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 – 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 other s 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, passing 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 small 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 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.
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 – 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 other s 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, passing 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 small 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 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.
2 comments:
I could not help but chuckle at some of the things you brought to light and made me look back upon my own childhood. It is so funny how the little things always stick out in details. I too can remember building forts, digging fox holes and then covering them with some type of burlap and calling it our fort. We even ran away one evening and spent all night there. Our parents never even missed us. Somehow I think they knew about it and were not worried.
Thanks for the walk down memory lane skipper. Seems as though we had a lot in common back then. As a friend of mine use to say. "I think we went to different High Schools together".lol
Well BJ, I don't think that during that period of time people were too different, now things have changed out of sight. It's really quite sad and not a little scary that kids have lost the ability or desire to just walk about exploring, it's a great way to learn without the use of a classroom.
H
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