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In the side streets around, there were parked, Military Lorries, lots of them. They were unguarded. At night we would climb into these vehicles, and by cranking them in gear, by their starter-motors, "drive" them along the streets. Also in the streets, on waste ground, were sited "Barrage Balloons". This were silver, gas filled objects, made of rubber. They were about 80 feet long and 30 feet high, with a 3 pointed tail. They were accompanied by a lorried winch, to which they were tethered, and by piles of metal gas bottles, on trailers alongside. These anti-aircraft balloons filled the skies, they were an amzing sight. Often, when it was windy, these balloons, would break free. They would wander aimlessly around the skies, until, through loss of gas, they would descend. Sometimes onto a persons house, draping it in floppy rubber, much to our delight. We would watch the antics of these balloons, and their crews, for hours. The ballons were tethered at night, with eight ropes on each side. When they were unattended, we would creep up, in the dark, and gently untie these ropes, and watch these balloons soar up into the sky. Lovely!!
About two hundred yards from our house, was a Canal, a branch of the Surrey Canal. This flowed from Canal Head by Peckham High Street down to a main branch in Albany Road, Camberwell. This was an ideal play ground for us, fishing for "tiddlers", tiny fish, sticklebacks and other creatures. We fell in many times and used to stay out until our clothes dried. There were many barges on this stretch of canal. We used to clamber on these barges, untie any accesible one, and pole it slowly down stream to Willowbrook Bridge. It was here that the canal narrowed, and we never were able to get past here.
On one occasion we clambered from this barge onto the far shore. Here there was a large Timber yard. We took from here timbers for our "camps", and to make scooters, with ball bearings as wheels. We also made "carts", box like structures, with pram wheels, and swivelling fronts to steer with. Pram wheels and axles, and ball-bearings were in great demand to build these gadgets. Great fun, could be had with them, we would hurtle down the slopes on these canal bridges, skidding at the bottom, and sometimes overshooting into the canal, it wasn,t very deep, but it was very wet, and cold.
My pal, Dan, seemed always to be in trouble, I would knock for him, and be told by his Gran (who brought him up, as he did not have a mother) to, go away, he is not allowed out!!. I would retire, and from upstairs, I would see Dan clamber out of the top bedroom window, gingerly negotiate the wall topped with broken glass, and join me down in the street below.
We would stand by the roadside in Southampton Way, and when the lorries slowed down to turn the corner, we would jump, and hang on the back for a free ride down Commercial Way, this was called "hopping the wag". More great fun, unless the lorry driver caught you. On one occasion the driver in question, turned out to be Dan,s father!! There, then, followed, a good hiding , then another period, when he was not allowed "out to play".
We managed to secrete some chemicals from our school Chemical Lab. We used to make "invisible ink", fireworks, and stinkbombs. One particular stink bomb, I remember contained a lot of sulphur, amongst other substances. It was a really pungent device. So much so, that Dan,s Aunt Mary, who was asthmatic, collapsed under the influence of this smelly device, and was rushed to hospital. Another grounding for poor Dan.
We would play a game called "knockers". You would tie two adjacent door knockers together. Knock on the doors and retire quickly undercover, and watch the antics of these poor people trying to open their doors, against the string, Immense Fun!!
Or tinkle, this was played in the "blackout", A coin was drilled and string passed through the hole. We would hide in the front gardens, and when a passer by approached, we would toss this tied coin onto the darkened pavement. The passer by, thinking they had dropped a coin, would scrabble around the pavement in the dark, looking for the coin. We would be in hysterics in the front gardens. More immense fun, we thought.
One day after seeing an impressionable James Cagney film, we decided to play "gangsters" We bought two bottles of Wincarnis {tonic wine} from the chemists, pinched a couple of cigars, and proceeded to play Monopoly with big money. I do not know who won, but we were all violently sick, and further "grounded"
There was a grapevine in the rear garden of a house further up Cator Street. I remember that when they ripened, we climbed into this garden and filled our "lumberjackets" with these grapes. The owner, Mr. Ninds a plumber, came out, and chased us down the street. We tore through my house, unloading the grapes on the way (they were slowing us down). All my family were there, playing cards as usual,. (instead of looking after the children). We went through our rear garden and eventually lost our pursuer, Mr.Ninds. When we returned home for our spoils, my family had eaten them. Uncle Bert, who was one of the main instigators, of this mean act, remarked that "they were a bit sour".
We discovered, that if you made a loop of stiff wire, and inserted the loop between the rear fire doors of the cinemas, you could hook the push bar on the inside. A gentle pull on this wire loop, would release the door, and in we went via the "Gents" toilet. We would watch the main film in the Gaumont, and then visit the Odeon, down the road, and watch the main film there. Sometimes when we were seated , the Toilet door would open, and a stream of kids would stroll in. This was an hilarious sight, but gave the game away.
There was a commisionnaire, at the Odeon, whom we called "Medals". He was an old soldier from the previous war and he wore his medals when on duty. His war was now waged on us ,and other "bunkers in" as this pastime was called. He caught me one day and hit me with his torch, a large chrome one, and it hurt, the "b………d"!!
Next door , to another member of our gang , Raymond, who also lived in Cator Street, was a small factory called "Woods" it had fascinating machinery in it, which we could see working when we climbed up on packing cases out side. There was also a small works canteen. We could see the men playing darts during their breaks. We thought we would like to try this darts game out. So we climbed into the canteen one day and picked up the darts, and proceeded to throw them in the general direction of the dart-board. This went on for some time until a dart ricocheted of the wall and imbedded itself in Ray,s "head". It proved not to be serious, but he wasn,t very happy about it. He was taken to St.Giles Hospital, but was soon discharged. We had the riot act read to us. This was the same Ray who, whilst playing in an old cast iron bath tub, (which rocked) in a shed, in the playground of Camden Church School, had his finger tips chopped off when this bath, occupied by several of us knocked against the wall, wedging his finger tips. Very painful! He has the scars to this day of this incident.
This school was run by a headmistress called Miss Todd. She was a very formidable lady. We had to stand in the assembly, dead still, not flinching, if you moved you would get a severe look from her, which made you tremble. One day during assembly, a heavy bomb, dropped about half a mile away. The school shook, she glared at us all defying us to move or flinch. We were far more frightened of her than we were of the bombs. I can still see her very stern face glaring at me! There was a shortage of teachers, at this time. Boys would go to school in the mornings, and the girls would go in the afternoons. Such a shame.
My father was on munitions work, he had been despatched to Sheffield, to work on munitions, for the duration of the war. When he found out that we had been bombed out again, for the third time, he sent for us and we went to Sheffield, where he was working, for about 6 months.
The train journey, to Sheffield, from St.Pancras, would normally have taken about four hours. But we had several air-raid warnings en-route and it took all day to get there. It was a novelty for me , we didn,t have many train rides in those days. The train was packed, mainly with servicemen, some American, some Canadians. Returning to their various units.
We found that living in Rotherham and Sheffield, was like living in another world, pubs and theatres doing a roaring trade, and undisturbed cinema visits. We did not have any air-raids here either. At night I used to lay awake listening to the constant drone of aircraft circling above. These were heavy bombers indulging in, multi-aircraft raids, (perhaps 1000 bombers) preparing for their sorties to Germany, The noise was deafening, they must have had a lot more of this treatment than we had. The schools seemed to much stricter than in London, and I always seemed to be getting the cane for trivial reasons. I can recall, that the people up here in Yorkshire, spoke "funny" and that I had difficulty understanding their accents, until I got used to it. We spent one winter here. It was very cold, and we had large snowfalls. All the children went "sledging" on home made sledges. It was great fun. It was here in Rotherham, that I joined my first library and started to read "William" books by Richmal Crompton. They were very popular.
One day. My parents packed a picnic for us kids, and we set of to Conisboro Castle, This was seven miles away, and we were quiet tired when we arrived. But for 10 year-olds this was quite an expedition. We had a great time playing in this ruined castle, and we were a lot more tired when we got back home.
I recall, for my birthday, that my Dad, using his usual skill and patience, made for me, from a kit, a model of a Catalina flying boat. This model aircraft was made of stiffened card or paper. It slotted together, in a complicated manner, to make this 'plane. It was a lovely model, although fragile, and everyone admired it. I cannot remember whether we spent a Xmas in Yorks, but I recall it being much colder than it was in London.
The lady on the corner used to make lovely toffee apples for a penny. They were a real treat. On Saturday morning ,I used to queue at the local bakers for a cream sponge for tea. On the way back home, I used to put my finger in the gap between the slices, scoop out the "cream" and scoff it. My parents remarked on the lack of filling, but I said that due to the war shortages, they were cutting down on the filling. We began to get home-sick and applied to return to London. We returned in August 1944 to the refurbished house in Cator Street. Where we lived for the rest of the war. I then returned to my old school, Peckham Central.

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