Friday Frolics...

 

Another day of speculation, blame and buck passing passes after Nicola's resignation from office.  Naturally, the facts are blurred, lies and deceit abound, and yet she remains in office at least until the new man is sworn in, and the Stasi in the SNP are deciding which one will it be?  It is unlikely to be either of the girls who object to the genderbending, they do not fit the image, nor will it be lesbian Joanne Cherry KC, as she speaks out too often against to many of the Stasi.  She has stood down as she claims too many obstacles lie before her, this may well be true.  However, she would seek independence, and this may upset some in the SNP.  By March 27th the next lackey will be chosen, then what?

Another day seeking info on the man I sought info on yesterday.  This appears to have reached an end, though there are one or two more areas to search.  I wonder how I managed this a few years ago?  I find it all so tiring now!  This man we know a bit about, hence the search, but I laid it aside as Covid and remodelling of the Home Museum up north meant nothing could be done.  I then forgot about it.  The info once gathered will be posted to Margaret, who opened the search.  The one question is whether she herself remains about!  

This lad joined up with a 'Home' Battalion.  This means they did not venture overseas, but passed through this town on their way to Ireland.  This was after 1916.  While here, he was billeted with a family in South Street, and wrote to them when in Ireland.  Clearly they got on well, this was not uncommon at the time.  Many young men far from home were looked after by mothers missing their sons, many of whom did not return.  This man was 26 when here, obviously popular with the family and made this clear to his sister up in Darlington.  

During 1918 he somehow made his wat to France.  I suspect this was after the last great German Push in March 1918.  Desperate measures were called for and as far as I can say he moved from his 'Home' Battalion to the 'Overseas' one and took his place in the front line.   There, during September of 1918 he fell during the attack on the slowly retreating enemy.  

At the time he was called a Private, but it appeared from various sources he was a Lance Corporal and had been awarded a Military Medal.  A sis so often the case nothing could be proved, not all MMs were recorded as they ought to have been.  Also he fell as a Private, so where did the promotion come from?  The war diary, as always, does not mention his name, only officers or those with very special merit are named, but clearly during the last battle it was decided by his officers to regard him a s a Lance Corporal, and put him in for a posthumous Military Medal.  This takes time and sources never catch up for at least a year in the circumstances.  

This is all very well, but more is required, and tomorrow is football day, beginning tonight.  Margaret may have to wait a bit longer...

Thursday Baloney

A nothing day again, too chilly to wander about, once Tesco had been attended to ("Here it comes again," I heard the checkout girl say to her mate.  She not being my favourite) and buying yet more seed for the greedy Starlings!  I need to feed myself also as I just failed to remember the name 'Starlings.' I could name many birds but this one would not come, the mind blocked it.  This happens all too often nowadays.  It is part of my mind and it runs through the family this inability to remember names but when tired or sick it shows up and nothing comes that is relevant when looking for something.  I hope its just age.

A nice email from one of the museum girls today, that worried me also as it meant she wanted something.  Indeed she did and my nothing day was at the end filled with searching for a man I canny find.  He is there, I found him 5 years before I want him, but otherwise he has run away. He did reappear and die rich and happy in 1950, but it is his earlier experience I seek!  Bah!

Now I retire exhausted, strained and forgetting what I was going to do....

Research...

With the rain dampening spirits outside it is good to sit around this grubby, unswept, somewhat littered accommodation and rest my weary bones.  It has been a bit trying physically as I have been attempting to cycle, exercise and work and now wish not to do anything far from the laptop.  
Yesterday was a busy time at the museum.  The shop has begun to attract the browsing fraternity, the ones who come in, touch, feel, hum, hah!, and wander around the shop and walk out without buying.  There is also those who do buy, we smile at them, and many who came in yesterday for one of our many local books or to ask a query of some sort.  I ended up with several queries yesterday some of which could be answered.  I was a little irked that one photo of a local man has turned out not to be who we thought it was.  The cap badge looked good but on closer inspection it is clear he was from the Northamptonshire regiment.  This irked me when I discovered their regimental museum was under the control of the council who were rebuilding the museum in which it was stored and are not taking any queries until work is completed in 2020!  While I understand this it is not helpful!

A film show in the afternoon was bringing in around 50 people.  This was film a local man took on 8mm from the 60's till he died some years ago, many come to see this and look for themselves in the picture!  By person or by phone they came all morning, interrupting my work, I have nearly finished that book now.   Over all it was a good day, I never argued with anyone, folks from a wide area, including the States, passed through sort of happy, and those that went round the museum had  a good time in spite of the mess created by changing from one exhibition to another.  Of course I never got my tea until 11:30 and with people coming in it was tepid by the time I got to it!  

One chap informed me of his relation to a name on one of the memorials and just had to tell someone.  His great uncle was killed at Arras and this sent me searching more info on him and where he fell.  Another attack that succeeded until it failed and they fell back somewhat daunted.  Arras was a battle the British forces won but in the southern end they face the strongest German defences and lost out.  General Allenby was replaced after this and sent to the Middle East. Some say Sassoon had Allenby in mind with this poem.

The General

By Siegfried Sassoon

“Good-morning, good-morning!” the General said

When we met him last week on our way to the line.

Now the soldiers he smiled at are most of 'em dead,

And we're cursing his staff for incompetent swine.

“He's a cheery old card,” grunted Harry to Jack

As they slogged up to Arras with rifle and pack.

But he did for them both by his plan of attack.    
Poetry Foundation

Sunday Snoozing

What started as a lazy day, I was too knackered to do anything, ended with eye strain looking at small writing on old newspapers looking for a milkman!  Not much happened until I foolishly got intrigued by a picture of an old milkman, the type who arrive on a small horse and cart, pour milk from a jug into your jug which you then store in a cool place, if you have one.  This is not something I remember as this died out after the war.  During the war evacuees in the country drinking milk straight from cows, via jugs that is, (From which side do you milk a cow? From the udder side!) were found to contract brucellosis and this brought in pasteurisation of milk and bottles were everywhere something which we all remember from school.  Well not those A.T. that is, After Thatcher!  She ended school milk as it cost money.  When in the top class at primary we had the task of delivering milk crates to classes, great fun especially in winter when the milk froze!   
Anyway I have done the job and passed on the papers.  Another great thing about the internet is the availability of s many things once locked away in libraries.  Great though these were they were often far away and cost too much to reach.  The British Newspaper Archive is expensive but very useful.  However some papers are not found there as yet and it is to be hoped many more will show up in the future.   

On top of that I came across other details from the distant past another may like so spent considerable time passing these on.  Of course I now realise most of them were passed on may months ago anyway...

I think I will return to reading Mr Smiths excellent book 'The Team for Me!'

Dead Men Tell tales...

 

I have spent much time avoiding the sun, head down over the laptop searching for dead men.  There are plenty around, in fact they are all over the place, we never appear to run out of them.  I am reminded of one wit who, in a creepy tone  reminded his listeners that the dead outnumber the living, what is worse it that their numbers are growing all the time.   When you consider that in the twentieth century, which seems so long ago now, it was customary to identify and bury the war dead we forget that for centuries before this often a less organised system operated.  The winning side may have dug one grave and marked this for their men while being less caring for the opposition.  Each culture followed their own ideas.  Only the other day I read of a grave in Poland of dead Russian solders killed in action and buried reasonably well in the circumstances but with little marking it appears.  In hot countries it was the thing to strip bodies and reuse material and later gather the bones together, many just left them for the dogs of course.

Sometimes I wonder if we treat the war dead in those large cemeteries better than we do the men who survived?  After the war men were sent home with a few pounds as a 'gratuity' and thanks for coming and left to their own devices, today there is some help at 'debriefing' but I winder if it is enough and do men take it?  I doubt our government cares, caring costs too much!

Tomorrow I will leave aside the dead and work on something a bit more cheery.

The end of the Hot Spots in sight.  Up north rain has teemed down and I have enjoyed sending pics such as this to my friends.  Well they were friends before I sent the pics.  Today clouds hung about for a while and normal temps appear.  I might be able to go out properly now!   This is a shame as I was enjoying watching the half naked women  young children playing in the sun, they were so happy running around the park.  

The heat changes the way we look at life.  Our outlook is affected by the climate and geography in which we grow.  Peoples living high up in mountain regions do appear to have a tough outlook on life, Australians in the 'Bush' also develop this and like to show a droll humour to go with it, something lacking maybe in those in the mountains?  What does that make city dwellers raised in comfort and ease?  Those raised in a land where it rains, clouds go gray easily, and cold winds find openings you never knew about have their own individual outlook on life... 

Laptop View

My eyes! My eyes!
This has been my view all day, this laptop and screens of missing men!  Five from the first war and two from the second have been dealt with but it appears to be unending.  Scrolling down long lists of names, census returns, deaths, military, births, on and on and on.....
Stopping only to eat, I had to eat as I forgot to eat on Saturday and have been a bit off ever since, this ruined Sunday I can tell you, I nourished myself with thick lentil soup and struggled on.  I eventually drew back the curtains at lunchtime and discovered the grayness outside.  It remained there and I did not invite it inside.

Elsewhere the Aussies spent today, well yesterday, celebrating Australia Day! This I am assured has nothing to do with inventing cheap lager or stuffing English poms at cricket, indeed it is a moment of great pride when Aussies celebrate being themselves.  Good on them.
Famous for being discovered by Captain Cook sometimes in the seventeen hundreds, ignoring the Dutch who got there first, large rodents called Kangaroos, a large desert region and the majority of the population being descended from English and Irish criminals!  The Scots of course are neither criminal nor willing to go to Australia, Scots went to New Zealand and farmed sheep instead.  The glaciers there reminded them if home more than any desert might. 
The Australian is a great individual, at least I have met many when in London and all were the best type. Hard working, humorous, and the women all good looking.  Let them celebrate, they deserve themselves!

p.s. don't confuse them with Austrians, they are different.

BBC

Much excitement in politics as the Greeks stand up and rebel against austerity, an austerity much worse than that found in the UK.  It is implied by this victory by what is called the 'left wing government' the European economy will collapse when the Greeks refuse to pay their debts, and the debts are huge! Fear stalks the world and the papers are excited, especially the German ones who are paying for all this. Mind you the Greek holiday spots may be cheaper this year. Our best loved tourist guide may well be considering a return this year.

Thursday

Throwing aside the grubby ex-army blankets I got up from my laptop and ironed the last three shirts from that pile.  This was cheaper than turning on the heating.  I ensured the frost would not remain on the carpet by also making some luxurious lentil soup.  I say 'luxurious' because this potful actually tasted good when I finally tried some.  This I must confess is not always the case.  You will be gratified to know the rest of my cooking today was awful as normal.

Too much of today has been taken up with searching for folks relatives.  Printing them off if found and waddling all the way to the post office and the smiling Asian lass to send them off.  All good fun in one way but it takes a lot of time. Even updating the website memorial takes at least 30 minutes a go, and with the cold air just now it is not so enjoyable.  This means I take less time to read the drivel found in the papers.  By ignoring most of them I feel so much more relaxed.  I fear less the murderers, bad dentists, danger from eating apples and psycopaths who live round the corner for me, according to what the papers say anyway.  Funnily enough when the paper does not cause great fear and terror such fear and terror happens less around our way.  Ignoring the news also means I hear less from politicians preparing for the election.  The desperate promises from each, the slanted views of their opponents, and acres of newsprint slanted to suit their owners touch me not and I am glad. 

However this five nights a week football is wearing me out.  The sooner these sections are over the better for my sleep patterns.  What makes it worse is some of the games are rubbish, usually featuring English sides I must say.  By Saturday I might be worn out and unable to watch any more, but I will...  


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Hole in the Ground

There was he, digging this 'ole....
A small crack appeared in a pipe, not that I could see the crack, and 'Anglian Water' were alerted. There it was a fortnight later, still seeping out so I calls them on the email and gets informed they are a comin out when the lights is a ready.  The 'lights' are portable traffic lights required for this position as we are a main road.  (Which as you will know is also known as 'Stane Street' after the Romans improved the muddy track that ran past my door to Camulodunam.) This little imposition did annoy the traffic somewhat but appeared to have been worked quite well.  Not that I looked out to watch being very busy with my studies.  Well not that busy but I gave up when the info received did not fit the facts found. Some things I came across were interesting. In 1914 a Red Cross hospital opened in a wing of the Workhouse, soon this became a Voluntary Aid Detachment Hospital with 26 beds full of wounded soldiers.  The info comes from a marvellous book that originated in the diaries of one Andre Clark, a local rector, 'Echoes of the Great War.'  

Monday, 24 January 1916.

1p.m. Miss Eliza Vaughan called.  She is on the staff of the VAD hospital, Braintree:  Some of the patients are Scots, or at least of Scots regiments.  Miss Vaughan told us a hospital story, of a man who was brought in unconscious.  When he came to himself he found himself in bandages, head and foot.  She explained he had a vinegar head-swathe because of his fever; a mustard-plaster on his chest because of his lungs; and salt bags on his feet because of frost-bite.  ‘Then, Miss, I think you ought to bring some pepper, and I’ll be the complete cruet.’  

Saturday, 12 August 1916.  

Braintree VAD hospital notes.  There has been sedition among the VAD hospital patients on the question of religion.  Last Sunday those who were officially returned as Church of England were appointed to go to church with miss Leila Vaughan of Braintree, and elderly, staid VAD Nurse;  while the Nonconformists were appointed to go to Chapel with Miss Ennersley, another VAD Nurse, apparently young and frivolous.  Before Service time the CoE men said they were really strict Chapel-men.  They had each their story pat.  In the end the gay Miss Ennersley conducted a great band to the Chapel; and Miss L. Vaughan escorted the one faithful C of E man to Church.  Tomorrow, if the nurses in the Hospital get their way, Miss L. Vaughan is to have charge of the party that goes to Chapel!   

By the time my after dinner snooze arrived the workmen decided to use the digger to disturb my sleep. This failed!  However I was impressed by their speed.  Once they got going it only took a couple of hours to find, repair the pipe and refill the hole.  The traffic hold ups did not produce heavy horn blowing and dangerous driving, the size of the man in charge helped here, and soon all was back as normal. This did not help my search for words for the stuff I was supposed to be writing.  All this detailed information but it will not form into a meaningful few words.  I blame the coffee, I should have had some! 

  
They claim millions of gallons are lost this way every year and round the corner there was another burst pipe offering a wee fountain last week, I hope that was fixed quicker!  
You see how little excitement there is in this part of the world?   A hole in the ground causes me interest, which is more than the bank account does.  If things get any more exciting I may have to move to Frinton!

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Another Empty Post

Having spent a quite busy morning in the museum, managing to work the till with no mistakes today, I was aware of an increase of traffic caused by the 'Christmas shop.'  People sauntered around checking prices, sifting through the sale items, and sometimes buying things.  A good morning, in spite of staff shortages, a day when all the right people wandered in.  
Some even came to visit the museum or the old photo exhibition.  Looking at old pictures of your home town is a strangely interesting occupation.  To remember how it was twenty, fifty or even a hundred years ago, though few remember that far back, is a pleasure to many.  Several have noted their own house under long gone previous ownership, their church or school, and certainly the shops that once filled their homes with furniture, foodstuffs or toys.  The long gone staff are remembered, sometimes relatives are observed and memories flow.  It has been a happy exhibition so far.  
One man however had a different object in view.  He was looking for info regarding his ancestor who died in 1918 somewhere in Belgium.  Alas I had little on him and have spent a while searching for more info.  Not counting the time I fell asleep I have been thus occupied for hours. At least I have more idea of the canal the poor fellow may well have been wounded fighting over. It is possible he was wounded and died a few days later but of course unless we find actual details, which is unlikely, we may never know.   
The picture was taken a few days ago, I placed it there to remind me what the sky looked like before the clouds arriving then blocked out the sun and turned all around a gray colour.  The cloud cover increases the temperature but a smiling weather man cheerfully told me tonight it will freeze on Friday.  I switched him off!  Bah!
  

Some Christmas Shopping Cheer!

Hard Research

I enjoy this research into things.  had I not been so inept I would enjoy it more by discovering relevant info on what I am studying.  The building shown for instance, this began way back in the 
Tudor days of the 16th century.  It is possible this was amended in the 1700's by one Benjamin Allen.  He obtained the house when he took over the doctors practice from the late Dr Draper, although he may not have moved in until he married Drapers daughter.  Whether this was a condition of the practice is not known.  Each century leads to alterations with such houses and this was no exception.  The shop was pictured in 1900, at a time when cycling was popular, with those who could afford a bike.  The front has been amended again and the building now houses the 'Constitutional Club, a Conservative Party club.  From the rear it is possible, just to see the ancient timber frame plastered original design.

My problem has been the lack of time.  To search the web, scrabble for tiny fragments of information takes for ever.  The sad fact is not enough real info is at hand.  It requires sensible searching in proper places.  Still I will see what I can do and we will attempt to make something for the museum to stimulate interest in these ancient buildings.  Most by the way began with timber frames as this area has no stone as such.  Trees abounded so timber frames and weatherboarding is noted everywhere.  The growing wealth of individuals and the town in general brought alterations constantly to these buildings. I wish they would improve the windows on mine!

The top picture originates with this postcard that I have come across occasionally on the web.  About 1900 according to the dress sense, the stall and the horse dropping in the middle of the road.  The buildings housing the Constitutional Club at that time have been replaced with late 1950's austerity brick and modern shop fronts.  One gas lamp outside the club lights the street here!  Possibly shop lights would help, shops may have closed later then, and most folks knew the way home.  I must collect at least a dozen if not more, decent blurbs on these premises.

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Lost Relatives

I have spent much of this week in a daze.  Another of those bugs has been irking me and my concentration levels have been low.  A pain as I had the museum meet on Monday and found myself involved with preparations for the 2014 centenary of the Great War.  The bug meant I ate little so was quite content to play couch potato and sit at this brute of a laptop and look for dead soldiers, some of whom I actually found. (By found I do not mean I discovered a dead soldier in the back garden, I mean a record of his death.  I know one or two of you are a bit slow.....)  However I was dragged out to the museum to discover I had been volunteered for more work.  How nice I thought, although I am yet to be let into the secret as to what this entails.  I hope it's not brain work, I tend to fail at that.     

Tonight however as the bug had worn off, I decided to eat without burning the chips (yes oven chips can be burnt) and look for dead relatives.  My granddad married grandma when both had been widowed.  Three kids she left as he drunk too much and for this reason dad, and my aunt, rarely if ever spoke of him.  I think it made my dad very family orientated later.  Aunt Annie did allow some information eventually, but she was always very careful with what she revealed.  It appears two previous sons may have taken poison, but I wonder?  I looked tonight in all the (free) places where info might arise and found nothing.  Plenty of relevant names to be found, all the wrong ones, and almost all in the US!   

I did however go through that strange emotion again of wondering about the lives of those who went before.  Each link brought information which while irrelevant made me wish to wander off down alleyways into stories untold, well to me at least.  It was as I allowed my mind to wander through the grimy smoke filled streets of the past that I realised my chips were done, well done.  I think I will have salad tomorrow....

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