Look who's back!!!

Hey Everyone!

I am back from a long awaited rest. As soon as I am back up and running I will putting up a good post to tell you whats been going on!!

Millinery, mending and making do

Hi everyone!

I found this letter while online and thought you would be interested.

I started my first job in 1935, when I was 14, in a drapery and millinery shop in the Lincolnshire town of Market Rasen, where I lived. My hours were 8:30am until 7pm, with two half hour breaks for dinner ands tea. The first of my duties was to clean and light the stove; it was the old combustion type and the only form of heating in the shop. It was very temperamental. I would lay paper, sticks and coal to start of  but more often than not it would go out and I would have to start all over again. It became quite a vendetta. My next task was dusting all the fixture and fittings and polishing the millinery room floor on my knees. There were no electric polishers in those days, but there was a great deal of job satisfaction in seeing the gleaming floor when you had finished. I was never allowed to be idle. If there was a quiet moment I would have to check that all the reams of material were straight and neat, and repair cardboard boxes. Nothing that could be reused was ever thrown away. Nearly everyone wore hats in those days. It was considered bad manners not to. They were priced from 1/11d upwards. The cheaper ones were made of felt and the more expensive one of plush velour. Everyone had a hat to go with every outfit. After a few weeks I was allowed to serve customers. I felt very important. A reel of cotton was purchased costing 1d. I took the money to the boss, who registered it in the the till. Only the boss and first sales assistant were allowed to use the till. We also kept a good stock of mourning clothes, all in black, which people wore for at least six months after a death in the family. There was also corsetry, some of which could be very strong and tight fitting, enough to literally take your breath away. Natural curves were discouraged. During my time at the shop I learnt such a lot about making and mending clothes, cutting down worn adult clothing to make outfits for children and using scraps of material to make rugs and quilts. This was just as well, because by then I had met and married a handsome airman and during the war when he was away I was able to make all the household linen and rugs in readiness for our first home.

This was written by Dorothy Clark.

Art for you and me ....

Hi Everyone,

In 1915 wartime conscription and propaganda created a demand for recruiting posters that were eye-catching and emotive. After the war advertisers decided that they could use the same techniques, and the golden age of poster art began.
    Some of the finest work was produced for London Transport and British Rail from the 1920's onwards. On platforms and inside carriages gorgeously coloured artwork promoted holiday and events. The GPO also produced memorable posters.
    The famous series of Shell posters from the same period 'You can be sure of Shell' are also valued collectors' items.
    Propaganda returned with the formation of the Ministry of Information in 1939. The messages were more pressing than ever before, but the designs remained dramatic and colourful. After the war the (ultimately doomed, it seems) Keep Britain Tidy campaign also produced posters you wouldn't want to throw away, while ROSPA's road safety and workplace posters show how to convey messages visually with few words. Sadly the superb artwork was largely disregarded and the posters ignored at the time, but looking at them again reminds us that modern mass-media advertising has deprived us of some wonderful imagery that we once took for granted.

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Go East Young Man!

Hi Everyone,

As I said in my last post here is the second story from the article I read.

In 1958 I reported to the South Wales Borderers (SWB) Regimental depot at Brecon - now home to their museum. They had one of the best rugby XV's in the Army and my London Welsh schoolboy rugby I was quickly drafted into the team. Most Wednesdays and some Saturdays we played at other venues, travelling further afield for the Army Cup. I was even granted leave for a four day tour of Devon.
    This took days out of my basic training, and it was suggested that I should transfer to the Royal Army Educational Corps to become a sergeant instructor. I jumped at the opportunity.
    I trained at Beaconsfield and found it challenging but well designed to cover basic literacy and numeracy and current affairs. We 18 and 19 year olds learned much about how to survive in the Army and the wider world - particularly as we were going to be posted to a sergeants' mess where most regulars resented our rapid three stripes.
    Towards the end of the course I volunteered for a spell in Singapore. As a result I was to spend three carefree months of my 24 month National Service cruising on three troopships. In spring 1959 it was the SS Empire Fowey from Southampton to Singapore. Springtime 1960 saw me cross the South China Sea on the SS Oxfordshire to Hong Kong. Finally, in the autumn of that year, I boarded the SS Nevasa home.
    Our pay was meagre, but sufficient for basics. On board 20 Senior Service were 6d; Pimm's was a favourite tipple. There were quizzes, films and weekly dance bands, and girls of our age travelling with their NCO families. Duties consisted of teaching any school age children on board.
    In Singapore I guided soldiers through exams (some of whom could barely read and write) and helped Ghurkhas, Chinese and Malays learn English. I visited the military prison to give guidance on further education to soldiers on various charges, including murder. I taught evening classes for soldiers and members of their families and gave last minute coaching to soldiers' children preparing for examination.
    I also covered 'resettlement' for soldiers leaving the Army after serving half their working life in the services. I worked from an Army manual, and I wonder how I had the nerve to give advice as, a that point, I had not been in real work.
    An uncle was skipper of an oil tanker plying between Indonesia and Singapore. We met in town and I suffered a number of excruciating hangovers. My mother was pleased to hear he was looking after me...
    On my trip to Hong Kong with Sgt Peter Howard, a fellow National Serviceman, we were billeted in the GHQ sergeants' mess high on Castle Peak looking out at night over a glorious electrical landscape.
    We visited drinking clubs, met with four RAEC 'schoolies' who had trained with me, and ate fish meals at the famous floating Aberdeen Palace. We were measured for cheap suits, made for us on the spot. It was all topped off by a return journey to Singapore when we slept on deck under the stars.
    I was never a real soldier because I never met any danger and I could never have made a career in the forces. What I did do was to learn enough about the professionalism of the army to become a lifelong admirer of the regular soldier.

This was written by Brian Evans, who lives in Winchester. The last story will be posted tomorrow

You're in the army now!

Hi Everyone,

Sorry its been awhile but I came across this really interesting article and I thought I would share it with you all.



Conscription into National Service in Britain ended in December, 1960. Here are 3 stories from service men in the army.

The Naked Truth

Shortly after starting work in 1956 I was called for a National Service interview at Broad Street, Birmingham. We filled in a lot of forms then went for our medical. We were asked to disrobe to our shoes and stood there clutching our clothes. This being a fortnightly occurrence  I suppose we shouldn't have been surprised to see the girls working over the road were standing at the office windows waving and cheering us on.
We also had a strange hearing test. You sat blindfolded, and were asked to repeat anything the doctor said as he crept around whispering. Some smart individuals pretended not to hear and remained silent. One of our group tried this but was caught out by the canny doctor who whispered, "OK, you can go now!" only to be called back as he attempted to leave. I wonder how he did in the final IQ test...
As I waited for my interview I felt sure I would be joining the Navy. After all, I had been a Sea Cadet. In the event that I failed, I was quite prepared to join the RAF. It wasn't like being in the Army, where you got shouted and shot at. In the RAF you were OK if you polished your shoes, kept your nails clean and combed your hair.

An Army officer interviewed me, and it went something like this:

"Ah, Peter isn't it? You passed the IQ test, so no problems there, I see your first choice is the Royal Navy."
"Yes sir."
"Well, for National Service in the Navy, you now have to sign on for three years. Are you prepared to do that?"
"Well, not really, Sir. I have a trainee ship and my employer is only anticipating me being away for two years."
"Ah, right! Your next choice is the RAF. Well, what bad luck! In the previous intake you would have sailed through but they've changed the rules. The Army complained that they always get the chaps who failed the IQ test; so now they alternate each fortnight. This time, those who pass the test go into the Army."

This was my worst nightmare. I had never even considered the possibility that I would end up in the Army. "Any idea of what you would like to do in the Army?"
My mind was racing. Not the infantry; too much marching and too near the sharp end. Tanks were out; I didn't fancy being locked in a tin box while being shot at. The Engineers were too manual and you'd have permanently oily hands. A clerk sounded good, but wouldn't impress the girls. Then I had a brainwave. A career that was a bit macho without being too near the front line; in the open air rather being hemmed in; and also had guns would be large enough to require transport to pull them, marching would be minimal. "Do we have artillery?" The officer looked at me for a second and then, scratching his chin, he gazed at the ceiling "You know Peter, I think we do!" And that is how I ended up doing my National Service in the Royal Artillery.

This was written by Peter Welsh who now lives in Thailand. I will be posting the other two stories over the next couple of days.

17th March 1950 " First annual National Book Awards"

The National Book Awards are given annually. According to the National Book Foundation, who sponsor the awards, their purpose is to "celebrate the best of American literature, to expand its audience, and to enhance the cultural value of good writing in America." The awards are given in four categories: Fiction, Non Fiction, Poetry and Young People's Literature. 

The first annual National Book Awards ceremony was held on March 16, 1950, in New York City. Celebrated as an award given by writers, the awards were co sponsored by The American Book Publishers' Council, The Book Manufacturers' Institute and The American Bookseller' Association, and honoured authors in the categories of Fiction, Non Fiction and Poetry. The awards expanded in the 1960's and 1970's, adding categories such as Autobiography, Translation, Science, Philosophy and Children's Books.

In 1980, in an attempt to reach a broader audience of readers, the National Book Awards were discontinued and replaced with The American Book Awards (TABA), giving a total of 28 awards in 16 categories. After a few years, it became apparent that the increased scope had actually diminished the impact of the awards, and the National Book Awards were re established in 1987 in the original categories, plus Young People's Literature.

15th March 1950 " Willie Sutton robs NYC bank of $64,000"

Born on June 30, 1901 in Brooklyn, New York, Willie Sutton was the fourth of five children. He attended school through eighth grade, then left home to secure a job. Sutton's employment included jobs as a clerk, a driller, and a gardener. His longest continuous employment lasted 18 months. Sutton was married in 1929, but his wife divorced him after he was incarcerated. He remarried in 1933. Before his death, Sutton co-authored "I, Willie Sutton" and "Where the Money Was"

Willie Sutton acquired two nicknames, "The Actor" and "Slick Willie" for his ingenuity in executing robberies in various disguises. Fond of expensive clothes, Sutton was described as being an immaculate dresser. Although he was a bank robber, Sutton had the reputation of a gentleman; in fact, people present at his robberies stated he was quite polite. One victim said witnessing one of Sutton's robberies was like being at the movies, except the usher had a gun. When asked why he robbed banks, Sutton simply replied, "Because that's where the money is"

On February 15, 1933, Sutton and a confederate attempted to rob the Corn Exchange Bank and Trust Company in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Sutton, disguised as a mailman, entered the bank early in the morning. The curiosity of a passerby caused the robbery attempt to be abandoned. However, on January 15, 1934 Sutton entered the same bank with two companies through a skylight. When the watchman arrived, they forced him to admit the employees as usual. Each employee was handcuffed and crowded into a small room. 

Sutton also executed a Broadway jewellery store robbery in broad daylight, impersonating a postal telegraph messenger. Sutton's other disguises included a policeman, messenger and maintenance man. He usually arrived at the banks or stores slightly before they opened for the day.

Besides being known an an innovative robber, Sutton recommitted in June 1931 on charges assault and robbery . Sentenced to 30 years, he escaped on December 11, 1932, by scaling the prison wall on two 9 foot sections of ladder that were joined together. 

Sutton was apprehended on February 5, 1934 and was sentenced to serve 25 to 50 years in Eastern State Penitentiary, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, for the machine gun robbery of the Corn Exchange Bank. On April 3, 1945, Sutton was one of 12 convicts who escaped the institution through a tunnel. Sutton was recaptured the same day by Philadelphia police officers; this had been his fifth escape attempt at this prison.

 Sentenced to life imprisonment as a fourth time offender, Sutton was transferred to the Philadelphia County Prison, Homesburg, Pennsylvania. On February 10, 1947, Sutton and other prisoners dressed as prison guards. The men carried two ladders across the prison yard to the wall after dark. When the prison's searchlights hit them, Sutton yelled, "it's okay," and no one stopped him. 

On March 20, 1950 Willie "The Actor" Sutton was added to the FBI's list of Ten Most Wanted Fugitives. Because of his love for expensive clothes, Sutton's photograph was given to tailors as well as police departments. A 24 year old tailor's son recognized Sutton on the New York subway on February 18, 1952 and followed him to a local gas station where Sutton purchased a battery for his car. The man reported the incident to the police who later arrested Sutton.

Sutton did not resist his arrest by New York City police, but denied any robberies or other crimes since his 1947 escape from Philadelphia County Prison. At the time of his arrest, Sutton owed one life sentence plus 105 years. He was further sentenced to an additional 30 years to life in New York State Prison following a jury trial in Queens County Court.

Seventeen years later, the New York State penal authorities decided that Sutton did not have to serve two life sentences and 105 years, Sutton was ill; he has emphysema and was preparing for a major operation on arteries in his legs. On Christmas Eve 1969, 68 year old Sutton was released from Attica State Prison. Ironically, in 1970, Sutton did a television commercial to promote the New Britain, Connecticut, Bank and Trust Company's new photo credit card programme. 

On November 2, 1980, Willie Sutton died in Spring Hill, Florida, at the age of 79.