I was trying to catch up
with the world news, or what the television offers
as world news, and an advertisement came on for
some toy store. Now, nothing wrong with that per
say except that the wording was along the lines
of 'give your kids many interesting things to
do - fill in their day with ...' etc
Has it really got to the stage where kids have
to be entertained and guided every minute of
the day? That’s plain stupid. OK - wait for
it, you are now going to get one of those dreadful
"when I was a kid" stories, sorry
but it has to be said. So how did we spend a,
say Saturday, in summer?
With the long hours of daylight we would be
up by 6am and by 7am we would have had breakfast
and be ready to face the day and on the way
to our favourite meeting place. This changed
over the years but all knew the current one
so we didn't need half an hour on a mobile phone,
to discuss the location. You never knew just
who would turn up or even when, you just knew
it would happen. In your rucksack you had a
lunch packed by either parents or housekeeper.
This would usually be a sandwich or two, a couple
of hard boiled eggs and a slice of cake - baked
at home and not from a packet. You would also
have a stone jar of some sort of drink, usually
homemade lemonade or ginger beer, if you were
very lucky you might even have a shilling in
your pocket to purchase some Tizer to drink
and if the ration had reached the shops, a small
bar of chocolate.
Once 2 or 3, maybe even 4 or 5 others had turned
up, you would be off. This Saturday was to start
with a wander. Crossing the fields to the railway
line we would get beside the track and head
south. From time to time other lines would join
the one you were on and you would divert to
see where it came from, trains thundered past
but being steam trains you heard them coming
a mile away and would get to the side of the
track in plenty of time. By 10am we would be
about 5 miles from home (we didn’t walk fast)
there was no reason to and we had to stop and
investigate 'things' along the way. Still by
this time we would be thirsty, so a short break
was in order to have a little of the dink we
all carried in our rucksacks.
The line walking ended when we saw something
of interest. It could be a tiny gathering of
buildings denoting a small village, or a river
with ducks swimming or fishermen on the banks,
or might be an one of the many un cleared bombed
out buildings that still littered the countryside.
Today it was a single deserted airstrip that
caught our attention. It was quite a small place
with something that had once been a crude runway,
a small observation tower and a couple of collapsed
tin huts. It had probably been one of the many
RAF fighter bases for Spitfires or Hurricanes,
or, at one time or another perhaps both. These
little strips were scattered around so that
the German bombers couldn't get many planes
at any one time. The rest of the morning was
spent crawling around in the huts and observation
tower, small items of found 'stuff' would become
treasures to be taken home in the ever trusty
rucksack. Lunch was dragged out and enjoyed
sitting on a grassy back beside the airstrip,
I bet, in the past many a fighter pilot had
also enjoyed the sun and a sandwich when sitting
in the same spot. I guess for them there would
have been a constant knot of fear that made
any food difficult to swallow. Many were between
18 and 21 years old, only 8 or so years older
than we were at the time ... that's pretty scary.
From the little observation platform at the
top of the small tower we had spotted a road
and at about noon or a little after we headed
off across the fields to find it. Time was tricky
as none of us had a wristwatch but Denis Waters
did carry an old alarm clock in his rucksack,
that, from time to time, we dragged out to get
a bearing on time.
Reaching the road we soon found a crossroads
and that meant a signpost. These were mainly
new as all signs had been removed during the
war just in case the Germans got there. Some
bright spark in the Ministry of Roads or whatever
must have been under the illusion that Germans
couldn't read maps and that by removing the
road signs whole Panzer Regiments would get
lost, give up and go home.
Anyway the sign told us that Oxted was 6 miles
away and off we went. Actually we didn't have
to walk all the way as one of the local farm
hands came along on a tractor that was pulling
a hay wagon, so, we got a lift to just outside
of the village - bit smelly as the cart had
recently held manure but a ride is a ride.
Seeing as it was ten minutes to 2pm there was
time to make the matinee at the cinema. The
seats were 9 pence for a matinee and we just
had enough money. I have no idea what the film
was on the day in question, it would have either
been a western or very 'B' SciFi. Actually,
today (51 years later) I collect these old scifis
and have over a hundred of them with more being
added weekly. I think the cinema was glad to
see us go as the manure smell was becoming evident
even to ourselves and as the film ended all
the exit doors were thrown wide open.
After the cinema we pooled the money we still
had and bought a couple of bottles of tizer
and three sticky buns to be dived up between
us. It was now just after 4pm but still bright
daylight, being summer it wouldn't get dark
until around 9.30/10.00pm but there would be
a long twilight. Still, parents got a bit grumpy
if you were late for dinner (usually around
7.00pm) so we started to wander back to base
camp, which, at this time, was a tunnel dug
in the woods not far from my house. As tunnels
go this was quite a good one. It had lino on
the floor, a small stove with pipe chimney,
cushions and a small wooden cupboard with munchies,
usually nuts we had found but at times with
packets of potato crisps although these were
scarce and treated like gold. On vary rare occasions
there might even be a packet of biscuits, these
had to be seriously rationed.
Safely tucked away in our underground fortress
we lit the fire, I don’t know why as it wasn’t
cold, it was just that you couldn't have a good
camp without it, and planned the next weekend
which was to be a campout in the grounds of
my house. These were always fun and it meant
that we could sneak away into the woods after
midnight without parents getting ratty. During
the week we would collect as much food as possible,
ready for the cookout. There still wasn't a
lot around but we could get local produce so
things like eggs, sausages and bacon were available
in small quantities and there would be plenty
of potatoes to roast in the fire and then eat
with heaps of butter melted on them.
We broke up at about 6.30pm giving us time to
get home before dinner (following getting thrown
into the bath - it must have been very good
manure).
So, that was a typical Saturday, nothing to
speak of really happened and we didn't try and
set the world on fire. No video games, no music
earphones to cut off the outside world, no mobile
phones, no bikes or skateboards, just a very
big and interesting world that really did need
us to explore it. There again if we had possessed
modern toys we would probably have favoured
them and these wandering days would never have
happened. That would be sad, you remember these
early rambles long into mature age ... for how
long do you remember a video game?
