|
The story told here is taken from his story on the Internet and has kindly
been allowed to be reproduced here by his relation Greg Ash. His First
World War years are highlighted in italics. Although the photo
reproduced here is recorded as being H. Ash - Greg thinks that it is not
a good likeness and is possibly not him.
Full link to his story [including photos] can be found on the internet.
The Story of Henry Sydney Ash, 1898-1986
An account of my remembered life through the Victorian, Edwardian and
George 5th periods and my childhood times, and through to the later
years of manhood and succeeding reigns of Edward 8th, George 6th and
Elizabeth 2nd[1].
My first impression was of my Mother standing me on a table to dress me
and her crying while she was doing it. Then being taken for a ride on my
Uncle Syds[2] shoulders to the railway station. It must have been the
South African war he was off to and I don't remember seeing him again
for the war seemed to drag on, till I was 4 or 5 years old. He was my
Mothers favourite brother, and I saw him then in his uniform and rifle,
and I had another ride on his back. It was the opening day of the new
electric tramway from the city to Merton and Mitcham. The car was
illuminated with electric lamps and flags and crowds lined the both
sides of the road and cheered the drivers and passengers.
My Father worked at Woolwich Arsenal so we lived then in Vauxhall
Gardens quite close to the bridge and where we used to catch the boat to
Woolwich. He was also a chorister at Southwark Cathedral, and a
cricketer for the "Mitcham Wanderers" and as we lived quite close to the
"Oval" I was taken there very often to watch the games. I remember one
day he came to tell me that I was nearly 6 years old, and would have to
go to school, so he took me to St. Marks school at the oval, and it was
a C of E school, and it was still being used up to the 1960 years. Denis
[3] and I had been to the Test Match, and when we came out at 6.30 pm
and I showed him the school, he went to the school house and rang the
bell, asking whether his father could look over it, as it was there he
started. They gave us permission and I recognised the old rooms after
all those years. When I told them about Trafalgar Day 1905 and I, in a
sailor suit my Mother had made specially from the schools instructions,
about 10 or 12 of us, all in sailor dress, marched from the school to
"Trafalgar Square" for the Centenary Celebration service, which I am
sorry to say I don't remember much of. But on the way home again we
passed the site of the Civic Hall which was then in the course of
building, they had only got some of the foundations done and there was a
nice pool of water with planks of wood floating on it, and of course we
tried riding on these planks and made a sorrowful mess of our white
sailor suits, of course my parents were upset seeing me come home in
that state but for a long time after that I was called "Sailor" by my
playmates.
I haven't said much about my Fathers and Mothers families. My Father was
the son of Edward Ash of Clerkenwall Rd. and he had married a Dutch girl
[4].
It appears they both died soon after he was born and he was adopted by
his Aunt Julie, another sister, Dutch of course, who had married another
engineer who worked at "Shand Masons"[5] Blackfriars Bridge. It was
called Upper Ground St and they had a wharf on the Thames there. They
also had a family of 3 daughters so I expect they were pleased enough to
have the son of her sister to live with them. These 3 girls called the
Dixon Sisters were on the stage doing a song, dance and vaudeville act.
When you realise, that in those days there was no picture houses, no
television or wireless, competition was rather severe on the stage, so I
remember one day being taken to Upper Ground St as the girls were
leaving for America to try their luck there. At the party my Mother told
me to sing a song, and I remember I wouldn't do it, till they put a
pinafore over my head so that I couldn't see them all. I never saw or
heard of these three sisters again, but I shouldn't be surprised they
left behind descendants.
I have said that my father used to play cricket with "Mitcham Wanderers"
and he used to take me with him when they played at home, which was
Mitcham Green. My Uncle Syd lived at the side of the green, and there I
enjoyed my tea, and as he was a postman knew all the district. He was
also an artist and had painted a picture of Mitcham Church and in the
tower of the church he had put a real watch, which he let me play with,
watching me like an uncle would do. The family name of my Mother was
Francis but all of Uncle Syd's family were in the building line,
bricklayers, carpenters etc and for all I know may still live in the
district. There was one of the family with a son called Charlie Francis
who I met quite a lot, for he sometimes came to stay with us when we
lived at Clapham or Brixton. I do know that when the 1st World War came
he joined the K.R.R's [6] and was in France with them.
My Father was 29 when he met and married my Mother, she was a widow
named Jones nee Francis and had two children, Lily aged 6 and a boy
Cecil 4. That was in Jan 1894 and he was then a foreman at a Woolwich
Arsenal subsidiary, the "Projectile" Stewarts Rd Battersea and he was
nearly always on torpedoes. So we moved from Vauxhall to Clapham, in a
nice big house with a very long garden. I remember there was a tall
Mulberry tree close to a summerhouse and I used to get on the roof and
so into the Mulberry tree. One day my Father was digging a hole for a
post, as he was building a chicken house, and there he was when I went
to look, standing in a tunnel which went a long way across a field, he
wouldn't let me explore it, but said it was most likely an old
watercourse. Our house too was a great big place with a coach house on
the side.
The kitchen was so big I could ride my bike round it, another big room
was the parlour where my Mother had her grand piano and on it taught my
sister, Lily, to play and sing, in fact all of us had to have our
regular lessons. My Father and Mother both being singers it was quite
the usual thing on Saturday and Sunday nights there were solos or
choruses all the time, and of course plenty of drink on the go as they
said it was such thirsty work singing all the time. But I suppose before
the drinking became too regular us younger children were packed off to
bed. Sometimes we found that the bed was full to overflowing because
some of the party downstairs weren't capable of going to their homes.
I had left St. Mark's school Kensington and oddly enough found myself at
St. Mark's school Brixton which was a much bigger school and men
teachers instead of women, I think it was Form 4 I liked most, as the
teacher there gave me a great kindness and would have me read properly.
At these church schools there used to be a "Country Holiday Fund" to
which every Monday you took a card and some money, which Mother always
sent, so that the child could have a holiday, 2 weeks in real country
homes, among cows and fields galore to play in. Sometimes it would be in
Norfolk, another time nearer home like Godalming in Surrey. But it meant
a nice train journey and we were finally delivered to our new homes for
the fortnight. Another thing about church schools was the various jaunts
we were taken to, such as Hampton Court, Tower of London, I remember
going as far as Arundel Park and the castle all in one day. There were
no coaches on the roads in those days, so it was tram, train and walking
that got you to where you wanted to go.
I was getting to know my way around Brixton thoroughly what with a bike
or skates. It was fairly easy at school which I liked very much, I was
doing quite well, and at term time I got prizes for my work in general,
but most I think for History or Scripture. It was about this time that
my sister Lily was apprenticed to chocolate making at Pascal's factory
at Merton, and each Friday night now when she came home we kids would
fight for her overall which she used to spill chocolate on specially for
us to scrape off before it was washed. Then when her probationary period
was over she used to bring home a bag of 'seconds', that is 'throw outs'
from the sorting. Then some time later on, my brother Cecil had a
Saturday job at a greengrocers and after a time I was allowed to go with
him. The job was taking round baskets of fruit and vegs which customers
ordered at the shop, but were too tired to take home themselves. To
anyone reading this it is obvious that it was a decided advantage to
have older half sister and brother to help with us younger brood, as
there was me and my Bert and Reg and Vi with about 2 years in between
us.
The house we lived in now was in "Acre Lane" Clapham Park. It was
another big old house with many rooms and a long garden with a fishpond
in it. They were houses built for gentlemen who I suppose worked in the
city. But about now while I was about 10 years old, there was another
brother, Leslie, a baby of about 1 year and he had meningitis. My father
was evidently drinking too much, but he was now Under Works Manager at
the Projectile and my half brother Cecil was an apprentice there.
One day towards Christmas as I was coming home from school, I had to
pass the fire station at Clapham Common, they were just turning out,
just horses they were in those days, and it wasn't very hard to go in
the wake of the fire tenders and things. It was "Harding and Hobbs" a
big store at Clapham Junction, which by the way is still there today.
The fire started in the bottom shop fronts which was all dressed out in
cotton wool, like snow. It was blazing and I suppose the fire soon
spread to all floors. I saw girls and women jumping from windows but I
remember there was about 12 deaths. It was very late that night when I
finally reached home, tired out and hungry. Things were in an uproar as
I got inside, my Mother had lost the baby with meningitis and they
thought they had lost me too. So we were in trouble all that Xmas.
We moved house again shortly and I found I was going to another C of E
school in Larkhill Rise which I enjoyed very much, as I seemed to enjoy
all class work and won more prizes. Very soon my Father gave me a pair
of roller skates and I was skating all over Clapham and Brixton, up to
the city where I had to go to Gt. Ormond St. Hospital for adenoids. My
half sister Lily had been promoted to Pascals shop in Oxford St and I
used to go there and watch these girls who sat in view of passers by
making chocolates, it was there that she met her future husband Syd
Marley who used to go there to watch her at work. About 3 or 4 shops
away there was a pet shop with live monkeys in the window and I spent
many an hour watching them whenever I was up that part of the city. I
think in that way got very used to wandering anywhere even as far a
field as Mitcham and Croydon. But I suppose in time my skates wore out,
or my shoes wore out too quickly for my Father so he set me up with an
old bike, and of course I could go much further a field to my Uncle
Syd's at Mitcham or to my Aunts in Blackfriars. Not far away from where
we lived was the Brixton Skating Rink, the Brixton Theatre, the Empress
Brixton where we kids would watch the door keeper to the gallery and
when he went off to "the Prince of Wales" pub, then rush up the steps
and be seated in no time where I watched all the stars of vaudeville
such as "Dan Leno", "Harry Lauder", "6 Brothers Luck", "The Military
Maniacs" and once Jack Johnson, the black heavyweight boxer, and a
famous singer Marie Lloyd. Then just over the way was the Brixton
Theatre with plays and Pantomime till I made my way home to bed and a
good talking to for staying out late.
There was a tobacconist shop on the Brixton Rd where I used to stand
outside collecting fag cards [7] from the men as they came out. One day
as I stood there a man popped his head up from manhole in the road and
beckoned to me, he said would I get him some tobacco, on taking it to
him I looked down the hole, and it was just like an underground station,
so I asked him if I could go down and have a look around, he said yes
come on and so I saw my first underground sewer. It was all white tiled
bricks with electric lights and platforms either side of a central
drainway. He told me it was the River Effra from all the district hills,
like Norwood Hill, Tulse Hill, Brockwell Park etc that took all the
storm water to the Thames at Blackfriars or Battersea.
My Father was still at the Projectile and had been Under Manager there
now for some while and it was there I was going to be apprenticed when I
was old enough. My brother Cecil was already there. They made shells and
torpedoes for Woolwich Arsenal and as the year was about 1911 or 12
there was quite a lot of overtime and night work. [8] I think it was
about this time that my Mother said she was taking me to see some
relatives who lived at Brighton. They were Edward Ash who had 2 shops in
the Old Kent Rd and had retired from business to live at Brighton. Well
we went and was introduced to the family, and at night time returned
home to London, but I never heard of any reward for our trip.
About that time too there was much uproar about the new giant ship
"Titanic" which struck an iceberg and went down with over 1000 people on
board.
I was doing much better at school now and one master; Mr. Moore made
quite a fuss of me in various school subjects. Time went on and I got
about London on my skates to all different parts or would be busy on my
old bike, getting it ready in the garden shed for my next long trip out
somewhere. One evening I saw some apples in a garden, quite close to
Lambeth Town Hall, I went in and started helping myself. The man came
out and caught me but was very kind and gave me a bag to take some home.
But then came more bad news. My Father had an unexpected caller in his
office who was an H.M. Inspector and found my Father drunk at work. He
was given a month to resign his position and leave the Company. Well in
another month or two I should have started my apprenticeship, which was
cancelled. Finally I left school with no prospects at all. But one day
my Father said he was taking me up to Peterborough to see an old friend
of his and it turned out to be Johnson Works at Peter Brotherhoods Ltd.,
a subsidiary Co. of Vickers, and the work was entirely naval guns,
Torpedoes with all the attendant machinery for air compressors, turbines
etc. Well I was taken up there again to be sworn in as a premium
apprentice with the usual sponsors (Father was one), policeman and
witnesses. Then we went off to find lodgings, and I found myself with
the coachman of Werrington Hall, and the charge was 7/6d a week with
full board etc. The landlady was very good and looked after me well, but
I found it a terribly hard job to get up at 5 in the morning so as to be
clocking on at 6. Then at 8.15 we knocked off for B'fast which we had in
the dining hall, a very big place, and was used as a sports hall at free
times. Dinner was at 12.30 and I had to take my basket which the
landlady gave me full up for B'fast and Dinner. Then at 5.30 the hooter
blew for knocking off work and everybody streamed home to tea. I was
paid 5/- per week for the first six months and a shilling rise for each
succeeding 6-month. I was taken first to the drawing office where I had
to take around the different items asked for in the works, in that way
one got acquainted with the whole works and different shops. Then I had
6 months in the Tool Stores and Tool room, learning all the time about
conduct, observation, and methods. Then from there to the turbine shop
where my first job was fitting the blades into the wheels and then the
shrouding around the blades to keep them in position. Then I had some
time on expansion Turbines where I was joined by Bill Vernon, a life
long friend he turned out to be. [9] He was a schoolboy of Oundle and
had just lost his Mother and his Father was the manager of the Theatre
Royal in Peterboro' but spent a lot of his time at Brighton where there
was another Theatre Royal. So Bill was in lodgings the same as me only
he was in town and I in Werrington. So I left there and found lodgings
in Mayors Walk with a Mrs. Hucklesby who had a son (Bill) apprenticed at
Brotherhoods. He joined Bill and I and we spent all our spare time down
at a back mill wash, where Bill's Father had an old houseboat moored.
There was a 15ft. punt too. So in the springtime of the New Year we went
down there to see how things were, and the houseboat had sprung a leak
and was half full of water. That upset our plans completely, so I asked
my Fitter Frank Albins what to do about it all and he got blocks and
pulleys and ropes (borrowed from the shop foreman) and we all went down
to the boat, and after a lot of hard work and soakings with the water,
we got her up on the bank. Then the next job was repairs and it took
quite a bit of time before we were ready to launch her again and prepare
for our summer holidays aboard. But our repairs hadn't been good enough
and the next time we went down there the boat was half full of water
again. So we decided that the best thing to do would be to take the punt
and camp out on an old island nearby. That's what we did and the year
was 1914. We were down there for Easter and Whitsun.
Its a queer thing but about that time I was moved into a new job, it was
4" naval gun sights, a new departure for Brotherhoods, and my Fitter was
a man named Bill Desboro, who was a very highly skilled workman but used
to go on the beer quite a lot. Also in the shop was another apprentice
"Ernie Taylor", who was in the City Military Band and I used to go with
him to practices at the Royal Oak pub, on Peterboro' Market place. Ernie
was also a pupil of Dr. Hagdon of Peterboro' Cathedral and I used to go
there with him to practices and sometimes Dr. Hagdon wouldn't turn up so
I took my turn helping the blower. We got on very well together, and as
you will see we joined the army together later on in the year.
Bill Vernon, Bill Hucklesby and I spent Easter and Whitsun down the
river but for the summer holidays I decided to cycle home to London, and
got the bike all ready for the trip of about 80 miles. When the holidays
came round off I set, the weather was very good and I had no trouble at
all to Hitchin, and going down the hill there, my front tyre, a beaded
tyre, got off the wired rim and tore the inner tube to ribbons. I had no
money to buy another so I tried riding on the bare rim but I couldn't
stand that for long, so I found a nice haystack and spent the night
under the stars. I left the bike there and started on the 33 miles walk
to London getting an odd lift here and there. I remember coming into
Kingsway and then a short cut through to Blackfriars where my Aunt
lived. I don't remember much about my arrival but when I woke up, there
was my Father and Mother at my bedside. The best thing about the whole
business was that they were so pleased with me that I got a brand new
bike for my Birthday present. So after the holidays were over I found
myself back at work.
I was moved at this time to a new job in the Fitting Shop with a man
called Frank Albins and we were to build 2 engines for the "P" class
destroyers. They were 10 x 15 x 8 inch totally enclosed engines for
coupling to a generator on a long bedplate. It was jolly interesting
work and I learnt a lot from my new Fitter. One day we had another man
join us on the work, later on that day another man came up to us, and
said "What are you doing here Alec?" " Come pack it in." So he put his
tools away and his coat on and walked out and Frank said they are
Journeymen who had just finished their apprenticeship and were out for
another job. Back at work now we had our two engines ready for the steam
test bed, where after connecting up to steam pipes, bolting down the
engines and a final inspection by the Foreman, we got them steaming all
the different trials. I loved this work and continual movement, as it
was so interesting to see the work of your hands doing all sorts of
movements.
The time passed very quietly for me and I carried on with Bill Vernon
and other friends going to the theatre with Bill or to band practice
with Ernie Taylor and some times home to London on short holidays. I was
surprised really to note that most of these highly skilled essential men
were hard drinkers, I expect the others were on the religious side or
scared of losing their jobs. Another thing that struck me was, on
Saturdays at 12 noon we were paid, and on reaching the main gates there
were crowds of women with children all searching for their husbands,
catching them for their money before they got into the pubs drinking.
The thing was that in those days they didn't do "ploughman's lunches",
but had cheese and biscuits, pickled onions and gherkins on all the
counters and made sure the customers didn't slide off home for dinner.
But as war approached, legislation was passed curbing the pub hours in
different ways, and the old Victorian and Edwardian days were over for
good. Of course the cheapness of beer and spirits was a big factor in
the career of these men and the temptation was very hard to resist when
you remember that beer was 1d a pint and a bottle of spirits 2/6 and 3/-
a bottle.
1913 was drawing to a close, and I had gone home for Christmas holidays.
One day there was a knock at the door and on Mother bringing the
gentleman into the room he caught sight of me and said, "That's him." It
appeared that 2 boys had gone into a sweet shop and while the lady was
serving them a brass balance weight was stolen from the scales. She
informed the Police and this man was a plainclothes detective "Sgt.
Smith". My Mother said "well it certainly wasn't him for he hasn't been
outside the house all day", and what struck me most was her assertion
that in any case I wouldn't steal anything. The upshot was that my two
young brothers Bert and Reg had done it, and they both got a good
talking to by the sergeant, but no more was heard of it.
We should soon be coming into 1914 and after the Xmas holiday and going
back to work I was moved to another job in a different shop altogether.
There they were on the 4" naval gun complete, platform, pedestal recoil
system, and then the sights and finally the piece and breechblock. It
was a very interesting job, as all parts mounted had to pass a W. D.
(War Dept.) Inspector who stamped each mechanism with his metal stamp. I
think the training gear was a 7 lb pull on the gear handle to go the
full circle of the gun and for the sights a 5 lb pull from depression to
full elevation 4,000 yards. We got on fine with our guns until we ran
out of cradle castings, there had been a moulders strike which caused
the shortage. I tried to get a move to some other job but no luck. We
had plenty of recoil mechanisms so started to build up a stock for when
we got going again, but then we ran out of glycerine and that put
another brake on.
One day I was talking to Ernie Taylor
and he said, "what about joining the Army". That night, Nov 1st 1914, we
went to the recruiting office of the Hunts Cyclist Battalion and after a
medical we were called up to join at Huntingdon on Nov 5th. We did just
that, but it was a proper shambles at Headquarters, as they hadn't
enough uniforms or equipment. I was lucky to get most things excepting a
hat as they hadn't got my size 7 ¼, so I used to go on parade with my
bowler hat on, and as we were training on a big field our shortness of
arms didn't show up too publicly, but our kit did. Ernie Taylor and I
were both in "C" Company and our officers were a grand lot. There was
Captain
Garne, a first class gentleman,
Lt. Boden and
2nd Lt. Marshall.
He was our half section officer and had only just left school. Him and I
got on very well and when he knew that I was a pugilist he had the
gloves on with me, and hockey was another sport I was good at and I was
in the front line out with Marshall. Christmas came and we were allowed
3 days leave. When we came back to duty there had arrived rifles and a
cycle for each man, which made life far more interesting and you could
say we were soon caught up in a heavy round of training. Ernie Taylor
and I were in the same section, and soon we were out on our bikes doing
field training. I remember once we were out Eaton Socon way (near
Huntingdon), and Ernie called on the Vicar and asked permission to see
the organ, well we went and he sat down and I started working the blower
and after a while we started on hymns until it was time to go. Well we
didn't have to wait very long, Jerry came over to the East Coast, Whitby
and Scarboro and bombarded them and caused a certain amount of damage.
The upshot was that one day, we heard that we were leaving Huntingdon
and going up to Whitby on coast defence. We were billeted in empty rooms
in boarding houses and the landlady gave us meals in the big dining
room. We had no beds to sleep in; no blankets and that lasted for about
a fortnight. We had a first class Captain, and the junior officers were
good too and they told us we would very soon have all our kit made up.
It was a very cold winter up there on the Yorkshire coast, but we were
out on our bikes most days training in patrol work, skirmishing, rifle
and general field exercises. We were at Whitby for 2 months, then
one-day orders came to entrain again for the South Coast. Later the next
day found us at Sutton on Sea, Lincs. Again we were put into empty
houses there and taken to the sand hills on the coast where we had to
dig trenches and dugouts or rather, keep what was there in maintenance,
as it was mostly dry sand dunes near the sea and high water. It was the
Marram grass that kept the whole lot together. We had to be on duty each
evening at sunset, till sunrise next day, divided up into sentries.
Headquarter Guard, and Patrols. Then we marched back to our billets, for
Breakfast and the next parade would be after we had a midday sleep.
Training continued through all this routine. But one day, one of the 4
of us in our room said he wasn't feeling very good and went on medical
parade, which culminated in us other 3 being isolated to our room for 3
weeks as he had measles. Well, that is what started me smoking; I was 16
and 7 months old (i.e., April 1915). We 4 then had all our meals brought
to our room, and then we could go out, down to the sea but not to mix
with anyone at all. So we used to go Cockeling and after crabs, which
were fairly numerous as fishing was at a standstill. Well I suppose we
enjoyed those 3 weeks isolation, and then came an order that we were to
go into camp at Alford, about 7 miles back in the Lincs Wolds. We were
doing very well now in training, arms training etc on the firing range
was the main order of the day. I was called into the Adjutants office,
when I got inside I was in front of our Colonel and he said your name is
Ash, I replied "Yes Sir". He then said, "How old are you?" I replied "19
sir". He then held out a piece of paper to me and said, "This must be
wrong then". It was my birth certificate. Of course I could not reply to
this, he then said "your Mother wants you to go home, do you want to
go?" and I said "no sir". "Right my boy! You can stay with us then!!!"
so I soldiered on. Then after about 2 months the same thing happened
again and to the Colonel I had to go. This time he said, "Your Father
has made another application for you to go home and continue with your
apprenticeship and this time you will have to go." So my days with the
Hunts Cyclist Battalion came to an end. I was to be released from the
Army, but with subsistence allowance and in uniform, so my wages rose
from 1/- a day to one pound five shillings a day, and I was quite happy
to go back to Brotherhoods.
I got back there in May 1915 and was greeted by all my old friends in
the apprenticeship line, and I was put with another Fitter named Bill
Desboro to start on a new type of job in a newly built section of the
firm. We were to start making 4" naval gun sights, and I can honestly
say we had a very hard task to perform. There was all the drawings to
gather together, the shop floor was sectioned off to take women and
unskilled men direct from the Technical and Training Schools around
Peterborough and then start them off in their respective jobs whether on
machine or work bench. There was 8 benches with 6 vices to each bench.
The women were mostly to work drilling and engraving machines. I had a
bench with a trade apprentice and the other four vices were 1
Greengrocer, 1 publican, 1 shop assistant and a good man from a sporting
gun shop in the City, named Alec Francis. Well we got sorted out in
time, and the raw materials came to be assembled when recognisable and
people started to get interested in their jobs. This Bill Desboro was a
really first class tradesman and as I was his 2nd in charge I really got
so interested that what talents I had seemed to multiply also, and
gradually the job built up and was intensifying. When we had a gun
barrel and breech block, recoil barrels, sight and elevating systems,
platform and cradle all arrive together, so that we had the complete 4"
naval gun and could now test our sights with a marked target on a wall
100 yards distance. This was all with a Government Inspector to mark and
pass our work. We were allowed a 7 lb pull of a balance for the gun
training and a 4 lb pull of a spring balance for the sights. We were
then producing the complete gun in our workshop, and in course of time I
had the advantage of getting some of my old friends, Bill Vernon, Ken
Whitwell, Bill Hucklesby in with us for their 6-month change. I elected
to stay with Bill Desboro, as the Manager said it was such an important
project of Brotherhoods. But in 1917 early on the brass cradles dried
up, so I saw Mr. Johnson the General Manager and was transferred to the
4" gun platform in the gun shop, where 8" Howitzers were made, there I
was with another fitter who was the Mayor of Grantham, when he wasn't at
work. A jolly nice chap, rather religious and conscientious and as by
then I was a Sunday school teacher at St. Mark's church, Lincoln Rd., we
enjoyed very much each others company. The war wasn't going too well at
this time as we were suffering the appalling loss of life at our push of
July 1916, besides the general stalemate of our ships at sea. But time
went on, and during this period an old friend of mine in the works,
Frank Albins introduced me to a girl on a machine in heavy machinery,
making trunnions for our 4" bedplate, Fay Smith, and I was smitten
straight away, and our acquaintance went on apace and before long I was
taking her out to dances at the Assembly rooms in Park Rd where of
course there were all my boy friends as well as Bill Vernon, Ken
Whitwell, Bill Hucklesby. Her Father was a Blacksmith on 6" crankshafts,
and also was a local preacher for the Methodists. [10]
1917 dawned and I went home and told my parents about this wonderful
girl I had found but they were not at all enthusiastic, but of course
that didn't interest me one little bit and I carried on with my courting
and getting deeply involved. Things at work didn't improve much as the
moulders strikes continued. First it was the brass cradle of the gun
carriage, then we found that the recoil chambers were drying up, they
were of brass too, as they were filled with glycerine and had to be
hydraulically tested to withstand great pressure at the start of recoil.
In the meantime we carried on with the gun platforms which were of
steel, and could stand aside till we got the cradles. All this happened
in the early months of 1917, and the was wasn't going too well for us. I
had Ken Whitwell round me quite a bit, and he was unsettled too and we
talked of joining the R.A.F. So we wrote to the war office and got
application forms, and sent them in. Ken was the first to get his papers
and off he went to Farnborough. Later on I had a letter telling me to
report to Woolwich Royal Engineers Barracks. So off I went, and the O.C.
there told me I was wanted for a trade test, and would then be posted
accordingly. The upshot was, after passing the grade 1, I was sent down
to Borden in Hampshire to join the Railway Ops. Company. On reporting
there I was put in a territorial Company and excused all parade ground
drills. So I found myself making a stream through the Colonels garden,
bevelling the sides of the dug trench of the watercourse. Then another
job was lighting fires in married quarters to air them for occupation.
Now you can imagine how chagrined I was to find myself in such a dump.
But release was on the way, as one day we found ourselves on a draft to
Salonica and kitted out for hot climate. Then off one day to Southampton
where we boarded a boat, and off we sailed, the ship was crowded and in
the morning we found ourselves in the same berth we had started from!!!
A submarine scare. We sailed the next night though and in the morning we
landed at Cherbourg. The next day we entrained 30 Hommes 10 Chevaux [11]
to a railway van and started off on our long journey to Tarranto in
Italy. It took us about a fortnight to get there, but we had several
stops at rest camps on the way. Finally we boarded a ship and sailed for
Greece which didn't take longer than a day or so, and then finally on to
a fleet of lorries which took us over the mountain ranges to Larrissa
and Salonica. A really crazy driver we had and jolly pleased we were to
finish up at a place Harnan Kew about five miles from Salonica, it was
the railway workshop for the station of Salonica and run by the French,
we were wanted there as the staff was thinned out.
So I found myself with a mate, who was originally a refreshment
attendant on the "Brighton Belle". He was a very good mate for me as he
was the perfect scrounger for getting things he wanted. We were camped
on the side of a river bridge over the Stanroso River; on the other side
was a detachment of French, in charge of a battery of French 75s to
defend the bridge from aerial attack. So my friend soon had things lined
up, he would take a lump of our meat ration, and come back with wine and
eggs or anything else he could manage. Then he would cook up whatever we
were having and provide a first class meal just for us two. In about a
month or two we were quite settled down to our nomadic type of life. We
were put on repairing engines which were used for supplies and Red Cross
trains up to the front line about 60 or 80 kilos away. There used to be
periodic visits of enemy airplanes around us, but the worst trouble for
us was the firing of these 75 mm guns but in time we got used to it all
and generally managed to sleep through it.
We were on night work one night and Jack and I were sent to another shed
to find an engine which I was to repair. As soon as we entered this shed
he said to me as he started to sniff, "can you smell anything ?". I said
no not much, so I got on with the job, and he wandered off. He came back
later to me and said "There's a bloody great truck full of barrels of
rum over there and one of them is leaking". So I went with him to see
what it was all about and he had placed an old petrol can under the leak
and he said "this will do you good, have some". I tried and said I
didn't like it, and said if you really want some lets make a proper hole
and get it out properly. So I drove a centre punch into it which I had
in my pocket and we soon had a spigot made. Jack collected some more old
tins and we took a 4-gallon tin with us back to the workshop. Well the
upshot was that all the workshop staff were soon incapably drunk, my
last impression of the shop was to see the Blacksmith stretched out on
the floor beside his anvil. The noise of this exploit soon got around
the troops and it wasn't long before the Military Police got moving.
There was an interesting sequel to this episode in about 1923. I had
been put on the reserve and was back in my job at March, working on the
railway there when one day one of the men happened to mention Salonica
and how long was I there etc. He said he was there too, but somebody had
started a barrel of rum in a shed and he went to see it and got nabbed
by the M.P's, and had a prison sentence of 6 weeks stone breaking for
doing it. His name was "Alf Berridge" and we often talked about it later
on whenever we met, as he said I was the cause of it all and he went to
prison for my sins.
There was another man in March who worked in the Loco shed as a fitter,
named W. Green, who was in the Royal Engineers in Salonica but he served
up nearer the front at Lake Doiran, pumping water from the lake into an
overhead tank for the Railway Engineers. I spent 2 or 3 days with him
when I had saved up enough free days. One day we went out in an old
rowing boat, and with a supply of Mills bombs, we did the usual thing,
hold, pull safety pin, throw. Well we waited just about 3 or 4 minutes
and gradually up came 4 or 5 trout size fish. When they were in a pan
and fried, they were really a dish for the gourmet. During this period
the war was still being carried on, but it finally finished with the
capitulation of the enemy on Sept. 29th, and we all relaxed, thinking we
would be home in a few weeks time. Well, that was a dream yet to be
realised and we had to carry on with our daily work on the locos, but
the urgency was over and more leave allowed by our officers, and we had
more than the usual visits. One of them, a Lieutenant was named Ash, and
he and I had several interesting talks about our families and their
whereabouts. In our hut we had discussions about the future and what
would become of us all. The majority of us inmates were Irish. So it was
decided that we should set about organising a dinner, and Jack went on
the scrounge, chickens made their appearance, great lumps of meat which
he got from the cook, who being invited to the dinner gave all he could
scrounge as well, so Jack took the surplus over the river to the French
camp and came back with wine and spirits, vin blanc, vin rouge and
brandy etc. We borrowed a couple of trestles and planks of wood for the
table top, plates appeared from somewhere and the whole project promised
to be a real do. Candles arrived and some sort of decorations, and
finally the day arrived for it to take place. We even asked our Captain
Bobby to preside which fortunately he did, as when the sumptuous meal
was over and the drinks were getting down fast, the Captain kept telling
us not to burn the hut down as someone suggested but to just wait a
little longer to get news of our release from the war and get home to
Blighty.
That reminds me that about that time I received a letter from my firm,
that they would be pleased to take me on as a fully served fitter when I
got home, which sounded very good to me.
Then it slowly dawned upon us that it would soon be Christmas, so we had
another dinner to prepare for, and very numerous were the different
people who wanted to come, but the hut could only accommodate about 35
so there were many who had to copy us, or do the best they could. It was
certainly a good Christmas dinner which we all enjoyed very much
excepting the continual question of when are they going to let us go
home. About a week passed, and I had to go and see the doctor, he gave
me some pills and I went back to the hut and laid down on my bed. I was
awakened to find a sick orderly putting a thermometer in my mouth. The
next thing I remember was to find myself in a tent with another chap in
the next bed, 2 to a tent, and that this was the 28th General Hospital
at Dudulat. This other chap was in a bad way, as they were going to take
his arm off as he had gangrene, and he was crying like a baby. Well I
gradually improved. [12] It appears that I had a dose of Malaria and
Dysentery, and I felt it very much when I got on the latrine and dare
not leave it. But time went on and I was fed on milk and albumen water.
I think I was in the hospital for about 3 weeks then got sent back to my
unit, when I got there I went through all my stuff and found that some
one had stolen the only golden sovereign I had ever possessed, one that
my Dad gave me before I left home for Salonica.
It was now 1919 and the war had been over for 2 months and we were still
without any knowing of our release from this place, there was very
little work done nor any parading. Then all of a sudden it happened, I
was told to report to an embarkation camp in the town. It was a camp of
the 29th Division, some of whom had been out there without leave since
the Gallipoli do, and as I was Territorial of 1914 I was under orders to
report to Purfleet Barracks when I arrived home. Of course this I was
quite ready to do. So at the next parade I reported that I was ready to
proceed and various papers were signed and documents and my A.B.64, and
I was then presented with 2 Pounds as an instalment of my pay till we
reached home. An interesting talk with a sergeant of my own Company, the
32nd R.O.D. came out with the news that we were going to be offered the
choice of signing on for a 2 year term and being sent to Anotolia in
Turkey, he said he was going to and how about myself. Well after a
little thought I said no, I wanted to go home. The upshot was that when
I was told to report to the embarkation office, arriving there with some
other troops we were told to board a troop ship, the "Seeang Bee" which
we very quickly did, and the sergeant who had said he was going to
Anotolia was on board. Well as I said the ship was loaded with
detachments of the 29th Div; the Middlesex Regiment, and a very rough
crowd they were. We were soon on our way and settled down to a long
voyage. I joined one of the Bingo schools and it wasn't long before I
saw the last of my 2 Pounds. I bought a lovely Mauser pistol, and I
thought I was on a winner. Our idea of a nice long journey home wasn't
realised. When we got to Brindisi we all had to disembark and go into
camp there which was far from our ideas, as we were to go home by the
railway to Cherbourg. I think we spent nearly a week in camp being
lectured about our behaviour on the train and also what we had to do
when we got to England. I was to be demobbed at Purfleet not far from
Woolwich. One morning on parade, we were told that anyone taking
firearms illegally into Britain would be goaled at once, so they had put
a sack in the square and we were to put all such contraband into it, so
I lost my Mauser pistol. Then another day they said who was without a
rifle would be issued with one to hand in at Purfleet. Well all us men
of the R.O.D. [13] got together to talk this over, that as we hadn't a
rifle before we would not have one thrust upon us now. Finally they
agreed to let us carry on as we were, and we didn't have to take a rifle
at all home with us to England.
At last we were to board a train, 30 Hommes and 10 Chevaux to a covered
van and so at last set off on our long trail to home. We stopped several
times at rest camps where we broke our journey, and had fresh meals
instead of bully beef and biscuits which was all we had in the train. I
suppose it took us another fortnight before we finally reached Le Havre,
where into camp again we had to go for a medical check up, and other
briefings. So it was well into March 1919 before I got to Purfleet and
then train to Peterborough and meeting all the Smith family. Fay and all
of them made a terrible fuss of me. It was good of them for at the time
of being at home again I was very poorly with Dysentery and Malaria and
had lost a lot of weight being only 8 stone odd, to the 11 stone I
usually was. But Fay's Mother said she would soon alter all that, and it
was only good food I wanted to pull me round, and how right she was, she
was a great Norfolk cook and her Yorkshire puddings simply marvellous. I
reported to Brotherhoods of my return to civvy life and they gave me a
weeks rest, and then I was to go back on my old job on 4" naval guns as
a fully-fledged fitter, even though I had been away from working there
so long. So gradually life started again, I went up to London to see my
parents and told them I was going to be married at the earliest chance
but they didn't seem interested at all and finally at the wedding I had
not one of my own family there.
Well Fay was working over at "Warwick School" as a dinner waitress and
when I could get away from work at the weekends I used to go over there
and we would go to see Warwick Castle and other places, but mainly to be
on our own, wandering over the green fields and enjoying this springtime
after the war. During this period which was of short duration, a strike
of the "Moulders Union" stopped the supply of brass castings, and
although the management stopped all production and finished the men
straight off, all ex soldiers were kept on at work, but even that
concession wasn't enough and I was finally laid off and the Sight shop
shut down [14].
My Father's handwritten narrative took the story of his life up to early
to mid 1919, and mentions his intention of marrying his Fay Smith. He
had also related an incident or two while working after the war at the
railway Loco at March, which was a small town in Cambridgeshire, about
18 miles from Peterborough.
Records show that Harry and Fay were married on the 27th June 1920 at
Peterborough, and it was sad to read that none of the Ash side of the
family attended the wedding. It would seem that Harry and Fay stayed in
Peterborough for only a short period. My elder brother Denis was born on
Dec. 11th 1921 at Peterborough, while I was born on Mar. 3rd 1926 at
March. So sometime between those two births, probably about 1923, my
parents must have moved to March in order for my Father to commence work
on the railways.
March was a very rich agricultural area of the Fens. The railways were
built on a site known as Whitemoor as part of German war reparations and
consisted mainly of a huge marshalling yard, where freight trucks were
received, re-directed and despatched all over the mid eastern part of
England. The yards were modelled on the Ham yards of Germany. Whitemoor
also had huge engine repair shops and this was where my Father worked as
a Fitter and Turner. My memories of course only start from about the
time I was four years of age or so, and at that time we were living in a
'council' house in Wisbech Rd. These were houses built by the council
and rented out to people who were not able to afford anything better.
Then in the early 1930's we moved into another rented house in a little
better quarter of the town, in Elliott Road.
A memory I have from this house is of watching my Father on one occasion
painting the doors of a garage he must have rented to house his motor
bike and sidecar, and I can remember him asking me what I wanted to be
when I grew up. My answer was probably prompted by what he was doing and
I answered that I wanted to be a Painter.
To which he replied that I could do better than that, as painters were
only paid one shilling and three pence an hour. That was pretty lowly
pay, even though I can distinctly remember my Father taking me to get a
haircut with him, and his cost 6 pence and mine cost 4 pence! Another
memory I have from this period concerns the motorbike and sidecar and I
astounded my Mother 50 years later by telling her that I could still
remember the number plate of that bike, it was CL9935. By this time our
family had grown to 5 with the addition of my younger brother Godfrey,
who was born on June 30th 1930 at March. We used to go to Hunstanton (a
coastal resort on the southern entrance of the Wash on the East coast)
on the motorbike and sidecar, with Denis on the pillion seat and my
Mother and us two younger boys in the sidecar. I can remember that on
one occasion we went there on a Saturday, and on the way home we had to
go fairly close the Royal Estate at Sandringham. So we stopped there for
a walk around the Rhododendron bushes. It got very late and as it was a
warm night the decision was made for us all to sleep out under the
bushes and go back to Hunstanton on the Sunday.
During the mid 1930's we moved into a new house that my parents had
built for them, this was luxury indeed. It was in Elm Road and was named
Allways, the same name as given to a house of the author Beverly
Nichols. There was a laundry, kitchen, dining and lounge room combined
(which we called the big room) downstairs and three bedrooms and a big
bathroom upstairs. My Father had designed the house himself and had got
it built very cheaply. (My brother Godfrey remembers that it cost about
450 Pounds [approx. 3 years of Dad's salary at that time] and that the
mortgage was paid off in 1959.) I can remember it being said that the
builder went broke over this job; this would have been at the end of the
'depression' period.
Early on in my Father's narrative he mentioned about wearing a Bowler
hat. I can remember him wearing them as well and can still picture him
setting off to work on his bike, wearing his bowler! On one occasion one
of his workmates pulled it down on his head rather forcefully and the
brim came adrift and finished up round his neck. The Ken Whitwell
mentioned earlier was also working at March loco with my Father and on
one occasion when I had to take my Father's lunch to the loco for him, I
came across the pair of them chasing each other with oily rags! However,
they did do a lot of work as well, and I had a few rides on some of the
famous trains of the day that were undergoing repair at the loco. One
was the "Flying Scotsman" and another was the 'Cock of the North', I
even got to drive one or two of them.
It seemed to me that my Father could do anything, it amazed me that he
could work all day on such a large scale as steam engines, then come
home and pull his wrist watch to pieces, what's more, get it back
together again in good working order. He did all sorts of things around
the home, such as putting up a large swing, building a work shed and
garage (for the motor bike, as my Father never owned a car in the whole
of his life!). He also built a concrete fishpond in the garden with its
own pedestal birdbath. The fishpond had goldfish in it and I was always
amazed that when summer came around and the ice cap melted, the fish
were still there swimming around. He built a glass roofed back veranda
on the house with steps leading up to it from a lawn area, and so on. He
also was a very keen gardener, and always had a well-stocked garden full
of vegetables. Potatoes, onions, beans, carrots and such delicacies as
red and black currants, strawberries and gooseberries etc.
I remember my Father from this time as rather a stern man, someone not
to be crossed in any way but who nevertheless did have a sense of
humour. However I believe it to have been a cruel humour, he was given
to utter great sarcasms and could wither one with a mere glance! He was
a great reader and one wall of the 'big room' was half filled with a
home built bookcase well stocked with all types of books. He carried his
love of reading all through his life right up to the time of his death.
One of his passions was the life of Lord Nelson, but he could discourse
quite comfortably about most subjects. The only sport I remember my
Father playing was cricket and he was in one or two of the local teams.
At one time he was Captain of the March 2nd XI team and in 1936 they
beat the 1st XI!! He did also enjoy playing cards, draughts and chess,
and taught all of us boys to play them also. He considered playing cards
to be a good teacher of numbers and a help to us in our schoolwork, and
I'm sure that he was right in that belief. One card game he really
enjoyed playing was Cribbage, and whenever I visited my parents in the
later stages of their lives I always sat down and played Crib with him.
Harry was an extremely good craftsman, and received many awards for his
work, some of which I still have in my keeping. He loved working in
Brass, which to him was a very special metal. Relatives both in England
and in Australia have many examples of his brass work. One technique
that he had was to hand engrave brass objects with lovely pictures of
local scenes. He worked a lot on brass artillery shell cases, creating
pictures of daffodils etc, complete with leaves and with a sort of hand
beaten background. One item of his work is held by my elder brother
Denis and is a 1/12th scale model of a steam engine he had worked on
many times and which he considered one of the very best of them. It is
called "the Bantam Cock". He could actually sit on it and drive it along
a special track. Brother Godfrey commissioned an artist, Eric Bottomley,
to do a painting featuring the Bantam Cock in its original livery. There
was also a limited edition plate made of this painting.
On one occasion in 1974 I was visiting my Parents at Cambridge where
they were living at the time. He took me on a walk around the local area
and then into one of the local churches to show me something. The church
was at Trumpington, and inside the church there is a stone coffin with a
slab of sandstone 3 inches thick on top. Fixed to the top there is a
piece of brass which is 6 feet long and 3 feet wide and an even three
eighths of an inch thick. Engraved on the upper surface of this brass
there is a picture of the person inside the coffin, Sir Roger De
Trumpington, and he has been laying there since 1289. It is known as a
'Brass', a funeral brass, and there are many instances of these all over
England. This particular one is stated to be the second oldest one
remaining. At the time he took me into the church there were two
American women there who were taking what is known as a 'Brass Rubbing'
of Sir Roger. I was fascinated with this procedure and with the picture
that was emerging, but my Father said "forget about the picture, think
about the brass". I looked at him wondering what he was getting at and
when I couldn't work out his meaning he explained that the picture was
nothing when compared to the fact that here was a piece of brass 6 foot
long, 3 foot wide and an even three eighths of an inch thick, and it has
been there since 1289, before such things as rolling mills or modern
machinery, even hammers as we know them today!! Of course he was quite
correct.
Soon after the start of the Second World War, my Father along with many
others like him who were too old the join the forces, joined up in what
was known as the Home Guard. To start with they didn't have many real
weapons, one or two farmers had shotguns and the rest of them had to
make do with whatever they could find, such as pick handles, pitchforks
and even toy guns! They went on 'parades' and route marches and
gradually received uniforms and finally a trickle of real weapons
appeared. Harry must have been seen as leadership material because he
soon became on officer and for most of the war had the rank of 2nd
Lieutenant, and finally I believe was made a Captain. So during these
years one of the items hanging up in our hall cupboard was a Sten gun,
much to the horror of my Mother! Eventually the Home Guard became a
force that would have given a good account of themselves if England had
been invaded by the Germans as everyone expected. Fortunately it was
never to be put to the test.
During the war Harry worked excessive hours, often 14 to 16 hours a day
and for at least 6 days a week. He enjoyed the responsibility of
ensuring the Marshalling Yards were in good working order. His special
'baby' was the 'coaling tower' where coal trucks were hoisted up and
then tipped over to fill the engine tenders that had been positioned
underneath. He saw it as his special task to keep the engines running.
My elder brother Denis joined the Fleet Air Arm in about 1940 and in
1944 I joined the Royal Navy, and that point in time was to be the last
time I was a 'live in' part of the Ash family in March, as I was finally
discharged from the navy in Australia. I only mention this in the
context that from that time on I am not able to shed much further light
on the life of my Father, excepting what I knew of him from letters and
from the few remaining times we were in each others company.
However, Harry continued to work at the March loco after the war.
Sometime in the 1950's he was made the 'Yard Supervising Maintenance
Foreman' and it was in that position that he retired from the Railways
in 1962 or 63.
In 1964 my parents came out to Australia to visit me, their long lost
son and his Australian family whom of course they had never seen. They
arrived on the liner Iberia and we were all down in Sydney to welcome
them in. We were living at the time in the NSW country city of Orange,
and it wasn't long before our 3 boys were being taken for walks by their
new found Grandfather, who took along some sausages and a frying pan and
would light a fire and treat them to a 'sausage sizzle'. Even at this
time of his life my Father was the very correct English gentleman, he
always wore a tie (sometimes a bow tie) and wore a jacket most of the
time. Even when he decided to assist me by doing some digging in the
garden he started off wearing a Harris Tweed jacket in the middle of our
summer, and soon the perspiration was pouring off him. It was almost a
surgical operation to get him to take the jacket and tie off. On one
occasion he took the boys down the road to gather some Blackberries and
when he came back he told us that he couldn't understand why truck
drivers going past on the road almost stopped to stare at him. No
wonder, the temperature was around 40 degrees Celsius and him in his
thick jacket and bow tie would make most Australians stare!! Our boys
loved him.
They stayed with us in Australia for almost 12 months, going off at odd
times to visit other places and see other things. It was a most
enjoyable time for us all and we all got to know each other a lot
better.
Soon after returning to England in Jan 1965 my parents sold the house at
March and went to live with my younger brother Godfrey and his wife
Patricia, at Hull in Yorkshire. This situation lasted for about 5 years
until Godfrey was transferred in his work to Portugal. Later, in 1972, a
small house was purchased for my parents to live in at Cambridge. Here
Harry set up his home workshop again, with a small lathe, drill stand,
grinder and his collection of small hand tools. While wandering around
the Cambridge market place one day he came across a lady selling
antiques and general bric-a-brac. They got talking and it turned out
that the lady often had items that required some repair, which Harry
offered to do for her. So it came about that as well as turning out
brass candlesticks etc, he usually had something to repair for the
antique lady, who I seem to remember, was reasonably antique herself.
Harry never charged very much for his services but apparently there was
an almost continuous need for him to be repairing something. I spoke to
the lady when I visited my parents in 1974 and she was singing his
praises loud and clear for the quality of his work. It seems that he
never accepted money for his restoration work but received payment in
cigarettes.
Harry and Fay stayed in Cambridge until about 1983 when they had to move
to live with my elder brother Denis and his wife Margaret, at Hove on
the South coast of England. At this time my Mother was finding it very
difficult to continue with the task of homemaker, and it was realised
that they weren't eating properly. It was not possible for Harry to
maintain his workshop there and his lathe and other tools had to be sold
or given away. I can well understand his feelings when this happened, as
his tools were so much a part of his life. From then on to the time he
passed away, he did a lot of reading and pottering in the garden. He was
still active for his age and used to go off on his own to visit old
friends etc. My wife Val and I went to England in 1979 and again in 1985
and we spent time with them both, in fact during our 1979 visit we took
them with us for a holiday in Greece. They thoroughly enjoyed that and
often used to mention it to us afterwards. Our 1985 trip was perfectly
timed as it coincided with a family wedding, when, for the first time
ever, Denis, Vernon and Godfrey along with their 3 wives Margaret, Valda
and Patricia were together with Fay and Harry. A very good reunion. They
both passed away in 1986 and are sorely missed by sons,
daughters-in-law, grandchildren and great grandchildren, both in England
and in Australia.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[1] Transcribed from his own handwritten but unfortunately, uncompleted
account, apparently commenced in the last few months of his life.
Transcription, footnotes and additions by V.S. Ash, 2nd son of H.S. Ash.
[2] Uncle Syd was apparently a brother of H.S. Ash's Mother, and not to
be confused with a later 'Uncle Syd'.
[3] Denis Osborn Ash, eldest son of H.S. Ash
[4] Elizabeth Van Dyke
[5] The manufacturers of Fire Engines & the forerunner of the
Merryweather Co. fire engines on view in many museums.
[6] Kings Royal Rifles Corps; known as 'The Greenjackets'.
[7] Cigarette cards. Cards which used to be placed in packets of
cigarettes
[8] It was at this time that Harry Ash's father was involved in the
development of a wire guided land based torpedo. He was an assistant to
the man credited with the torpedo's invention, Louis Brennan.
[9] The name Vernon given to the second son of H.S. Ash.
[10] Fred Smith often preached "on the stump" , i.e, under a tree or on
the villiage green, all around Peterborough.
[11] Horses
[12] The malarial lakes near Salonika were recognised in the 1950's as a
serious health hazard and were drained.
[13] Railway Operations Detachment
[14] My Father's narrative ceased at the above point, and I suspect that
it was at this time he developed influenza, which rapidly turned into
pneumonia, from which he succumbed on 21-2-86.
I will attempt to briefly further the story of my Father's life as I
knew it, and with whatever other pieces of information I can glean from
those relatives who may have something to offer, such as his sister Vi
who lives in Australia - Vernon Sydney Ash.
|
