DULLNESS OF LIFE

The Home was set in forty acres of grounds; to the adults this should be enough for any child. For us there were other views. There were plenty of areas to play ball and similar games; there were plenty of areas if we were interested in chasing games, two large woods, while not large enough to get lost in, some of the younger children if left alone, could become frightened.

There was also a play area with various items of outdoor play equipment to challenge all age groups. Most of the items had traditional methods of use; we soon invented other ways of using the equipment. The slide was to be climbed up on the smooth metal surface. Once at the top you climbed over the edge and slid down the supporting poles. It was wise never to be the first down the slide; often a pool of pee was at the lower end where the slide levelled out. This was intended for the girls; it was the only time we agreed with the saying ‘girls first’.

However once you were in the Home and these were all soon conquered, ones mind soon was set on matters that if you were caught at, there would be trouble. The orchard was out of bounds. For most of the year, if there were any apples on the trees they were not ripe enough to eat. When they did become ready to eat, the nearest trees turned out to be cookers. It was only at the furthest location were there any dessert apples, but the risk of going that far often was simply too great. If spotted by the groundsmen you would be chased away. If the Governor caught you then it would be worse.

The incinerator was another magnet for boys. Playing with fire was too much of a risk according to the adults, but if we were left alone most of us were sensible enough not to get hurt. It was only the daft few who wanted to practise fire walking in the hot embers and ruining what they were wearing that could bring regular adult attention to the area that spoilt it for the rest of us. Going into buildings we were not meant to be in was another pastime. To most of us, an unlocked door was an invitation to enter.

The railway line that ran at the far side of the Home was the main London line. Although there was only a low fence separating us from the line, all knew it was stupid to be on that part of the railway. For most of us, it was the small little-used line nearby that became our haunt. With few trains, once you were out of sight of the Home you were safe.

One dangerous part was the very high bridge carrying the railway over a main road. The dare was to go to the edge of the parapet and look over. If any of us had fallen, there was the certainty that you would not be returning to your flat. There was one thought that possibly stopped us from doing any foolish acts, it was down to a small cemetery in the grounds of the Home; we knew where we would end up.

Dropping small stones from the top of the bridge whilst trying to hit the top of vehicles was a very stupid pastime, but to us there seemed to be no harm in our pea-sized bits of gravel. If it had been explained, that such a small item when dropped from a great height could have devastating results if it hit a windscreen, we might have resisted that form of play. It was down to our bad timing that when the stone had dropped the required distance, our target had long since passed beneath the bridge.

The woods and far grass field solved my boredom; it was somewhere to pass time before we had to go in. If the Home had possessed a supervised library or quiet building where things could have been made, then many hours of my time could have been spent without getting into trouble.

Some of the younger children might have been a little afraid of going into the woods alone; even the large grass fields could be upsetting to them at times. The long grass was a haven for rabbits. In an ideal world, they would have soon made a run for it when we approached. Because of the overpopulation in rabbits a few years earlier, a disease had been introduced to keep their numbers in order. Often whilst at play we would come across a dead rabbit. On occasions it might be one that had died some time ago and was slowly rotting away. To a few older boys, a dead rabbit was a plaything. All were wise enough not to actually handle one of these; however, a long stick, a little thought, and a dead rabbit could be made to fly.

From time to time, various activities were organised. The results might be a rather waste of time but it could solve boredom. Basket weaving was not normally an activity to interest boys, but the thin cane rather than raffia did have a use; the offcuts, when in pieces a few inches long could be smoked. With a general shortage of cigarettes, boys could experiment with many substitutes. It was not really for the smoking aspect, but as it involved fire then I was interested. Eventually the adults found out what was happening, the ends of each long length of cane were now painted, and when you came to an end of a section, you had to ask for any excess to be cut off. This was then removed and taken from us, and our objects took on a speckled appearance where the start ends of the canes were more visible. The basket making seemed to end a little later when most of the members did not return for future meetings.

Hot summer days were possibly the most boring; even the keen footballers found little interest in kicking a ball about and quiet organised games of cricket were never bothered with. Huddled in small groups, most of our time was spent planning our next deeds. If anyone had a magnifying glass then the long dry grass was an ideal place to lurk. We never managed to set fire to large areas, but several scorched patches were occasionally found. Burning initials onto the soles of one’s shoes or trying to imitate versions of animal tracks as found on the soles of some of our shoes when they were new,  was a short-lived craze. This pastime ended when members of the group returned indoors and were found by the Sisters, with various artistic images burnt into the flat sides of their wellingtons. For once, I had the sense not to allow my clothing to be damaged in such a way.

At times, we appeared not to be at fault. The cricket pavilion just sort of caught fire. It was exciting to watch the fire brigade come and put it out. It was easy for the children to be the main cause, but apparently we were all innocent or everyone had a very good alibi. Days after the fire, the remains of the pavilion became a plaything, with an unlimited supply of charcoal to draw on the concrete area. Those of us not interested in cricket or football, thought that perhaps we now made better use of the building. If anyone had wanted to have fun setting fire to the remains of the pavilion, they would not really have done any harm. I quite liked the smell of damp burnt wood. Our use of the charcoal ended when a member of the staff decided that our drawing on the ground was naughty, and that we should receive the slipper over the matter.

BULLIES

Bullies came in two groups. There were the ones that thought it was fun to make a smaller or younger child’s life a misery, and the other sort that might be helping someone else even up a score. If you had older friends or means of rewarding a bully it was quite easy to get an enemy sorted out. Often your foe would never know it was you who caused their misery.

Telling an adult about such actions was never any good; later on when the wrongdoer had been punished the accuser would be dealt with. I had the advantage of being a fast runner. Often labelled a coward I could often outrun my pursuer and let easier targets be found. If you did tell on someone and the staff found them innocent, you would be punished instead, and would later receive a thumping from the boy who had been found innocent.

Firework night could allow bullies to have fun under the cover of darkness. A large bonfire and firework display was arranged in the grounds each year. For several weeks we scrounged all form of burnable material for the bonfire. If the groundsman helped, it was by diverting the rubbish that would normally have gone to the incinerator, to our pile.

The adults thought we should not possess any fireworks. The older boys managed to obtain bangers from friends at school, and then would sell them at a slight profit to younger boys, allowing more fireworks to be purchased. During daylight hours, we experimented with the bangers by taking them apart and piling the contents up, before having the courage to light the loose gunpowder without getting singed; or accepting the dare to hold a banger in your gloved hand whilst someone lit it.

On the actual night we started off in the family groups, but soon after the bonfire was lit, the older boys started to drift away from their own group. Their fun would be with the remaining fireworks; letting them off behind unsuspecting younger children was their idea of fun, and in the darkness they could not be identified.

The only injury I experienced was not my fault. An older boy had a firework that was a rather feeble Roman candle you could hold in your hand; this showered a fairly meek spurt of sparks out of the end; rather one of the more elaborate type that had to be put in the ground. Totally bored with his few seconds of fun, it was decided to see if the firework could provide more enjoyment for him. The end was not hot, only warm to the touch. Stuffing it inside the leg of my wellington was a minor prank. Had the firework been completely finished it would have only caused slight discomfort. In its inverted position, one final burst of sparks was the result.

One of the other Sisters came to my rescue. It was not long before I was in the hospital at the Home, with all the others who had been injured that night. The main injuries seemed to be burns from sparklers. The Nursing Sister with many years experience was always ready and waiting for the stream of minor injuries that visited her.

My injury seemed to tie for worst of the night with a boy who had been hit with a piece of burning wood. As he needed more urgent attention, once my charred sock had been peeled off my leg and the inside of my wellington, I was sat on a chair with my foot in a large bucket of cold water. Within a short time I was given full attention by the Nursing Sister; it was at this moment that Sister arrived. There was more pain from her telling off than from the Nursing Sister putting a dressing over my burn. Not wanting to get anyone in trouble, it was easier for me to admit that I had been foolish with fireworks rather than someone had caused the accident. The only punishment was that next year I would be staying indoors, and not going to the firework party. Once in the flat, it was bed before the others arrive back. The following day it was returning to the Nursing Sister for a fresh dressing. Not making a fuss over the matter seemed to end the event.

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Continued

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