- Contributed byÌý
- HnWCSVActionDesk
- People in story:Ìý
- Raymond Holt
- Location of story:Ìý
- Crowle, Worcestershire
- Background to story:Ìý
- Civilian
- Article ID:Ìý
- A6556908
- Contributed on:Ìý
- 31 October 2005
RAYMOND HOLT’S STORIES OF LIFE IN CROWLE VILLAGE
Our family business was Coffin Makers, Undertakers and Carpenters
I was born in Crowle, Worcestershire in 1933. I was six years old when World War 2 began. My Father was the village undertaker, coffin maker, carpenter and local Special Constable. My Grandfather had been the coffin maker and undertaker before my Father took over. We all lived within a hundred yards of each other in Crowle village.
Crowle Primary School
I had one sister, born in 1935 and we both went to the village school when we were five years old. Its nickname was ‘Crowle College for Curly Kids’. We walked to school and had school dinners, which cost 2/1d per week.
News that World War 2 had begun
We listened to the wireless, a big model with valves and an accumulator battery which could be recharged. Reception was pretty good. The day when war was announced was memorable. Dad had been in the 1914-18 war, so he heaved a sigh and said, ‘Here we go again!’ Mother obviously felt much as he did, they knew everyone had no alternative but to just get on with it!
In the village, a Home Guard group was quickly formed. Everyone knew it was essential to keep home produce going. Dig for Victory was the slogan and they certainly did. Villagers kept chickens and many people had a pig or two. Country folk knew how to be self-sufficient. Produce was shared and the women folk became experts at preserving everything.
A local farmer made the cider; anyone with a barrel could keep cider. Granddad always had a barrel in the workshop and old fellows came round to see him coffin making and were pleased to join him in a ‘horn’ of cider. He had mugs made from cow horns. It was strong stuff, they used to call it ‘Rot Gut’, but they didn’t over indulge. They enjoyed a few laughs and the companionship.
Granddad was a brilliant poacher
There was always a good rabbit hanging up until it was ready to be skinned and cooked. Rabbit meat was good in those days. He brought home partridge and pheasants, when sufficiently hung, they made very tasty meals.
Coffin delivery
One night Granddad, my Dad and two other chaps were carrying an empty coffin from Crowle to Himbleton. It was dusk and there was a shoot going on. Granddad had his greyhound dog with him. Suddenly there was a shot nearby, a pheasant fell onto the track a little way ahead of them. Granddad told the dog to ‘fetch’. It raced up and carried it back to them. They lifted up the coffin lid and dropped the pheasant in. They walked on and then the Squire appeared and asked if they had seen a pheasant drop nearby. ‘No Sir’ said Granddad. ‘It didn’t drop here!’ They dropped the pheasant in the hedge just before they reached the home of the deceased person and picked it up again on the way back.
Enemy aircraft, a bomb and the blackout
One night we heard the roar of planes going over to Coventry. A bomb was dropped in Broughton Hackett, and we went to see the crater. The blackout was in force, car and bicycle lights had to be shaded, and all house windows were fitted with ‘blackout’ curtains to be kept closed when lights were on.
American soldiers
Spetchley Park was used to accommodate American soldiers who were convalescing. Once, my friend and I saw them on the bridge over Bowbrook. We used to jump over into the water and have a bit of fun. The Americans climbed onto the top of their lorries and jumped into the brook. We had never seen such big black men. We knew if we said, ‘Got any gum, chum?’ they would give us something. Sometimes they threw bars of chocolate, gum and biscuits our way.
There were dances once a month in the Village Hall. The American soldiers came along and the village girls enjoyed that. A local girl married a Yank after the war — our only G.I Bride.
Evacuees
My Parents took in two evacuees from the London area. They were girls aged around six or seven. They came to school with us and mixed well with the other children. They enjoyed our way of life and I think they learned to love the countryside.
Fancy dress parades
They used to organise fancy dress parades in our village. Adults and children dressed up in a variety of costumes. Some borrowed old clothes and uniforms; others made costumes for themselves and the children. Everyone who had entered for the parade put on their costumes and followed the route through the village to the point where the judging was done. It was all good fun, and there were small prizes for the winners. The money raised was used for ‘Wings for Victory’.
Reclaiming metal for the war effort
Cast iron fences, gates, bells, gongs and old pots and pans were donated, collected and salvaged, to be used in munitions manufacture. The Boy Scouts made household collections of any metal objects, which could be spared.
Corn harvest
The corn was cut, tied into sheaves and stood up in stooks to dry out. Then it was put into a rick and left until the time had come for thrashing. The grain was thrashed out, a very dusty job. All the workers had to tie the string around their trouser legs, because once the rick was disturbed, lots of rats came out. Having one run up the trouser leg was to be avoided! The terrier dogs worked hard chasing and killing the rats. They have a way of grasping the rat and shaking it so that its neck breaks with one deft movement. There were sometimes Prisoners of War working on the harvest. They wore brown or blue boiler suit type overalls, with bright orange or yellow patches on the front and back. They helped in the fields and on the farms. When the threshing was done everyone was glad to sit down and enjoy a drink of cider or lemonade. It was thirsty work.
Postscript
That was a time in our lives when we experienced sadness, when news reached us of the deaths of brave villagage lads. Some were killed in action. We laughed, played and worked as we lived through the war years. Families supported each other, and the village community worked together. The VE Day celebrations were memorable. The sense of relief to know that we had come through it all!
I eventually married a girl who came as an evacuee to our village.
This story was submitted to the People’s War site by June Woodhouse (volunteer) of the CSV Action Desk at ´óÏó´«Ã½ Hereford and Worcester on behalf of Ray Holt (author) and has been added to the site with his permission. The author fully understands the site’s terms and conditions.
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