Tindall's Memories
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MEMORIES OF THE PHYSICS DEPARTMENT K. F. Tindall 1 Memories of the Physics Department by K.F. Tindall Foreword My memories of life at the H.H.Wills Physics Laboratory in the University of Bristol span forty-one years. There are gaps, for I was not there for the whole of that period; indeed, in 1940, although I was in the building, I was there as an Admiralty visitor, and between 1949 and 1951 I was at St Mary's Hospital Medical School, Paddington. The urge to record some of the happenings in the department over the years has been with me for a long time. I promised myself I would do it when I retired but other interests affected my motivation. In December, 1989, I met Professor Thompson in the laboratory who asked me if I'd started writing. When I said I was thinking about it he encouraged me greatly, saying, "GET ON WITH IT!" I have tried to verify all facts and dates and am very grateful to all my colleagues throughout the University who have supplied information. From outside the department those whom I thank include Sir Alfred Pugsley, Mr.Evan Wright, Mrs.Molly Sanders, Chris Harries and Brian Jenkins. Don Carleton advised me to include everything I could remember. I have followed his advice but there are bound to be omissions. My thanks certainly go to Eleanor, my wife, who has not only tolerated my disappearing from the domestic scene for hours at a time while I applied fingers to keyboard, but has aided my memory and criticised, helpfully, my results. If a dedication be needed it is to all those whose personalities and activities are described in this account. They helped to make life pleasant and enjoyable and I am most grateful to them. Kevin Tindall Bristol, 1991 CONTENTS 2 Page Foreword 2 Chapter 1 Strangers in the Camp 4 Chapter 2 1946 - 1951 13 Chapter 3 July 1951 - July 1956 20 Chapter 4 1956 - 1987 25 Chapter 5 Heads of the Physics Department 1946 - 1987 33 Chapter 6 Some Very Close Colleagues 44 Chapter 7 Sydney Harold Venn, M.A. 53 Chapter 8 My Lads 57 Chapter 9 Lecture Theatre Matters 62 Chapter 10 The Student Body 67 Chapter 11 The Party Spirit 73 Chapter 12 Aspects of Technician Training 79 Chapter 13 Photography and Photographers 88 Chapter 14 Projectors 94 Chapter 15 Dr. C.R. Burch 102 Chapter 16 Security Matters 106 Chapter 17 The Maintenance Men 113 Chapter 18 The Physics Extensions 121 Chapter 19 St. George's Day, April 23rd 1980 125 Chapter 20 A Bit About Balloons 127 Chapter 21 Conferences and Exhibitions 128 Chapter 22 Occasions of Unusual Interest 133 [Photographs: in the original hard-copy version of this essay, a number of photographs were included, showing among other things various scenes from Christmas parties. Unfortunately, we have been unable to trace the original photographs, and the photo-copies in the hard copy are too poor in quality to reproduce.] 3 Chapter 1 1940 - Strangers in the Camp "If you look over there, on the skyline you'll see a fairy castle with four turrets. That's where you people will be stationed". It was mid-June, 1940, and the train was approaching Temple Meads, the vista of Bristol unfolding slowly as we neared the platform. The speaker was a Royal Navy Lieutenant who was accompanying a party of Admiralty scientific staff moving from Portsmouth. This move was part of a policy of dispersal which followed the Dunkirk evacuation and the consequent threat from the presence of German forces occupying the coast of Northern France. Our destination was the H.H. Wills Physical Laboratory of the University of Bristol where the entire second floor (less the darkroom adjoining the lift) was to become H.M. Signal School Extension, Royal Fort, Bristol, and was to remain so until 'wound down' after the end of the war. Initially, there were three groups, the largest of which was the Sutton Group, led by Dr. Sutton, carrying out valve research and which developed, among other projects, the Klystron valve and the Cavity Magnetron, of great importance in the story of Radar. Of the other two, much smaller, groups one was led by Dr. Derek Chesterman, himself a Bristol Physics graduate, who later became Professor of Physics at Bath University. He was investigating infra-red phenomena and occupied the Optics cubicles; the other was an advance party for the Transmitting Section. This group was headed by Mr. Anderson, assisted by Mr. Norman Bell, both of whom were Scientific Officers, and also listed an Experimental Assistant, John Brown, and a Laboratory Assistant, myself. We had, as working space, the whole of the Main Junior teaching laboratory, now Room 2.13, Stage I teaching laboratory. Messrs. Anderson and Bell had their desks in a small room opposite which also housed a Civil Service clerk, Charlie Ellis, who dealt with all administrative matters, and the telephone. As things turned out, our Transmitting Section was not expanded and we were recalled to Portsmouth in December, 1940. When we left the train at Temple Meads we went directly to the laboratory in a fleet of taxis, ours being the last to set off due to a little difficulty with the driver over accommodating my bicycle on the roof of his taxi. I had been unable to work it into the manifest for our official crates of equipment which had travelled separately by R.N. lorry, but had managed to have it included in our personal luggage. During this mild hiatus I learned a few new (to me, anyway,) Naval expressions given gratuitously by our escorting Lieutenant. However, we reached the laboratory and were able thus to locate the place and check that our crates of equipment had arrived safely. Strangely, they had! In the late afternoon we were taken to our allotted billets, or lodgings. 4 It will be remembered that, at the outbreak of war, children had been evacuated from cities and areas of potential danger to be settled in country districts. This was not a happy situation for them, frequently they were unable to be visited by their parents except on rare occasions and it was, initially, out of the question for them to return home. All this has been well documented and the power of the Billetting Officer was great. Even though this facet of bureaucracy was not popular it was able, virtually by a form of dictatorship, to achieve effective results. If a house-holder had spare room and adequate facilities he was directed to act as host to one or more enforced lodgers. Some were able to show just cause why they should be exempted but a plain refusal was not acceptable. In such a manner was our immediate accommodation decided for us. The area chosen for our reception was Westbury-on-Trym and centred in and around Falcondale Road in homes rather outside the usual 'bedsit' districts and, in the main, our people were fortunate. Once emotive barriers were broken down co- existence was comfortable and good friendships resulted. I was certainly fortunate with my situation. I was billeted with a Mr. and Mrs. John Hodge in a house about halfway down the upper part of Falcondale Road, on the south side. The Hodges were a childless, middle-aged couple who showed me much kindness. Our meeting was embarrassing to both parties: I had been wondering where, and with what sort of people I would be planted and they had been on edge all day as to what sort of person would, literally, invade their home and their privacy. There was a little rather enforced jollity as they showed me to a comfortable room overlooking the garden, which was to be my bedroom, and then invited me to 'take tea' with them. By then I, a healthy eighteen year-old lad, and not having had any lunch, was ravenous and did justice to the food even though an unusual discretion warned me not to overdo things. I think Mrs. Hodge was a little alarmed at my appetite as she inquired if I would be able to have a good lunch while at work. Sensing her concern, I assured her this would be so. They did their utmost to make me feel at home, gently inserting a few house rules into the conversation. I suppose there were hopes expressed that I should not be too noisy, not come in the worse for drink nor seek to entertain wild company, but the only request that I remember well was that I should change my shoes for slippers on entering the house. I was happy to conform to these conditions. I gathered later that, since the concept of having a lodger, or 'paying guest', was quite alien to their lifestyle and to that of their neighbours, they had discussed among themselves at length as to what they might reasonably require of such boarders in order to minimise the inevitable disruption of their hitherto placid routine. Apart from the overall trauma of my presence the only dismay Mrs. Hodge registered was when she learned that I had to be at work by eight in the morning. Most nobly, she rose to the occasion and would call me in time to enjoy an early breakfast. It was not lost on me that Mr. Hodge, who started work at nine o'clock, had his habits adjusted to enjoy the same early breakfast 'to save extra work'. Although petrol rationing had yet to be imposed the road traffic was very light indeed, when compared with today's saturation level, and travel to and from the centre was fairly painless.