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Again time alludes me but on one Saturday the army moved out as suddenly as they came, and on the following morning an enemy fighter plane strafed all the woods with his machine guns making us dive under the stairs, one stray bullet broke a window in the kitchen. It was thought at the time that the whole army was there, everything was well camouflaged but once they moved it could be seen where they had been.

Driffield Aerodrome which was only about six miles away cross country was also bombed several times, and as the country was fairly flat we could see the bombers diving down, the plumes of smoke could be seen rising for miles, a spy was caught signalling to the planes where to bomb.

During the summer of 1940 the garden was plagued with white butterflies, the ones that lay eggs and turn into caterpillars. Mr Coatham had some large butterfly nets and so during the ‘Battle of Britain’ when the enemy was sending all their bombers and fighters, I used to listen to the 6 o’clock news to hear how many enemy planes had been shot down and the following day catch that same number of butterflies. This I believe could number up to a hundred, it was my war effort.

Looking forward to the postman was a daily occurrence as Mam always sent me the ‘Hotspur’ every week with a news letter or surprise parcel. I had my meccano sent through and was very keen on jigsaw puzzles, we had a jigsaw club at school.

Mam sent me an Airfix model kit of a glider and I spend many evenings gluing all the pieces of balsa wood, cutting and shaping the various pieces then covering the wings and body with tissue paper. It was quite a large glider when it was complete and I remember taking it outside on the grass to see if it would fly, then I saw Mrs Wrangham coming down the path so I quickly picked the plane up and dashed indoors. Unfortunately, the entrance doors to the cottage where in two halves and only one half was open, and trying to squeeze through the narrow opening I squashed my plane beyond repair. I cried my eyes out that night.

I also remember buying a camera from Woolworth’s in two parts at sixpence each with a film for sixpence, everything was sixpence or under. The only problem with the camera was that it just had a metal frame to look through and even though you would have your object in view in the focus frame the camera lens may not be pointing in the right direction and often only took half a person.

Evening wash time was another event which now makes me smile, being a country cottage there was no bathroom so I used to get a strip wash in front of the fire. Having been brought up without a father as my Dad was killed when I was only six months, I was very shy about undressing in front of men, so I always insisted that the clothes horse with towels on was there to act as a screen between me and Mr Coatham, but it did not worry me about Mrs Coatham seeing me. Thinking back it might have been due to Mr Coatham acting as ‘Father’ that helped me settle in.

Paraffin lamps where the main lighting with candles for going to bed with.

Again time elapses, I remember lying in my bed and at about 11 o’clock would hear the drone of our Wellington bombers passing overhead on the way to Germany, their engines straining under the weight of the bombs they were carrying. Then, as the dawn was breaking I would hear them return and I would sit on the wide window sill peering into the sky counting the planes as they flew overhead some struggling, I believe this period would have been autumn. During this time our schooling was continuing after a fashion, our numbers had dropped but we continued having new teachers. I think they used to come for a holiday, they always came to visit where I was staying, and very often I used to take a bag of apples to where they were lodging.

The Village Church was St Andrews, all evacuees were expected to attend the children’s service in the morning, and Mr and Mrs Coatham and myself went to the evening service. Major Wrangtham and his wife were also members of the church and traditionally decorated the church at Harvest time.

During the summer Mam came to stay for a few days and I remember having to go and meet her at the bus stop and being worried in case I could not recognise her, as it seemed such a long time since I left home. I had no need to worry as she was the only person leaving the bus, the weather was glorious, Mam never asked if I wanted to come home and we had a good time, after Mam went home I settled back into routine.

Time seemed to pass very quickly, I soon reached the age of fourteen and at that time the government allowance stopped and you either had to get a job where you lived or go back home to start work, or your parents could pay for you to stay.

As there where no jobs available at that time it was decided that I should go back home in the December, at the end of the school term. I found out later that the apprentice gardener left his job after Christmas and there might have been a job for me.

Leaving for home was a sad time as well as a happy time, I was looking forward to seeing my brothers and sister and Grandparents bit sorry to leave Mr and Mrs Coatham as they had been so good to me.

I remember Mr Coatham arranging for my case to be left at the station the night before, then the two of us setting off on our bikes. I’m not sure of the time but it was still dark when we left the cottage, we had to cycle about 4 miles to the station, by that time it was getting light when the steam train pulled in and the guard put my bike in the rear goods van and promised to put me off at Sunderland. Sad farewells were said, I can’t remember the journey home, just meeting my Mam and walking home pushing my bike.

I continued to write to them for a while until I believe they moved. I only wish I had had a good camera to take some photos for memories.

About twenty five years ago, my wife and I called at Bairnton on our way from London, and what had been a minor road past the Village had become a main road to the East Coast, the Village was the same, the Church still there. I found the road leading to the Hall. I even found the driveway, but on reaching the end of the Drive I stopped the car and got out, instead of the peace and quiet of the country I could hear machinery. Looking through the trees I could see a large crane in the process of knocking down part of the Hall, I quickly left not wishing to see any more of my past destroyed.

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Recently, all this came flooding back to me, I was about to go to bed and intending to switch the television off when a programme called the Kitchen Garden came on. It showed this large house with a walled garden very similar to the one I stayed at and comments about how the Head Gardeners main job was to ensure that fresh vegetables where always sent to the big house daily alongside fresh fruit. This programme certainly stirred up memories, how during the early spring before the fresh vegetables were ready from the garden various vegetables were forced under clay pots covered with straw and some brought on in heated greenhouses and the apples and peas where stored in the loft of the gardeners work cottage and turned and inspected daily to ensure no rotting fruit was there. How wrong it was that so many people and so much time should be spent to ensure the well-off should be pandered to, the programme also reminded me that nature does not work a five day 38 hour week, on Saturday and Sunday there is always work to do, looking after boilers in the winter, opening greenhouse ventilators in the summer, watering plants, feeding hens and pigs and collecting eggs etc.

Paraffin lights filled and trimmed on Saturday. Paraffin delivered when the travelling van came round on the Friday. There were no local shops in Bainton so you had to remember to get everything from the van and shopping was less complicated then.

Toilet facilities were primitive, a middern which had to be emptied daily on the compost heap and the males used to go in the woods.

All cooking was done on the kitchen range with a small paraffin heater as back up, all bread baked in the oven.

Lighting the stove, cutting logs, chopping fire wood, emptying midderns and drawing water were daily tasks which had to be done regardless of weather, which we now take for granted.

I was the youngest of a family of three brothers and one sister. My sister was the eldest and joined the A.R.P as an ambulance driver during the Blitz. Eldest brother was in the Territorials before the war and was called up immediately for the army. Brother George was called up and went into the army abroad. Brother Wilf enlisted as soon as old enough and joined the R.A.F.

I started as an apprentice joiner at 14, working for Hudson and Lucus, a lot of my apprenticeship was spent on repairing bomb damaged property, working till seven or eight o’clock in the evening and most weekends.

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