One of the residents at Glenmoor House I've had the the great privilege of meeting is James Smith. James has so many fascinating stories to tell from his experiences as, among other things, a Marine and a prison officer, and for the next few posts I'm going to share some of these. I hope you enjoy them as much as I did...

I was born in Bradbury, Cheshire, on 28^th April 1924. We lived at 2, The Cottages.  I went to the infant school there, and the secondary modern was next door, over the big wall. I didn’t pass the 11+ to get into the grammar school so I went to the local school, until I was fourteen.

My first job was in a grocer’s shop, and I worked there, clad in a white coat. The adventurous part for me was cycling to work along the tow path.

I weighed sugar and flour, and two days a week I took orders from the local villages in the rural areas of Cheshire and Derby. There were hills and sometimes I’d push the bike going up, but otherwise it was round the bends and down the hills, across viaducts, along the river, the basket piled high with deliveries. For a young man who loved speed it was wonderful.

Soon I moved to another shop, a high class grocer this time, so I had a smarter coat, and I was a shop assistant.  You start where you are in society and move up from there. I packed the groceries and I engaged with the cheese, Cheshire, Lancashire and a large Stilton that I cut with a wire. It was two shillings and sixpence more in wages.

Some houses that I had to deliver to would have a dog at the gate. One of them had a Great Dane. The lady at my shop used to have bags of broken biscuits that she saved for the children and I would keep these and give them to the dog so I could get to the door. The butcher and the gardener would ask, “How did you get there?”

It seemed like the size of the dog reflected the ascendancy of the family- the bigger the dog, the higher up or richer the family. This is the way life was.

Then one day two plain clothes police officers came and took the manager away. He’d stolen some money, so he was sacked and sent to prison, Strangeways, I think. He had to give up his house and move away when he got out. We sent him letters of condolences.

Next I got a job as a labourer at Woodford Aerodrome. There was an Irish gaffer, and I made tea and got their fish and chips and pie. I was allowed to keep the money that was left over. After that I was a van boy delivering cotton reels and paper and shellac packed in huge baskets to the mills all over Cheshire and Lancashire. They were placed in the van in offloading order. I’d go with Percy the van driver. The lady in the office would give us tomorrow’s route by 4pm, and we’d check it on the map. Manchester, Ashton, Underlime, Liverpool, Preston, big mills.

For lunch we’d have ham or lamb with apple pie for dessert, or sometimes fish cakes, chips and peas, and big pottery mugs of tea. Sometimes when the engine got hot, we stopped and waited for it to cool down. We’d go into a greasy spoon and have bacon butties and chips.

Then the war started and everything changed…

-JAMES

Weddings and Work

Today the ladies shared memories of their working lives, how they met their partners, and even a wedding...

I used to work at the clothing factory, for Aquascutum. I did everything. Studding, making trousers, later I was at the silk factory. During the war I went to Finedon, then when it was over they moved us back again.

I met my husband at the pub, when I was twenty one. I’d seen him at the dance before. We weren’t married till four years later because we didn’t have the money.

-HILDA

I was at the steelworks when I met my husband. I didn’t think it was for life. He was smaller than me.

-KITTY

After I left school I stayed at home till I was eighteen. My dad wouldn’t let me work before then, he just wanted to protect me. There were so many forces and that around, you see. They were nice years for me.

Janet, second from right, with ladies from the shop

What a lot of girls did was get service in a big house, but I got a job in a shop. I had to cycle seven miles to the nearest village, but that was a lovely time. It was like I had broken free.

Then a boy called Norman wrote me a letter.  Dear Ginger. I was the only girl in the village with red hair. He must have seen me going up and down to the bank and took a shine to me. I was supposed to meet another boy, but he left a letter for me at the shop where I worked.  He put his address on the back of the envelope so I could write back. So I went to meet him and I recognised him. He was wearing a donkey jacket and boots. We had a pleasant evening at the pictures. The lady in my shop said, “If you’ve got your eye on him and are going out with him, don’t go out of the town lights.” I said, “I haven’t got my eye on anyone.”

Norman was a bricklayer and my Dad warned me against him, saying he won’t be well paid. But Dad said he was polite alright, nice and kind. Norman took me to meet his mum the first Sunday. She was the kindest lady. It keeps me going to think about her.

He got called up to do his military service though, so I waited for him to come back from Hong Kong and then we were married. We had a service in a church. I used to go that church with my mother in law, so I knew the vicar.

It was a beautiful day, a lovely wedding. Everything went swimmingly. The trains were on strike, though, so my aunty couldn’t come. We went to Yarmouth on a taxi, and we were happy.

Later we lived in the big house by the side of a river with a field next to it, on the Melford Road. We rented a room, a big room with a little kitchen on one side of it. I took my own furniture.

When I was having my baby the lady of the manor sat up with me from Saturday night to Tuesday morning.  I thought it was marvellous of her.

They were a happy family, a kind family. Her name was Mrs Hatchett, and he was her second husband. He made marvellous things for people, he was an architect and always in his shed in the bottom of the garden. When I had my boy he came in with the first rose of summer for me. His wife said I don’t even get one and I’ve had five children.

When I was going to have the baby I said I’ll have to go to the hospital but she said over my dead body. You’re staying here, in one of the boys’ rooms. The son kept asking has Janet got a baby yet? He looked in Woman’s Own. Danny was the youngest. He was a sour faced boy and one day he tied the bucket to the dog’s tail. One pound a week with gas, and I did a few jobs for them. I wish we could have stopped there.

We came to Corby then, to get a house and for work. We couldn’t afford to buy a house in Sudbury, and we were told we’d get a house quicker if we moved here. We had a happy life. Norman would do anything for anybody. People would always come and ask him for help. “Norman, are you working today?” We were married for fifty years before he died.

-JANET

Beautiful Janet on her wedding day

Childhood

Many of us have fond memories of our childhood and school days, and in this post the Glenmoor residents look back at some of theirs, reminiscing about friends, games and chocolate...

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At the beginning of the war I was in Walthamstow. The school was only there in the afternoon because we shared the school premises, and every other Saturday. We had two evacuees in our house. Peter Watts, and someone Noble. After the war we had a reunion, in Wood Green in North London. Then we met at Aunt Elsie’s funeral in London. We stayed in touch.

-ALAN

I had the cane for dictation. I always failed.

-KITTY

I got the strap at school for talking going up the stairs. I left school at 15 and went to work in a dry cleaner’s, cleaning overalls. Then I left to work for the admiralty, and later at the munitions sorting out guns.

-HILDA

I had a friend whatever school I went to. We read books under the trees. They were lovely summers. Then when the sirens went off we ran towards the shelters, and all fell over each other. We played old fashioned games, skipping ropes and things. It was a little school but my God they taught you. I left at 14 and stayed at home till I was 18. I loved school. I moaned about leaving, why couldn’t I stay? My brother stayed on but he didn’t like school. He took days off. He’d rather be off driving somebody’s tractor. When the officer checked the registrar he couldn’t answer where he’d been.

I remember the time when me and my friend Christine got an old fashioned wheelchair, a basket chair with one handle, and we went down the hill, next to the church, between two fields with sheep in. We had hilarious fun with that old chair. Christine was in it, she was as light as a feather, and I was pushing it down the hill, going faster and faster, and she was laughing so much she fell out and wet herself! I laughed all the way home but she was cursing me!

Then there was a young chap who was staying at the farm, learning about the dairy. He got a pain in his stomach, appendicitis, poor Ted. He was only eighteen but he looked like a man to me, at that time.

“I’ve got a box of chocolates I’ve finished,” he said. He was getting his pyjamas ready for the ambulance and he was going to throw the empty box on the woodpile, but he thought I might like it. “It’s ever such a pretty box. Do you want it?” Me being a little girl, I loved ribbons and bows so I took it. When I opened it to take the paper out I found there was still a layer of chocolates underneath. I was astonished. I shouted up to his window and told him. “Bring it back then,” he said, but I never did. I ate them myself. He went off to the hospital anyway.

The first bag of crisps I ever had, I remember that. The salt fell on the carpet because I tore the sachet in the wrong place. Mum sent me to the pub to get them. She was pleased I got in the door before the bomb dropped. It would have sent us sky high.

(JANET)