Life Down t'Lane (Whittington Moor, Chesterfield, Derbyshire, World War 2 thru 1957) - By: Taptonlen

It wasn't until after the war that we got our first sight of bananas, pomegranates and other semi-exotic fruits. Even when they became available, it was a matter of queuing for some time before getting served, once the word had gone round the street that they were in the shop. The same occurred later, when Wall's ice-cream first appeared on the shelves. There was another fruit that we got in those days that I no longer see, a locust bean. These were brown, the shape of a bean, but were the seed pods of the locust tree, and there were pips inside. They were hard to chew but sweet and we loved them.

The other major difference was that children could go out on their own without parental concern for their safety. I used to frequently be away from home from morning to dusk, especially if we went on a long trek to Baslow. Although our parents did worry to some extent, there was never the same fear that pervades today's society and there was never any question of reporting us missing to the police. They always knew we would be back when we were hungry!

Further memories of childhood included having cod liver oil and malt on a large spoon, although I did get used to it and finally enjoyed it. This was Mam's contribution to keeping us fit and healthy to ward off colds and flu especially during winter. Breakfast was normally milk pobs and occasionally Weetabix or Shredded Wheat. (Milk pobs were squares of previous day's bread floating in hot milk and sugar.)

When money allowed it we would have the cheaper cuts of meat such as pig's trotters, cow heel together with tripe and, occasionally stewing meat and onions plus a few vegetables, all of which produced lovely greasy gravy that was marvellous to dip your bread in. It was all extremely nourishing although it would be frowned on by the dietitians of today. There was no electric toaster and all toast had to be done by holding the bread on a toasting fork in front of the coal fire.

Talking of cheap cuts of meat reminds me of my Dad's liking of cow's udder and eels. Dad is the only one I have ever known who liked udder; just the smell of it being boiled in the pan was enough to put me off Dad's delicacy for life! Plus the sight of him cleaning and cutting the eels up before cooking them. Even Mam drew the line at cooking them. When I was a teenager and used to go fishing, Dad would always urge me to bring home some fresh water eels. He would say, 'If tha sees any silly buggers catchin' eels and wanting to throw them back in t'river or t'lake, tell 'em I'll have 'em'. If I did return with any, I was his favourite son for the day.
The main drink at home was always a cup of tea or the occasional cup of Camp coffee, except for Mam. An interesting fact is that Mam claims she has never had a cup of tea or coffee in her life. To my knowledge when I was a child, she only drank water or pop (lemonade or orange) or if she could afford the expense, cocoa. Even today she will only drink Ovaltine. Can you imagine another human body so free of the normal toxins? One of the benefits was that at the age of 75, not only could she touch her toes with the tip of her fingers but she could place the palm of her hands on the floor, without bending her knees.

4)We were finally made aware that there was a war on, when the Germans made frequent bombing raids on Sheffield, just ten miles away, which contained a lot of steelworks and, naturally, armaments factories. It was actually blitzed on two occasions during December 1940. We could hear the constant drone overhead of the bombers from their engines and sometimes the throaty, guttural roar of the Spitfires or Hurricanes as they stormed to intercept them, before they dropped their store of destructive weapons. The noise was compounded by the distant, dull, repeated thud of the anti-aircraft guns. Unfortunately for Sheffield, there were neither enough of our fighter aircraft to spare nor anti-aircraft artillery and it was completely devastated in several areas. The first night, the Germans had come to bomb the steelworks, but they mistook the main shopping street for the other street on the way to Rotherham which should have been their target. So the centre of the city was badly hit. Apparently, although there was a strict blackout curfew in place at night, the German bombers simply followed the sparks created by the steam engines travelling north, on the railway, from London. Three days/nights later the bombers returned and attacked the steelworks with some success. The blackout stayed in place in Chesterfield until 18 September 1944 when it was lifted.

We were fortunate that there were only a few bombs dropped near us, the closest bombs fell on the centre of Whittington Moor, where a number of houses near the Black Horse public house were destroyed. These caused little loss of life, as far as I am aware, but left ruins for a long time and it was years before anything was done about them.

When the bombing raids were on, I don't remember too much detail, but I do recollect that we were absolutely terrified. Part of the fear was generated by the air-raid siren which was operated from the nearby Pottus. I don't think any child who survived the war could ever again hear that awesome rising and falling sound of the siren without feeling a chill of fear. I distinctly remember hearing the siren and hiding under the kitchen table or, if the bombing noise was more dramatic, we would go down the stairs into the pantry in case the whole house came crashing down around us. Since there were only two or three stairs, I doubt they would have saved us if a bomb had hit the house. However, it gave us some confidence of security until the reinforced concrete air raid shelters were commissioned for the whole street.

When we were hungry, we tended to eat lots of food provided by nature, primarily fruit that we took from the fields or hedgerows - blackberries, raspberries, damsons and chestnuts or hazelnuts and even hawthorn leaves (which we called bread and cheese). We also had fruit when scrumping from orchards, gardens or allotments - apples, pears or gooseberries.

Reviews of Life Down t'Lane
By Tony Benn former 2nd Viscount Stansgate & British Labour politician
It really is a great and authentic record of life during and after World War II. I know it will reflect the experiences of many local people and I am sure they would greatly enjoy reading it.

By Desmond Baker (Old Taptonian 1949-1957)
Life Down t’Lane describes, in honest detail, our terraced-house lives in the 1940s and 50s.

About the Author

Len Thompson - Autobiographical, Social and Industrial History Author Books written: Life Down t'Lane 1997 ISBN 0953508404 Memories of Tapton House School 1999 ISBN 0953508412 A History of Tapton House 2001 ISBN 0953508420 A Rough Diamond in South Africa 2008 ISBN 9780952567837 For more details or to purchase a copy of this audio book http://www.lenthompson.net/life_downt_lane.html">click here

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