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EVERY
PICTURE TELLS A STORY...
...
place your mouse over any of the pictures and see what you
can discover.
MUSIC
MAESTRO PLEASE
As
each page is opened you should hear some music, to
compliment each story – so, unless you hate music,
turn on the sound – and ENJOY!
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 ALBIE’S
MOTHER, Gladys, picks up the story now and recounts
for us her memories of Regis Place and its inhabitants during the
war years.
She starts where Edie left off and tells us more about Albie, starting
with his christening.
WE
HAD INTENDED
to have Albie christened at our nearest ‘Primitive’
Methodist chapel, in Beeston Road, Sheringham, due to Albert, my
husband and the baby’s father, being ‘chapel’. You
may recall Edie saying that I was ‘Army’ and that we’d
been married in the town’s C of E church, well the war was
causing problems for so many people in so many different ways, and
we were no exception.
So,
when it came to Albie being christened it could only be done in
the Station Road Methodist chapel, which just happened to be a ‘Wesleyan’
chapel. This was because our local chapel was closed due to some
bomb damage, I believe.
In
Regis Place, where we lived, we were very fortunate to have avoided
the worst of the bombing in Sheringham. Not too far away, in Barford
Road (see
map), on Sunday 22 September 1940, a lone German
bomber dropped four high-explosive bombs, resulting in one house
being totally demolished and over 500 other properties damaged.
One lady, a Mrs Abbs from West Runton, was killed whilst waiting
for a bus. We heard the enormous ‘bang’ even though we
were several streets away. It was such a sad time for everyone in
Sheringham.
REGIS
COTTAGE IS BLACKED OUT
 Every
night, we had to make sure all the windows were taped and curtains
pulled tightly shut to comply with the Air Raid Precautions. As
the ‘Blackout’ was in force the merest chink of light
would, at the very least, have got a ‘Put that light out!’
from the Air Raid Precautions’ warden.
In
our front room we had a Morrison Shelter to give some protection
against falling masonry and flying glass. It was a very basic contraption
consisting of a large metal box, rather like a table, but with filled
in sides, and big enough for two or three people to squeeze in during
an air raid. One side, covered with a heavy iron mesh, was hinged
to allow access. Goodness knows how you got out if you were trapped
and the house was on fire – it doesn’t bear thinking about!
Anyway, we never used it, neither did we use the large Mickey Mouse
gas mask we were supposed to place baby Albie in!
By
comparison, we got off very lightly with only cracked and sunken
ceilings, although the back of Regis Cottage was, on one occasion,
strafed by a low-flying German fighter, and bore the bullet holes
for many years. The neighbours called it ‘hedgehopping’,
though there weren’t any hedges to speak of near Regis Place.
To this day, I think it’s a wonder that Jerry didn’t take
someone’s chimney-pot off, as low as he was!
FOOD
WAS IN SHORT SUPPLY
 At
that time Albert was away serving his Country, and life was very
hard. Food was in short supply, what there was was rationed and
had to be carefully eked out. No fresh eggs, only dried egg powder,
hardly any meat, butter or tea. And definitely, no bananas! Money,
naturally, was very tight as there was little coming into the household.
Edie and I just had to find a way to keep house and home together.
So we began to take in washing!
In
Sheringham, at that time, the more-affluent folk lived nearer the
Golf Links, the part we always referred to as the‘West End’.
Here, we collected bed-linen; sheets, pillowcases and the like,
and brought them back to wash in our old copper boiler outside,
that had originally been used, by the fishermen, to boil up their
locally-caught crabs!
Then,
after giving the washing a good agitate in the ‘dolly’
tub, and putting them through the old mangle in the back yard to
squeeze out most of the water, it was time to peg out and pray for
a good dry.
Ironing
came next. The fire in the kitchen would be stoked up and the irons
put on the trivet to warm up, until they were ‘spitting’
hot. After ironing, the neatly-pressed sheets and pillowcases were
piled up on Albie’s pushchair and taken back to the West End
– all for a few coppers, although desperately needed!
On
one occasion, Albie managed to coat some newly-pressed sheets with
the contents of a tin of red-tile polish, used for colouring the
door step! All the washing had to be done again, with much scrubbing
by hand! Luckily, the weather stayed fine that day.
 In
wartime Regis Place, there was a real sense of community spirit,
with all the neighbours ready to lend a hand in times of need. Here,
I must mention some of the names I can recall from those early days:
the Page family at No. 2, next door were the Draycott’s, whilst
we were at No. 6, always known as Regis Cottage. John Bowler, a
carpenter, and his wife Pamela lived next door to us. A year or
so after Albie was born, the Bowler’s had a daughter, Sylvia.
On
the opposite side of the road lived the Bayfield family in a house
called Ivydene, with the Shadford’s next to them in Rockdene.
Wilfred
Bayfield had a small dairy, which he ran with the Hannah’s,
delivering milk locally by pony and trap. The milkman would bring
it to your door and ladle it out of a large churn into your own
earthenware jug, using half- or pint-ladles if I remember correctly.
As
we had no ’fridges in those days the jug of milk had to be
kept in a cool place in summer, usually covered with a lacy cloth,
with glass beads along its edges to weigh it down, necessary to
keep the bluebottles off!
The
Bayfield’s had three sons; Albert, Louis and Kenneth, and a
daughter, Valerie. All the boys were much older than Valerie, who
was more Albie’s age, so it was inevitable that Albie and Valerie
became the very best of friends. As they grew up, they became inseparable,
more like brother and sister, and went everywhere together. They
rode their tricycles from one end of Regis Place to the often, in
complete safety as there was little traffic in those days. And they
played hide-and-seek amongst the bushes in the overgrown gardens
down at the bottom of the road.
SHERINGHAM
PREPARES FOR INVASION FROM THE SEA
 But
how we would have loved to have gone down to the beach, just a few
minutes walk away. This was only permitted on certain days at the
local army commander’s discretion of course, as, during those
wartime years, the beaches were cordoned off with barbed-wire and
patrolled by armed sentries – such was the fear of invasion.
One
day, the Army requisitioned the large house at the end of our road.
Soon, troops moved in, and stacks of prettily-coloured shells (according
to Albie!) appeared in the back garden. Regis Place would never
quite be the same again! However, Albie and Valerie became great
favourites of the troops, who often gave the children their much-valued
bars of chocolate. Such a welcome treat in those days!
Albie’s
dad came home one day, on 48-hour pass, unwilling to talk about
his part in the war. We all knew it must be serious as he had his
rifle with him and stood it up behind the scullery door. It was
loaded, he said, just in case. Something was up, we sensed it, but
what?
 A
few days later, following what we now know as D-Day, massed troop
landings took place in Normandy, on the French coast. Albert Gray,
senior, went over to France with an Armoured Division on D-Day plus
two, and it was to be many months before we saw him again.
How
we all longed for an end to that dreadful time in our lives, whilst
being constantly reminded:
“There’ll
be bluebirds over, the White Cliffs of Dover, tomorrow, just you
wait and see...”
Albie,
Nanny and I just wanted Daddy safely home again, that’s all
we ever hoped and prayed for...
NEXT:
Albie’s first day at
school.
Please sign Albie’s guestbook as I would love to hear your
comments –
or email:
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