to my few posts! Each time, just as I have got to the button pressing bit to post a long narrative, I've dropped off line! I live right at the end of a very long Broadband line and when all the kids come home from school and log on, I drop off. Hopefully, I'll get this one away before that happens again.
As I said last time, I will try to keep off the war experiences and write about the period just after in the mid to late 40s.
There was a lot of posts on trains and buses recently. I recall when it was still possible to get a 6d All Day tram ticket which allowed you to roam anywhere on the network. My brother and I would catch the tram at Northover, 54 for Victoria, 52 for Blackfriars or 74 for Victoria via Brockley. We'd change trams in London so that we could catch the one that went under Kingsway subway and do the whole of north London. With just a packet of sandwiches, the day was bliss! Like Splinter, I always stood at the front end of a bus lower saloon on the flywheel cover watching the driver's every move. I remember some of the adverts pasted at the front:
'A note from you
a call from us
the date is fixed no worry or fuss
a Pickford's van, a gentle giant
the work is finished a satisfied client'
Another about tea was '......... while poor Aunt Jane poured out pure rain, but Mother sees we've Co Op teas!'
'Knit with Emu and stop thinking about shrinking' was another.
A good day out was when a gang of us went to the Woolwich Free Ferry. We'd catch the 94 at Grove Park, change to the 75 at Lee Green and then on arrival at Woolwich spend the day toing and froing across the Thames. You could stand and look into the engine room - I remember that my favourite ferry boat was 'Will Crooks' Sometimes we'd wander into the housing estate on the other side of the water, but would beat a hasty retreat - the kids there were too tough for us.
Getting whippies on vehicles was another good game. When the 124 turned round at St Luke's we would jump on the platform and ride round, or at least until the conductor came down from changing the destination blind - no electronic signs then - he'd shout 'Git ah't of it you bleeders!' and aim a swipe with his ticket rack. The United Dairies horse drawn cart used to turn round right at the bottom of Shroffold Road, near Bedivere Road, then old Gangster, the horse, would plod all the way back up right to the 'top, with Mac the milkman dozing on the seat. We could get a good long whippy on that! The South Suburban Dairy float and Grooms bread came in for the same treatment. If we saw any Dagonet Gardens kids on the back we'd shout 'Look be'ind guv'ner!' Old Mac would curse and shout at them throwing doubt on their legitimacy.
Elmstead Woods was good for a day out too. We'd walk 'dahn the Chinnie', (Chinbrook Park), through the big railway arch then up Portland Road to the woods. There we would race around all day playing the 'Shadow' or Robin Hood or something similar. Sometimes we would go by train. We knew there was no ticket collector at Elmstead Woods station so it was a matter of getting through at Grove Park for a buckshee ride. I had a couple of paper rounds with WH Smith in the station so most of the ticket collectors knew me. We would walk through with me talking loudly to my mates and making as if to go where the papers were made up then dashing down to the platform. Coming back was a bit tricky as there were few passengers so we'd wait on the platform until a London train came in and then mingle with the crowd of passengers and push through.
Some years later, when my brother was a railway man, I found out that all the collectors knew what we were up to - we were let through on the premise that boys will be boys!
A final tale: One day, me and a mate decided to go scrumping. We crossed the 'footie' by Reigate Road and crossed Baring Road to Coopers Lane. I had my Dad's brand new Hercules Roadster Bike and my mate had a 'racing bike with drop handlebars. Incidentally, the area of land near the footie which was all allotments, is now called 'Grove Park Nature Reserve', or something like that.
We parked our bikes in the kerb by a house with a big garden and went through a hole in the fence - a lot of fences had sufferred bomb blast damage - and started filling our pockets with apples. After a short while, to my horror I saw a policeman's helmet just above the fence top coming our way. We dashed out of the other side of the garden into the next road. Now we had the problem of getting our bikes back! We hit upon a strategy of wandering along the joining road shouting the name of a fictitious friend. When we got up to the rozzer we asked him if he had seen said friend? He looked down at us and said 'You.ve been scrumping, and that's stealing, if you go on that my lads you could end up in Greenwich Juvenile Court - now get your bikes from behind that fence and bugger off back to Downham'. We broke all records getting home. In a loose moment I told my Dad what had happened. He gave a cuff behind the ear!
That's all folks!
Regards,
Vic.
