#018 Begining of the knee troubles

1943 dawned with us at Hartington Youth Hostel once more. We had done the usual thing i.e. big meal, then down to the Charles Cotton for drinks and singsong. We returned to the hostel, there were a lot of “Rock & Ice” climbers there and we soon engaged in some rough games, one of these was “two four six eight ten” and off again. This game entailed one man as a pillar then six bent down causing one long back whilst the other team jumped on your back “hobby horse style”. Everything was OK until I had about three big climbers on my back and with legs slightly apart I couldn’t flex my knee and with that weight on my back my knee joint broke. The pain was terrific and my knee was like a football. I didn’t get much sleep that night, the next morning was another cross bar job with me wheeling my bike by the handlebars as well. I caught the train from Ashbourne (station is closed now although Derbyshire CC have levelled the track and it is used by cyclists and walkers and called the Tissington Trail). I attended the doctors; he just said bathe it in lead lotion as hot as you can bare I did this and the swelling went down. I still had trouble with this knee (and 53 years later continue to do so - I’m waiting for a knee joint operation 1999). Racing was curtailed by this accident but eventually I began to feel OK and was doing well in the grass track at Nottingham, in fact I was leading by a small margin from another “5 miler” Arthur Stokes.

We had entered for Sports Meeting at Kynoch in Birmingham, sponsored by I.C.I we had also entered at Market Bosdworth and Hugglesscote it was the August holidays. Lo and behold on the Thursday before the August Bank Holiday I was called in to Derby Royal Infirmary to have my knee sorted out. I was ‘flying’ at the time and was really disappointed especially as I didn’t get my operation done till the Wednesday after the Aug hols. I was in hospital three weeks. A spinal injection had been administered - toes couldn’t be touched for months after that. I had my cartilidges removed from my left knee. I rode in a 10 ml Time Trial on the then new Nottingham course doing a 29 odd ride. My brother Alan (unfortunately killed in 1946 on my Motorbike) broke the course record with an amazing ride of 21 min 15 sec this record stood for many years. In my absence he had won every event in the Nottingham Track League enabling me to win the Championship and the Club to win the Team. My other brother, Ernie, had taken 2^nd in the ¼ and ½ mile events, Dave Holmes taking 3^rd – Blos Catchpole had taken 3^rd place in the 5-mile. The hillclimb venue was changed for this year - away from tradition, to Piston Hill near Melbourne and not Monsal Dale. My younger brother Alan excelled, winning by a large margin from Dave Holmes. Alan was called up into the Fleet Air Arm shortly after this event, depriving him of a great cycling career.

Hostelling again came in to the equation even going as far as Dimmingsdale and Windgather Cottage during the winter 1943/44. Early in 1944 I started courting,her name was Jean Woodward, she worked as a part time Station Master at sawley Junction this curtailed my racing or rather training, this - coupled with my new job at the shop – and standing all day my fitness inevitably declined. That year, the NCU cycling body transferred our club to Derby Centre from Nottingham, this enabled us to ride on the municipal track at Derby as well as the grass track at Nottingham. A large meeting was held that year at Whitsuntide at Derby, and a large crowd attended. The entry was excellent - Lou Pond, Reg Harris, Tommy Godwin, Wally Box, Lloyd Binch, Reg. Morton. Jim Turner rode brilliantly only being narrowly beaten by Reg. Harris. The other event of the day was the NCU National 25-ml Championship; I had ridden in the other events but had lost my “zip”. I did however finish 4^th in this event which was won by Tommy Godwin with Jim Turner 2^nd. I lost the Nottingham track league title, yet I did not lose one 5mile event all season, was hopeless in the sprints.

#008 Back to Bretby

Also pre-war and with my dad’s help, 5 of us bought a brand new bell tent for £5, each of us paying my Dad a shilling a week for it. Dad took the tent and all the gear to Pear Tree farm at Kinoulton in Nottinghamshire. We would cycle there most weekends, we bought a Primus stove and did all our own cooking buying bacon and eggs from the farm. The farm owned a fine tennis court and with their permission we marked it out having already mowed the grass, then we paid to play on the court. We had a knock out tournament most weeks. We also had a ridgepole tent. Two of the lads slept in these using sack bags stuffed with hay as a mattress. On one particular Saturday Sir Jesse Boots (Boots the Chemist) daughter came with her boy friend, they had all the best camping gear, we got on quite well with them and they copied us by stuffing some sack bags with hay for a mattress. On the same evening we walked along the canal tow path to the next village Hickling, and straight in the pub near the road bridge, here we had quite a few pints of beer and also played dominoes with the locals a good night being had by all.

On our return to the farm we were passing the Boots camp, their tent had been flattened - the cattle had ransacked their tent to get at the hay. We thought in our inebriated state that this was a huge joke little knowing that our tent had had the same treatment. The farmer lent us tarpaulins so we were able to effect good repairs. The rich Boots people could afford to stay at the farmhouse. We camped here most weekends but we had to take the tent down, the Army objecting to the camp at the outbreak of war. They were frightened of air attacks by the Luftwaffe, what a joke.

February 1934 saw me back at Bretby Hall for further operations to my feet. This time the stay was only six months. In the hospital were quite a few lads who were there in 1929/30, they were delighted to see me and wanted to know all the news of “the outside world”. The same food was being served and the same games were being played in the ward, it was as though I had not been away, school was the same. One improvement had been made ‑ a tuck shop had been opened. We were then able to spend our meagre pocket money on sweets of our own choice. Mr Heather still appeared with his goodies and still held the Sunday singsong ‑ it appeared louder than ever to me. The day of joyous home return soon came this time, it was sad goodbyes to all my comrades in the hospital, some of whom were destined to be there for many years hence. 1 was to return to this hospital for a knee operation 40 years later.

Back home once more, I was to see the shop's new extension. A new shop front had been fitted; motorcycles were now being sold, ie Triumph, B.S.A., Excelsior and New Imperial. A larger workshop had also been built by George Leivers, later to be a prominent builder in the locality under the name of Brown & Leivers. Reedman’s Builders of Sawley did the shop alteration and fittings.

Return to school was again more difficult; I was again put in a lower class. Exams were on at the time, and next to me sat a boy from Armstrong's travelling Fun Fair who were in the town. The children from the fun fair had to attend our school, history was the exam and poor Gordon was clueless. I did the exam for him, he finished top, and there was an inquest and a reprimand for me. My brother was in the same class, having caught me up due to my hospitalisation. I finished 3rd in class so was hoping to go up to the next class, however I did not go up as students who were due for their scholarship exams had preference. So, I had to wait a further six months before I made it to the higher grade. My brother Ernie won a scholarship to the Grammar School the following year. I had by this time caught him up, my stay in hospital thwarted my taking the test for Grammar School.

#005 Christmas and homeward bound

The Sunday before Christmas Mr Heather came round with a list to ask us what we would like for Christmas, I put down a farmyard, sure enough Mr Heather came dressed as Santa delivering presents for everyone (I was to learn many years later how he did this). Turkey was enjoyed by all with a doctor carving, A large Christmas pudding was ceromonously wheeled in ‑ it was a terrific day. On Boxing day we were all moved out of our ward to make way for the nurses party, it was due to finish early the following morning, we were wide awake with the noise from the band and after the do was over, ‘up patients’ raided the place for the leftover food and drink. We were half drunk in a few hours, what a time we had. All the people in that ward 5 and all other wards swore terrible. One particular day we were hard in conversation, every other word a b or f or worse, what we had not realised was that just above us was a Sisters bedroom. The sister in question worked days but she had changed one shift to night duty and we had woken her, she came down on us like a ton of bricks! The end result was that three of us were put in ‘quarantine’ under the stairs ‑ no lights and bare food for three days and nights.

On winter evenings we held relay races in the ward, the long centre table was removed and then we commenced, all events were on the floor ie backward and forward crab, rabbit jumps. And the best was crab football, I was to incorporate these relays years later when I ran a gymnasium. We were all mad keen on aeroplanes in those days drawing Spads, Bristol fighters and Fokker three wing planes. One of the boys had a ‘frog plane kit’ brought him powered by elastic, we all had a hand in building it then came the great day for the launch. The elastic was wound, the aerolons were adjusted and off it went inside the ward of course, everything was great and it did a magnificent three-point landing on the centre table. The only thing wrong was that it didn’t stop and wiped all the vases of flowers off the table. Water, flowers everywhere, the plane was confiscated never to be seen again! Also in the winter we had slide cinematography shows, the ones remembered most where Scott of the Antarctic, Nanook of the North and Rin Tin Tin. These were all silent films from the original filmmakers in the Scott South Pole expedition. Another film that comes to mind was one of that great explorer Shackleton (I have just ordered a new book from our local library by Roland Hunniford about Shackleton). Also read by most of us in the ward was a book by Cherry Orchard “THE WORST JOURNEY IN THE WORLD”. I have read this book many times since then.

After 18 months in hospital, the great day dawned when I returned home, still in plaster, but walking OK in my new boots. Goodbyes and best wishes were said to mates, several of these were still there on my return for two more ops some three years later. Dad had contacted another Long Eaton cycle dealer friend, a Mr Russell. He had the famous Raleigh agency, he also had a car and very kindly brought me home.

I had only seen my two brothers once while in hospital as no visitors under fourteen years of age were allowed, (slightly different from today's rules). The only time I had seen them was when a walking plaster and boots had been fitted, and I was able to walk over the grass in front of Ward 4 to the iron fence near the caves and lakes at the bottom. We were not allowed over this fence so all one could do was talk through it.

The trip home via Willington & Repton was like a window on another world, after the restrictive view from the hospital windows. I arrived home on a Saturday afternoon to find my brothers ‑ with a friend ‑ had gone to the local Co‑op to fetch some extra groceries, during the journey home they decided to use the towpath along side the canal. Somewhere along the way, relationships deteriorated and the three of them were involved in an argument. The friend promptly threw all the tinned food in the canal! ‑ On their return home all hell let loose, my mum going hairless, eventually calm reigned and my dad by some means or other managed to retrieve the tins.

#004 Life in Bretby

Earlier on that year, work had commenced on a new hospital wing, which were to be wards 9 & 10. F. Perks & Son, a firm from my own town of Long Eaton had the contract. Just before work commenced on this project we had got very keen on football, each drawing a team from the first division of the Football league. Arsenal was my choice ‑ they were league leaders at the time. Some bright spark suggested we get a ball and challenge wards 6 ‑7 ‑ 8 to a match. At that time, the maker of OXO cubes where running a competition. If you saved fifty cube boxes and sent with these a 2s 6p Postal Order you received a football. We went in the kitchens and informed the staff of this and they duly supplied the empty boxes. We then had to find the 2/6 for the PO, quite a large sum for us, it was eventually saved and a kind nurse procured the PO and some time later the ball arrived. Two teams where picked, the sights that were behold for the teams where unbelievable, three ‘up patients’ played forward, patients with one leg iron played in defence and goalkeepers were patients with two leg irons, who lay across the goal mouth. All patients were wheeled on to the front of ward 5, the match being played on the lawn in front. The game was a great success and more were played through that great summer.

As was written previously, F Perks & Son where building wards 9 & 10, at their lunch break they borrowed our football, much to our irritation the ball was burst. The following week they bought us a new one far superior to our OXO model. We were wheeled outside in all weathers, in summer ‑ irrespective of the weather ‑ we only wore small trunks, all the bedclothes being taken from us. In winter the only time we were brought indoors was if it rained, snow was no problem, we were in it. Those of us with bed cages were lucky, because you could go underneath this. My dad bought me a bike front lamp which I was then able to use to read under the clothes. We all had frost bitten hands, even though we used old socks for gloves and 1929 was an abnormally bad winter!

During the day we made our own enjoyment, submarines and battleships was played across the ward, we also arranged domino tournaments and of course, card games. Scouts were organised that summer by a Scoutmaster from Burton on Trent. We were given shirts, scarves and hats and we all passed our tender foot badges then took higher badges. We had our own War Cry –

‑B‑R‑E‑T‑B‑Y Bretby is the place

Where we make men.

There are no flies on us,

There may be flies on some of you guys

But their ain't no flies on us‑

A boxing tournament was arranged one evening, one of the boy's parents brought gloves, everyone took part in this knock out competition, even the lads on tip-up beds, they had their shoulder restraining straps removed to enable them to have more room. I was beaten senseless by one of these bedridden lads.

The food whilst being good for us had no variety, every week was the same. We had roast beef and Yorkshire pudding on Sunday, on Monday we had cold beef, Tuesday beef or mutton, Wednesday was stew day, Thursday hash, Friday fish, Saturday fruit and every day rice or sago pudding, brought to us in white pails. Breakfast was bread and honey or Lyle’s golden syrup, boiled eggs also appeared from time to time. A cooked breakfast of bacon & egg was the treat the day after any operation. We had plenty to drink ie cocoa, Horlicks, (which is still a favourite drink) and milk. Plenty of fruit was eaten at tea time so, all in all, good plain food ‑ which all had to be eaten, anything that was left had to be finished at the next meal ‑ and the next ‑ till all had gone. School was every day, same hours as at home. History was my favourite subject (it still is); personally a lot of reading was done.

After operations you had your first plaster cast removed then out came stitches, then you were fitted with a walking plaster and measured for large boots. When the boots arrived you were able to get up but what a shock because you had to learn to walk again, holding on to beds and falling over. But it was a very good feeling after (for me) 12 months in bed - I was lucky, some patients were still bed ridden when I returned some 4 years later.

One particular happening that summer I remember well. The Airships R 101, R 100 & R3 4 flew over, what a great day that was for us, bearing in mind that if a car or lorry appeared down the drive we all crowded round to catch a glimpse of these (to us) mechanical marvels. Christmas was a great time for us. During my childhood spell at Bretby, we had a regular visitor call on us, his name was Mr Heather. He brought everyone a bag of sweets, and he also held a religious service in the afternoon. People in Burton 3 miles away could hear us sing, especially the Hymn

'Pull for the shore, sailor, pull for the shore,

Heed not the tiring wind but bend to the oar

Safe in the lifeboat, sailor, safe evermore,

Glory, glory hallelujah, pull for the shore.

My dad came to see me every other Sunday and he had a word for all the other lads (he could not come on Saturday because of the shop and he came by bike in all weathers, a 50 mile round trip. There was a period in 1929 when we had no visitors for some weeks due to a Diphtheria epidemic; Thank God this has been eradicated now. Early in 1930, February comes to mind, the wireless loudspeaker in our ward had been left on, suddenly an emergency announcement came through, the newscaster announcing that the RI01 had crashed in France, we were all saddened as we had seen this ship just prior.

#003 Bretby Hall

At this time I was attending a new clinic in Waverley Street. As my feet did not improve it was suggested to send me to Bretby Hall Orthopaedic Hospital, this had recently opened (1929), and my mother and I left by train, again from Sawley Junction. Just before entering Derby Station I was rewarded with the amazing sight of several steam engines. This was the start of my life long love of steam.

Next stop was Burton where we were again met by an ambulance. Bretby is about thee miles along the Ashby Road, at the gatehouse or lodge you turn left, then along a long drive to arrive at Bretby Hall. I then went through the usual rigmarole of goodbyes then a bath and so to the ward. As the children's ward was full, I was put in to Ward 5, which at that time was for 15 year olds upwards. I was 7, I seemed to get along OK with the rest of the patients, most of whom where suffering from TB which was quite prevalent at that time. Quite a few were on ‘tip up’ beds i.e. a fracture board was reared up at 45 degrees. Tied to the top of the high bed rail, the TB. infected leg was attached to a leg weight to try and straighten it, others with TB spines where on a Spiker that necessitated years in this prone position, the lads on 'tip up' beds were also there many years.

Visitors were only allowed once a fortnight and they had to walk the mile from the lodge gate because the bus did not come up the drive. A contest was therefore arranged, first prize being awarded for the relatives who were leaders through the gate to the hospital. All food brought was shared equally with all other patents, this worked well due to some patients having no visitors at all. I was there for bonfire night 1929, we all bought fireworks and these were pooled and ‘up patients’ were in charge of the display. Things seem to be going well until Wheetcroft, who had TB glands and so could walk about and help the nurses, dropped a lighted match in the whole box. Rockets were going in all directions, jumping jacks were all over the place ‑ it was the best firework display we had ever seen, it lasted fully five minutes. “Light another like that” everyone shouted, but that was the lot, the pooled fireworks of six wards had gone off in one foul swoop. Wheetcroft never lived that episode down.

#002 Coleshill Hospital

Meanwhile I was still attending the Cripples Guild - halfway up the hill on Oxford Street, Nottingham. It was an adventure then to go by Bartons red buses to Nottingham, the route took us by Chilwell Ordnance Depot. I was intrigued to see all the railway wagons had W.D. on the side (i.e., War Department) and after seeing these every week I asked where the P.D, ie. Peace Department wagons were. Ah, the innocence of childhood -. After several visits to the Cripples Guild it was decided to fit me with knee length callipers and so I was sent to Coleshill Hospital. This entailed a journey by train which was quite an adventure for me, I remember going to Sawley Junction station for the train, we had to change at Derby which necessitated going over the footbridge. As I couldn't walk well they allowed us to go on an underground lift, which was another adventure as I was given a ride on a new type electric trolley.

We eventually arrived at Coleshill Station where we were met by an ambulance, which took us to the hospital. Goodbyes were said to my mother and grandmother very tearfully as I remember. Then into a big bath where I was scrubbed with carbolic soap, coming out of the bath red as a beetroot and then put to bed. This hospital was run by nuns (its still there and is still run by nuns), there were several other patients in the ward, all older than me ‑ I was five at this time ‑ they told me that the ward was haunted and at night a ghost would appear. Sure enough after lights, out a ghostly white figure appeared, I was scared out of my wits and shot under the bed clothes to find out much later the next day that the figure was the night sister wearing a white habit and doing her rounds. I don't remember my operations but remember the two ‘knee length’ plaster casts that were put on. We had school lessons in hospital but after six months ‑ on my return to Sawley Road School ‑ I was well behind and it took me a year to catch up.

1929 saw me in the big school, Form One. Mrs Thompson was the teacher; she was very good for me as I finished 3rd in the class and top in the August exams. However, after the school holidays I was again in hospital but just prior to this dad had supplied me with a brand new Standard K bicycle. I was able to use this as transport to and from school, all other pupils had to walk, my brother Ernie was at school by now and I, on one particular day picked him up for a ride home on my bike crossbar. All went well until passing Wyvern Avenue, a dog ran out at us snapping at our legs, we swerved to miss the dog whereupon my brother put his foot in the front wheel and over the top we went, our heads where badly cut and bruised. The next day we were brought before the whole school assembly and severely reprimanded by the headmaster Mr Gerald Oldam, and I was forbidden to give any more joy rides.