and District Probus

Monthly Newsletter

Number 2, May 2020

A Message from the Chairman

We are now six weeks into our lockdown and, at the time of writing, we don‟t know how long it is going to last. Whenever the lockdown is eased I believe that public gatherings, theatres and restaurants, some of the principle activities of our Club, could be some of the last to have restrictions lifted. In the meantime we have to make the most of it or, to borrow an expression from another time, “keep calm and carry on”.

Elaine and I are lucky enough to live in an area where we have a wide choice of places where we can go out for our daily exercise. On our walks we have been able to watch the countryside taking on the glorious mantle of springtime. Wild flowers that were just peeping out five weeks ago have come into bloom and in some cases gone over. The hedgerows are full of blossom and the trees have their new growth of leaves.

I have been in regular contact with members of the Committee. We will be holding a video Committee meeting next week, using Zoom. There may not be much Club activity but we still have business that has to be dealt with. To use another well-worn expression, “the show must go on”. I have to thank Andy for putting together this Newsletter and also the many and varied contributors without whom it wouldn‟t exist. I would also like to give particular thanks to Keith, our Care Secretary, who is being kept busy maintaining contact with members who live alone or who have been under the weather. If you can think of anyone who should be added to his list please let him, or me, know.

Stay safe and stay healthy.

Mike Beavington

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A note from the editor

Firstly, thank you for the very varied mix of material you have sent in for this issue – start thinking about the next one please. I have tried to credit everybody for their contributions - most of the one liners dotted throughout are thanks to Doug Biddle. We may be in lockdown but it‟s spring outside and a pretty good one too. Members have been keen to share the sights they have seen on their daily walks. Enjoy the photos dotted through this newsletter.

Secondly, can I thank Kathy, my wife, for proof reading both issues of the newsletter.

Keep safe and well,

Andy Cunningham

Cowslips in the field behind the gasworks – spotted by Mike Beavington

------Congratulations to Jim Adams

Heartiest congratulations to Jim who celebrated his 90th Birthday on 15th March just before we all went into lock down. Jim now joins the ranks of the club‟s nonagenarians of whom there are now six.

As far as we are aware there are no birthdays or anniversaries to report in May but if we are wrong please let us know.

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Bluebells in Hay Wood – spotted by Ian Burton

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Life is great. I have lots of friends to send this to, but right now I can‟t remember their names.

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A Few Memories of - Pre New Town

By Peter Hopes

As an original inhabitant of Hemel Hempstead, born in 1936, I have seen many changes demolitions, alterations and redevelopments in the Town mostly very acceptable, but a few not so.

I lived in Heath Lane, and used to walk down Anchor Lane to my infants school in Boxmoor, passing the old Anchor Pub mentioned by Andy Cunningham in the first Probus Newsletter. This at the time stood in a narrow lane, without all the development of Crouchfield around it, which at the time was known as “The Cornfield”. I remember a large piece of Pudding stone standing outside the pub and it was tempting to climb onto it as we passed. At this time there were many small shops in Boxmoor Village and it was a very thriving community, with Mansbridge Bakers, established in 1885 still trading in Cowper Road. Proctors Farm Dairy, that stood at the junction of Anchor Lane and St. Johns Road has long since disappeared and been developed, but it has a soft spot for me, as it was where I had my first holiday job, going around with the Milkmaid in the pony and trap. From the infants, I moved to the junior school St. Johns, now demolished and just a memory, where the Headmaster was W.G.S. Crook, alderman and one time Mayor of Hemel Hempstead, who also I believe was one of the first authors of a book about the Town. At this time May Day celebrations were still practiced on the Moor opposite the school, and I remember the young girls lining up to see who was going to be chosen as May Queen.

Of course Boxmoor is still very recognizable as I remember it, which is totally different to the town of Hemel Hempstead itself. The Old Town High Street was the main shopping area, and fortunately it has now been preserved, after a period of dereliction, to very much as it was, with just the names of the shops changing, and most of the hostelries remaining. One incident I recall, was when my brother Keith one morning went on his new bicycle up to Woolworths in the high street and stood his bike against the kerb outside, and then meeting up with friends and walking home with them to Heath Lane. Later in the day he wanted to use his bicycle again but couldn‟t find it, then remembered where he had left it, and hurried back to the town to find it still standing against the kerb - could you imagine that happening today?

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After the first developments at Adeyfield and the excitement in the Town of the opening by Her Majesty of the Queen‟s Square in 1952 (where my wife Rosina was on parade with the Girl Guides), work began on the new shopping centre in Marlowes. This of course was a huge change to us locals, seeing all the old shops and landmarks disappearing to be replaced by new. But one of the most visual changes was the demolition of the “Nicky Line” viaduct from its site near today‟s Magic Roundabout, which completely altered the view of visitors entering the Town from Watford or . More recent residents to the locality may not realise the extent of this railway in the town.

The line from (where it was joined to the main network) entered Hemel from Cupid Green to the Midland station, (opposite the Midland pub), which was quite a large building with marshaling yards and passenger facilities. It is said that the line back up to Cupid Green from the station was one of the steepest gradients in the country, and sometimes trainshad to have more than one attempt to climb the slope. The line then continued over the viaduct to the Heath Park where a small halt was located, then crossed a low bridge over St. Johns Road, crossed behind the Cricket Club (where the embankment has been removed), crossed the A41 also with a low bridge to the Town Gas Works. The plan was originally to join up with the main line at Boxmoor (Hemel Hempstead) Station, but this never happened. If you walk up Roughdown Road towards to the railway bridge and look in the direction of Apsley, you can still see the rail bed that was prepared for this connection, or you could the last time I looked. A spur on the line from Heath Park Halt continued parallel to Cotterells where a siding existed where all the coal was delivered for the local coal merchants. It was here that I had my other holiday job, filling coal sacks for Masters Bros. and then traveling on an open sided coal lorry helping with deliveries-- so much for health and safety!!! I still think that the Nicky Line would have made a superb preservation line, but sadly it was not to be.

I can recommend two books amongst many with interesting photographs:

1. Hemel Hempstead History Tour by Eve Davis 2. -within Living Memory by Cathy Shipman & Don Jackson

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A Heron by the canal at Boxmoor – spotted by Ian Burton

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At my age “Getting Lucky” means walking into a room and remembering what I went in there for.

------Not always so cold a war!

By Richard Lyne

In the early nineteen seventies, I found myself living in Belgrade, capital of what was then Yugoslavia, run at that time by Marshall Tito who was ruling it with an iron fist. Tito had fallen out with Russia and the Warsaw Pact, but Yugoslavia was still, nonetheless, very much a communist country.

Working at the British Embassy, we all got used to the manifestations of the Communist Police State – being followed about by men in raincoats and constantly watched. But particularly irritating were the Yugoslav secret police‟s efforts to tap our phones, which they were not very good at! When you were talking on the phone, you would hear a “clunk” on the line and the volume would drop a little. Maybe they didn‟t mind us knowing we were being listened to and it was all part of the Cold War psychological game!

One of my colleagues got particularly fed up with his phone being messed about, not least because he was in charge of the vital task of organising the Western Embassies darts league. So, one day he wired up his music centre (vanilla and blueberry in colour – remember them?) and made a pre-arranged call. He waited until he heard the familiar “clunk” on the line and then immediately pressed the play button sending down the line at maximum volume the opening notes of Beethoven‟s Fifth – DUM DUM DE DUM! The mental picture of the secret policeman with his earphones at the other end falling off his chair in astonishment with his ears ringing made my friend feel so much better!

A couple of days later, my colleague‟s phone rang and he answered it at once – he was anxiously waiting to hear how many darts players the Dutch Embassy could field that evening. Before he could say hello, down the line came a very loud DUM DUM DE DUM and he was the one falling off his chair in surprise! We all thought that it showed that at least the Yugoslavs have a sense of humour – it just would not have happened in Moscow!

Another example of this different approach took place when a few of us were invited to a party on the outskirts of Belgrade in an area across the Sava river known as New Belgrade, where all the houses looked ugly, boring and the same. Heading for the party we were followed as usual by a secret police car making no attempt to be inconspicuous. We got hopelessly lost, stopped the car and the car following stopped behind us.

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One of our number who spoke some Serbo-Croat walked back to the secret police car and explained our dilemma. Just follow us, they said. So, we set off again with us trundling along behind the secret police and them driving to where we needed to be. The usual situation in reverse! Cheerful thanks were exchanged on arrival and off they went. Again, it just would not have worked like that in Moscow!

------A Poem for These Times.

Provided by Vic Johnson

And people stayed home And read books and listened And rested and exercised And made art and played And learned new ways of being And were still, And listened more deeply.

Someone meditated Someone prayed Someone danced Someone met their own shadow. And people started thinking differently And people healed.

And in the absence of people who lived in ignorant ways Dangerous, mindless and heartless, The earth began to heal.

And when the danger ended And people found themselves They grieved for the dead And they made new choices And dreamed of new visions And created new ways to live And heal the earth fully Just as they had been healed.

Written by an Irish poet, Kathleen O’Meara, in 1869, after a plague devastated Ireland in the late 1860s. Comforting and appropriate for these times. ------

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My Pharmacy apprenticeship

By Tom Derbyshire

At the end of the 50‟s beginning of the 60‟s few pharmacists had degrees so there were few if any postgraduate students. Most students worked for at least two years in a pharmacy as an apprentice before two years study at college leading to the qualifying examination. I had to redo physics A level at evening class whist doing a one-year apprenticeship –when I got to college the course had been extended to three years. I was one of the last doing an apprenticeship, that was stopped and the three-year course which eventually led to a Bachelor of Pharmacy degree was followed by a one year post graduate course.

My apprenticeship was served in the Fazakerley Street branch of Boots the Chemists in Chorley Lancashire. I spent a lot of time in my early weeks dusting the shelves and cleaning the glass cabinets (all the back wall was behind glass - I was informed that this was the recognised way of learning what we stocked and where it was kept!

The company ran a correspondence course for apprentices, but a pharmacist Miss Barbara Ward also taught me. The record of what I learnt was in a special book and papers were sent to head office for marking – and were occasionally inspected by my manager George Brown, area manager and occasionally by the pharmaceutical society inspector.

Prescriptions were written in abbreviated Latin and many of the drugs on the shelves were labelled in Latin. Thankfully this was a bit different from the Latin I had studied at school, which I found very difficult. I also had to learn about a different system of weights and measures. Medicines were prescribed and made up in the apothecary‟s ounce of 480 grains. This could be divided into 8 drachms of 60 grains each. The fluid ounce would also be divided up into 8 fluid drachms and 480 minims or drops.

However, when we sold drugs or other items, we used the imperial ounce (oz.) of 437.5 grains.

The most prescribed items were mixtures. These were often kept ready prepared in half-gallon bottles known as Winchesters and included Mist. Ammon. and Ipecac, Mist. Ammon Chlor. and Morph, (cough mixtures, usually black because they were flavoured with liquorice) (ipecacuanha is used to cause vomiting but in this mixture the dose is an expectorant) Mist. Pot. Brom et Nux Vomica (for nerves) and Mist. Carb. Aromat., Mist. Mag Trisil (indigestion), Mist. Kaolin et Morph (symptomatic treatment for chronic diarrhoea). The formulae for these were in the National Formulary. Most consisted of simple chemicals such as sodium bicarbonate, ingredients of vegetable origin, such as tincture of ipececuanha, and an aqueous liquid to make up the volume.

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The morphine item in some mixtures was supplied as chlorodyne (Tincture of Chloroform and morphine)

The aqueous component could be tap water but was often flavoured water such as chloroform water. A solution of chloroform in water was tricky to prepare because chloroform is almost insoluble in water. The required amount of chloroform was carefully measured and poured into a bottle with approximately an equal amount of water. The bottle was then shaken until the two were well mixed, then a further supply of water was added, followed by further shaking, so that the chloroform was split into smaller droplets. The process of adding water and shaking was continued, until all the chloroform was dissolved, when it was made up to volume with water.

Peppermint water was another flavoured water prepared in the dispensary. A quantity of talc was weighed out and placed in a mortar. The required amount of oil of peppermint was added and thoroughly mixed using a pestle, so that all the oil had been absorbed by the talc. Water was then added and thoroughly mixed. The mixture was transferred to an 80fl.oz, bottle and made up to volume with more water. The final stage was filtering to remove the talc to give a clear aqueous fluid smelling and tasting like peppermint. Making chloroform water and Peppermint water were usually apprentice jobs because it was very hard work. Some mixtures containing insoluble ingredients were thickened to hold items in suspension using amongst other things mucilage of tragacanth. Many proprietary mixtures such as Metatone, (A tonic) Minadex, (A tonic for children) and Benylin (cough syrup) were available in 80fl.oz bottles for dispensing

We were at this stage getting many items coming from manufacturers in tablet form often in packs of 500 -then they had to be counted out using an instrument known as a triangle and placed in a bottle containing the amount required by the doctor. Pills were rapidly going out of fashion, but I had to learn how to make them. The excipient was usually glucose syrup the ingredients had to be mixed with this in a special pill mortar until you had a mixture the consistency of plasticine, this was then rolled out like a worm and put onto the pill machine which was calibrated to 6, 9 or 12 sections. You then had a quantity of cushion- shaped items which you rounded off inside a pill rounder. Sometimes they had to be gold plated which you did by pressing gold leaf inside the lid of the pill rounder.

Ointments and creams were popular. Those in the National Formulary were obtainable in 1lb quantities from head office or local wholesaler, but many doctors had their own ideas, so many had to be made in the dispensary, usually mixing ingredients on an ointment slab with a spatula. Tar in various forms was often prescribed in ointments. Being a farming community we often had ointments for animals the most difficult being anti-pecking ointment based on yellow soft paraffin. It had to be made to the colour of blood which meant hard work rubbing down red ochre and triturating to spread the colour –it brought tears to your eyes because it contained, menthol, eucalyptus and camphor. The ointment was put onto turkeys‟

8 legs to stop them pecking each other. This was usually made in one or two pound quantities. Ointments could be dispensed in glass jars or wax cartons.

The only antibiotic available was penicillin. The penicillin for injection in various strengths, was dispensed with an equal number of vials of water for injection, there were also penicillin lozenges, penicillin ointment and penicillin cream. Eye drops were prepared in the dispensary. (Sterilised by placing the end product into a bath of water and boiling). We also dispensed fairly large quantities of “Sulpha” drugs e.g. sulphathiazole - the most effective treatments for many conditions until antibiotics became widely available. Many were in tablet form made by May and Baker. The company initials were on the tablets and the public knew them as M&B‟s. Other tablets dispensed included codeine, aspirin, digitalis and thyroid. When the prescription had been prepared it was labelled “The Mixture” “The Tablets” as appropriate but never with the actual name of the preparation. The dose or the words take/use as directed and the patients name and the date of dispensing. We had a large selection of pre-printed labels, so it was often only necessary to write a date and the patients name on the label. Sometimes we added a label asking the patient to return the container after use - recycling was not often talked about but was often practiced, The completed prescription was then wrapped in “white demy” and the parcel sealed with a dab of red sealing wax, the object being to seal the package without showing the wax seal.

Other odd things we made sometimes were moustache wax and a starter kit or making ginger beer.

As well as working in the dispensary I worked on the chemist counter. Apart from packed goods such as boric acid, sodium bicarbonate, cream of tartar, two types of Senna pods (Alexandrian and Tinivelli), we also sold liquid paraffin, malt extract with cod liver oil, and zinc and castor oil cream to be rubbed into a child‟s posterior before wrapping in a towelling nappy. A popular remedy was olive oil and raspberry vinegar. Although it sounds like a salad dressing it was used for children‟s coughs. As the oil did not mix with the vinegar it was necessary to shake well before each dose. Other products we sold were loose vinegar, methylated spirit, and distilled water. Vinegar came in barrels, and our shop had a double door opening in the pavement with a slide traversing into the stock room in the cellar - imagine a youngster like me having to catch the barrels at the bottom!!

In those days sex education in schools was just about non-existent and my parents were not particularly forthcoming. However, I was expected to sell contraceptives. The company was not too helpful either. The only information I was given about these products was that the sale should be handled discreetly, and the items wrapped before giving to the customer. Our manager had a special drawer in which these items including durex were kept, (known as the sports drawer by staff). Money for the sale of Durex had to be left in this drawer (Manager‟s perks!!)

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In a small photographic section, we stocked a few cheap cameras and various black and white films sold in various sizes 828,127,120,620 and 35mm. We also took in customers‟ films for developing and printing, the prints were normally contact prints – (the same size as the negative) - anything larger was counted as an enlargement. Strangely it was in this section that we sold hearing aid batteries, which were not prepacked. They came in boxes of 12 and could be sold individually, 575,675 and 625.

As the war had ended only a few years earlier we still sold large amounts of saccharin, popularized in the war as a sugar substitute. In the autumn we sold pickling spice and turmeric. In winter, remedies to prevent or treat chilblains were good sellers, as were hot water bottles because few houses had central heating. All sales were in cash (Boots Cash Chemists). We all had our own till with two drawers, top for notes, bottom for change. On top of each till was a duplicate sales receipt and carbon paper. We had to write in the cash amount and give the customer the top copy. At the end of each day we had to hand in our cash which had to match the total of the carbon copy receipts, so we had to be fairly good at mental arithmetic not only to give the customer the correct change but to balance our till each day. A small number of items were individually priced but normally each shelf had a shelf edge which held little black and white price tickets in it, or if in a drawer a card listing the contents and prices. I had a lot to learn both in my apprenticeship and at college but sadly by the time I had retired it was almost obsolete.

The most important happening in this year was meeting my future wife Margaret Harrison who was completing her dispenser‟s apprenticeship at the same time as me doing my pharmacy apprenticeship. After three years at Sunderland Technical college with exams at the end of each year I came out with a Pharmaceutical Chemist diploma (Phc.) and to practice had to be a member of the Pharmaceutical Society of Great Britain (MPS)

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From Arthur Brown – another of our nonagenarians.

A young girl started work in the village chemist shop. She was very shy about having to sell condoms to the public. The owner was going on holiday for a couple of days and asked if she would be willing to run the shop on her own. She had to confide in him her worries about selling the contraceptives.

"Look," he said. "My regular customers don‟t ask for condoms, they'll ask for a 310 [small] a 320[medium] or a 330[large]. The word condom won‟t even be used.”

The first day was fine but on the second day a big guy came in to the shop, put out his hand and said "350".

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The girl panicked. She phoned the owner on his mobile and told him of her predicament.

“Go back in and check if he has a yellow bucket hanging between his legs" her boss told her.

She peeped through the door and saw the yellow bucket hanging between his legs.

"Yes" she said, "He has got one hanging there."

The boss said, "Go back in and give him £3-50. He's the Window cleaner"

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The Great Game, Dust, and Unlimited Liability

By Officer Cadet JFG Cooper, 1 Platoon Blenheim Company (Graham Cooper’s grandson)

“Play the game.” For many officer-cadets-to-be, nervously contacting old family friends or former university pals for last-minute tips ahead of Ironing Board Sunday, those three words became very familiar. They‟re a simple, yet all-encompassing trio that cut right to the core of what it is to be at Sandhurst. They‟re also intensely problematic.

Fortunately, losing the Great Game of Camberley isn‟t as dramatic as in others. In the Game of Thrones, losing meant death, whilst in the Great Game across Central Asia between the British Empire and Russia, it meant a shift in global power politics and a fundamental change in history as we know it. No, fellow cadets: whilst your world may feel as though it‟s falling apart whilst your room is being annihilated during inspection, the consequences of losing here are not quite as severe. Then again, that doesn‟t mean that they‟re far off – and they‟re also not as straightforward as you might think.

I‟ll be the first to admit that I hated the rigorous room inspections of Weeks 1-5: “why are your magazines not evenly spaced” (I spent 15 minutes worrying about getting my toothbrush facing the right way, Colour Sergeant), “did you iron this with a brick” (no Colour Sergeant, but your sarcasm has been noted), or “did you even bother to check the skirting board behind the bed of the person three doors down from you, and why on earth not Cooper (you’re right Colour Sergeant, I am jack Colour Sergeant).” You know the drill, and I‟m sure you can relate to that small voice in the back of one‟s head questioning why I signed up to this in the first place. One would initially hear “just play the game” from a deflated duty student in the aftermath of the platoon‟s lockers being strewn across their floors, and later, following a raft of sheepish appearances at 2100hrs in the Guardroom.

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There‟s an element of black humour, and a distinctly British optimism in „playing the game‟. It harks back to the origins of the British Army‟s officer corps: Wellington‟s nod to the playing fields of Eton at the Battle of Waterloo ought to be familiar to us all. Its primary effect is to de-escalate the drama of an apparently fraught situation. I became curious with „playing the game‟ whilst thinking about dust. Dust was a fiend, mysteriously (re)appearing on surfaces that I wiped only moments ago, and of which the Colour Sergeant seemed to have unlimited supply in his back pocket. Luckily, at Sandhurst dust is just dust, and I would hope that each and every British Army officer will be remembered for something far more interesting than that one show parade in Week 6 of Juniors.

But for that reason, „playing the game‟ when it comes to dust can also be problematic. After the steps of Old College at the end of Week 44, dust becomes something else: the range of an enemy weapons system, a potential pollutant in the water that you want to supply to a village, or a vehicle registration plate that‟s affiliated to a criminal gang. Whether you are an aspiring infantry commander, engineer, or intelligence officer, dust becomes something potentially life-changing for the people with whom you work. In today‟s world the truth is in the detail, and the dust that we find as junior officers on operations can, and will, affect national policy making at the highest levels.1

Most importantly, dust doesn‟t just change: it becomes ours. Unlimited liability means that we‟re not just responsible for finding and getting rid of dust, but also for providing explanations when we fail to find it. My go-to line during Weeks 1-5 was “no excuse, Colour Sergeant”. Initially it felt safe in its honesty, its nobility even, and the acknowledgement that I wasn‟t winning this fight. That was all well and good for a time, but I came to realise by „playing the game‟ here, I was actually losing. There‟s no „playing the game‟ in the enemy‟s killing area, at a court inquest, or a funeral for one‟s soldiers, and simply having “no excuse” will not be good enough. If all we do at the point of failure is „play the game‟ then we will have not made the most of the training that we are currently undergoing: the men and women who will look to us for leadership deserve better.

It‟s a fine balance to strike: the Great Game has its uses. The Commander of Old College recently told us all that “nothing is ever as good or as bad as it initially seems”, and on countless occasions we are reminded to maintain a sense of perspective, have a cheeky grin left and right, or the ever-elusive Condor moment. So yes, „play the game‟, but understand its limits: take ownership of and learn from mistakes wherever and whenever the opportunity arises. In 35 weeks we will have dust of our own, and there will undoubtedly be those amongst us who wish that they

1Any half-decent infanteer will gleefully remind you that they are „the last 100 yards of national foreign policy.‟

12 had sought it sooner, before they had assumed the total, extraordinary responsibility for the lives of the soldiers that we serve to lead.

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Newborn lambs on the moor at Boxmoor – spotted by Ian Burton

Adlestrop

By Mike Beavington

On a warm, June day in 1914 a writer named Edward Thomas was a passenger on an express train which, for some unknown reason, made an unscheduled stop at Adlestrop, a small country station in Gloucestershire. What Edward Thomas saw out of the train window in the brief time the train was stopped imprinted itself on his mind.

Edward Thomas loved the English countryside. When, a few weeks later, the First World War started his instinct was to protect it but his age, and the fact that he was married, made him ineligible for conscription. In July 1915 he volunteered and quickly applied for officer training. He was commissioned in November 1916. In that same year he wrote his poem, “Adlestrop”, which described the scene before him when his train had stopped two years previously.

Nowadays, when we think of the poems of the First World War, the works of Wilfred Owen and Rupert Brooke and poems such as “Anthem For Doomed Youth” and the haunting “In Flanders Fields” come to mind. In the latter half of the war it was Edward Thomas‟s “Adlestrop” that caught the imagination and it became, for a while, the nation‟s favourite poem. Instead of describing the war going on all around them “Adlestrop” reminded the soldiers in the trenches why they were there and of the country they were fighting for.

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I learnt this poem, and its story, at school but it had escaped my mind until a few years ago. I was planning some walks in the Cotswolds when I came across the name Adlestrop on the map and it rang a bell in my mind. It turned out to be the same place that is mentioned in the poem. The railway line still runs through where the station used to be but the station itself closed in 1966. The platform sign that announced the name of the station was salvaged and installed in the village bus shelter, where it remains (see picture).

Edward Thomas was correct; Adlestrop was, and still is, in a lovely part of the country. It‟s not far from Moreton-in-Marsh and close by are Chastleton House (NT), Batsford Arboretum, Bourton House Garden and, if you like that sort of thing, the Daylesford Farm Shop. They will all be worth a visit when the current restrictions are lifted. I can recommend “The Fox” at Lower Oddington, a pub with a very good restaurant and a few bedrooms if you want to stay overnight.

If you do visit the area take a few minutes to go and see the bus shelter in the centre of Adlestrop and remember the pleasure that name gave to all those men and women, soldiers, nurses and others, who lived surrounded by the horror of the battlefields.

Lieut. Edward Thomas was killed in action at Arras in April 1917, aged 39.

Yes. I remember Adlestrop— The name, because one afternoon Of heat the express-train drew up there Unwontedly. It was late June.

The steam hissed. Someone cleared his throat. No one left and no one came On the bare platform. What I saw Was Adlestrop—only the name

And willows, willow-herb, and grass, And meadow sweet, and haycocks dry, No whit less still and lonely fair Than the high cloudlets in the sky.

And for that minute a blackbird sang Close by, and round him, mistier, Farther and farther, all the birds Of Oxfordshire and Gloucestershire.

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I am a seenager (Senior Teenager). I have everything I wanted as a teenager, only 60 years later. I don‟t have to go to school or work. I get an allowance each month. I have my own home and don‟t have a curfew. The women I hang around with are not scared of getting pregnant and I don‟t have acne.

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Gadebridge Park

By Mike Stanyon

Anybody travelling along the Leighton Buzzard Road recently may have noticed a series of temporary railings in the Park, between the White Bridge and the Bowls Club, and wondered what they are. They are actually surrounding test excavations to discover the original course of the river Gade. Due to the amount of flooding that takes place there periodically it is felt that diverting the river will alleviate the problem.

One could ask why the river is much higher than the surrounding land at that point. The answer is that the present course is a man-made channel, or mill leat, designed to raise the water level for Bury Mill. This mill was a part of the Bury estate and sat approximately where the roundabout with Queensway stands until the 1960‟s. Since the mill dates back to the 1086 Domesday Book the mill leat is our last connection with this ancient feature. It may well be lost as a part of the Gade Restoration Project.

Many of us are hoping it will be retained.

Spotted by Ian Burton

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Cherry Blossom in Ralph Rayner‟s garden

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I didn‟t make it to the gym today. That makes it five years in a row!

------Remap - Di Stephens Probus speaker, September 2018 meeting

An update by Mike Stanyon

Members may remember Di Stephens inspiring talk to the club about the work of Remap, the charitable organisation which designs and provides free custom-made equipment for disabled people.

Examples she gave included two clothes pegs stuck together to allow a person with arthritic hands to attach one peg to the article, whilst using the second peg to attach to the washing line. Similarly, a tubular gadget, made for a few pence, could unlock and open a window and provide extra reach. These were two simple examples from a range of much more complicated and specialised requirements.

Shortly after our meeting I was lunching with my best man, Roger, and his wife Pam. The subject of this interesting talk came up, and intrigued Pam. It transpired that as the Chairman-Elect of Potters Bar Ladies Tangent Club she needed to find a charity to support for the year. After further investigation Pam set all the necessary wheels in motion and her year in office has nearly reached its conclusion.

Tangent‟s fundraising for Remap is now in the region of £1,500.

And it all started with a Probus monthly meeting.

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Hot and cold sex

From Tom Derbyshire

Do any of you relate to this one??????????????????????

After his exam the doctor said to the elderly man: "You appear to be in good health. Do you have any medical concerns you would like to ask me about?" In fact, I do," said the old man.

"After I have sex I am usually cold and chilly, and then, after I have sex with her the second time, I am usually hot and sweaty."

After examining his elderly wife, the doctor said: "Everything appears to be fine. Do you have any medical concerns that you would like to discuss with me?" The lady replied that she had no questions or concerns.

The doctor then said to her: "Your husband had an unusual concern. He claims that he is usually cold and chilly after having sex with you the first time, and then hot and sweaty after the second time. Do you know why?"

"Oh that crazy old fool," she replied. "That's because the first time is usually in January and the second time is in August."

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Also from Tom

The Parrot

During a lull at a White House dinner, Melania Trump leaned over to chat with Secretary of State, Mike Pompeo.

"I bought Donald a parrot for his birthday. That bird is so smart, Donald has already taught him to say over two hundred words!"

“Very impressive," said Pompeo, "but, you do realize he just speaks the words. He doesn't really understand what they all mean.”

"Oh, I know", replied Melania, “but neither does the parrot."

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17

Daffodils in Ralph Rayner‟s garden

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Spotted by John Croft

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I decided to stop calling the bathroom the “John” and renamed it the gym. Now I can say I go to the Jim every day.

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A photographic - tip taking a selfie using your tablet

By Alan Langston

I have just caught up with some old friends in OZ and wanted to send them a full height selfie, having considered cameras, telephone camera, none would do the job. My thoughts then went to my tablet, Within ten minutes I was able to send a photo by email. Search 'camera timer' - android or apple have simple instructions - set your tablet up, take photo and share it with friends and family.

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Is there Sex after Death????

From Doug Biddle

A couple made a pact that whoever died first would come back to tell the other if there was sex after death. Their biggest fear was that there was no afterlife at all. The husband was the first to die and true to his word he made contact with his wife.

“Marion, Marion?”

“Is that you Bob, what‟s it like?”

“Well I get up in the morning, I have sex. I have breakfast and then it‟s off to the golf course. I have sex again, bathe in the warm sunshine and then have sex a couple times more. Then I have lunch (You‟d be proud – lots of greens). Another romp round the golf course, then pretty much have sex for the rest of the afternoon. After supper, it‟s back to the golf course. Then it‟s more sex to late into the night . . . I eventually catch some much needed sleep and the next day it all starts again.”

“Oh Bob are you in Heaven?”

“No, . . . I‟m a rabbit somewhere in Arizona.”

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From Tom Derbyshire

Wife says to husband the front grass really does need cutting darling. Husband replies do I look like a gardener? Wife says the front door really needs a coat of paint darling Husband replies do I look like a decorator? Wife says you really must fix that leaky tap darling. Husband replies do I look like a plumber? Husband then says he is going out and won‟t be back for two hours. On his arrival back home he finds that all three jobs had been completed.

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Husband says to wife, I knew you could do them jobs yourself you just had to put your mind to it. Wife replies I didn‟t do them, I got John next door to do them Husband replies how much did you pay him? Wife replies no money, he just gave me two options, bread or sex Husband replies I hope you gave him the bread Wife replies do I look like a baker? ------

More about Hemel and Rome

By Geoff Kirk

In the previous edition of the newsletter Andy described how, when planning his move to Hemel Hempstead, a colleague compared the town to Rome – surrounded by seven hills. I too remember being made aware of the similarity, but have never checked it out until now.

If you accept the National Geographic definition of a hill as being “a piece of land that rises higher than everything surrounding it‖; that the rivers Gade and Bulbourne meeting at Two Waters are approximately 75 metres (246 feet) above sea level; and that the tops of hills can be plateaus, then it is true that Hemel Hempstead is encircled by seven identifiable hills:

 Blackwater Wood/Bedmond Wireless Station at 140m (459ft)  Shendish Manor at 135m (443ft)  Hyde Farm Felden at 156m (512ft)  Westbrook Hay at 159m (522ft)  Boxted House Warners End at 162m (528ft)  Highfield School at 145m (476ft)  Breakspear's/Green Lane at 137m (450ft)

I extracted this information from a large scale Ordnance Survey map.

Ordnance Survey maps have been a great source of interest to me since a boy. For the last 60 years, whenever I have been on holiday anywhere in the British Isles, I have acquired the OS map of the local area. They provide such a wealth of information; not always well received by Diane when, out for a drive, I look out for the scenic route and suddenly veer off the main road onto an ―Other road, drive or track, fenced and unfenced‖ with a ―Gradient steeper than 1in 5‖.

I was not aware how this interest was first acquired until three Christmas ago when I received from my grandchildren The Ordnance Survey Puzzle Book. The introduction explains the birth of the Ordnance Survey and the development by General William Roy of triangulation as a technique for measuring accurate distances and angles. The original base line used for measurement by triangulation, and upon which all Ordnance Survey maps were subsequently based, extended five

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miles from Hampton in Middlesex to what used to be Hounslow Heath. At each end of the line there is a commemorative barrel of a cannon, buried upright and projecting about three feet into the air. The Hounslow end is now the Northern Perimeter Road, near where it passes over the tunnel entrance to Heathrow. The Hampton end is in Roy Grove, a cul-de-sac of fourteen semi-detached houses built in 1947.

In 1953 my family moved into 6 Roy Grove. I was aged seven, and for the next four years the cannon was the focus of games played with the neighbouring children. At that time it stood proudly in the centre of a paved area surrounded by a circular low brick wall, the accompanying inscription attached on top. Today it stands forlorn. My Christmas gift brought back those happy memories.

Whilst on the subject of topography, have you heard of the Bourne Gutter? This is a chalk stream with its source near Haresfoot Farm to the west of Berkhamsted, and which runs into the Bulbourne at the Watermill Hotel in Bourne End. Most years it is dry almost along its entire length. It flows above ground only when rainfall in a twelve-month period exceeds thirty-two inches. Ancient local tradition had it that the flow of the Bourne Gutter was “woe water‖ and its rising was a sure sign of impending pestilence, disaster or war. It flowed in 1991, the time of the first Gulf War; in 2001 when foot and mouth disease was rampant; and in 2020!!

In 2001 the stream was visible from the A41 bypass on the left as a silver thread winding its way down the far side of the valley. Today the vegetation along the road edge has grown too high and thick for it to be visible; but purposely so. A half-page article in the Daily Telegraph of Saturday 11th September 1993 covered the construction of the bypass and commenced as follows:

When the 12 mile long, £40 million King’s Langley and Berkhamsted bypass opens later this month, motorists driving at the statutory speed limit of 70mph will have a full 10.2 minutes to enjoy Britain’s longest purpose-made linear nature reserve.

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The landscaping designed to soften the environmental impact on an AONB and SSI required 80,000 native broad-leaved trees, 15,000 shrubs and 2,500 mainly aquatic plants, plus 200 kilos of wild flower seeds sown on embankments and cuttings. The total cost was £615,000. A further £355,000 was spent on minimising the disruption to the badger population.

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The biggest lie I tell myself is ..”I don‟t need to write that down, I‟ll remember it.”

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A Poem

Provided by Doreen Biddle

I'm normally a social girl Now Netflix is just wonderful I love to meet my mates I like a gutsy thriller But lately with the virus here I'm swooning over Idris We can't go out the gates. Or some random sexy killer.

You see, we are the 'oldies' now At least I've got a stash of booze We need to stay inside For when I'm being idle If they haven't seen us for a while There's wine and whiskey, even gin They'll think we've upped and died. If I'm feeling suicidal!

They'll never know the things we did So let's all drink to lockdown Before we got this old To recovery and health There wasn't any Facebook And hope this bloody virus So not everything was told. Doesn't decimate our wealth.

We may seem sweet old ladies We'll all get through the crisis Who would never be uncouth And be back to join our mates But we grew up in the 60s - (50's) Just hoping I'm not far too wide If you only knew the truth! To fit through the flaming gates!

There was sex and drugs and rock 'n roll The pill and miniskirts We smoked, we drank, we partied And were quite outrageous flirts.

Then we settled down, got married And turned into someone's mum, Somebody's wife, then nana, Who on earth did we become?

We didn't mind the change of pace Because our lives were full But to bury us before we're dead Is like a red rag to a bull!

So here you find me stuck inside For 4 weeks, maybe more I finally found myself again Then I had to close the door!

It didn't really bother me I'd while away the hour I'd bake for all the family But I've got no bloody flour!

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The Golf Trip

From Doug Biddle

A woman and man are lying in bed when her phone rings. She answers it and the man looks at her and listens.

Speaking in a cheery voice she says, “Hi, I‟m so glad you called. Really? That‟s wonderful. I‟m so happy for you. That sounds terrific. Great! Thanks. Okay. Bye.”

She hangs up and the man asks, “Who was that?”

“Oh that was my husband telling me about the great time he‟s having on his golf trip with you.”

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Memories of VE Day 1945.

By Mike Stanyon – a letter to his Grandchildren.

My dear grandchildren, as we celebrate the 75th Anniversary of VE day I thought you might like to share my own memories of that time during my own childhood when I was only six years old.

Having been born at the end of March 1939, growing up in a wartime situation must have seemed normal. At that time, we lived in Old Southgate in North London. By today‟s standards we had a large garden where my parents grew tomatoes, gooseberries, blackcurrants and strawberries.

It must have been one afternoon during the late summer of 1944 that I was sent up the garden with a bowl to pick strawberries for our tea. I had almost filled the bowl when my mother started screaming for me to come in. She had heard a doodlebug (V1) and was frightened it would explode. As I jumped up, I spilt the bowl‟s contents, then stopped to retrieve them. Mum‟s shouts became even more frantic. By now the doodlebug could no longer be heard, meaning that it was about to drop out of the sky and explode. After a short silence, the world seeming to hold its breath, there came the explosion.

We heard that it had fallen in Avenue Road, about a mile away, and wondered if the A1 Dairy had been hit as our milk came from there. I remember watching out next morning for Audrey, our milk girl, arriving with her horse and milk float as usual. We were so pleased to see that she was unhurt. The milk she brought had a lovely head of cream which would have been poured over the strawberries whilst in season.

There was another reason to watch out for Audrey and that was so that I could go out with a bucket and shovel in case her horse had left any „nourishment‟ for our tomatoes.

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I would have been six when VE Day came, so I had no realisation of what it was all about. A party for local children was arranged in the Walker Hall which belonged to the parish church. I suppose we had various entertainers and a tea party. The photo is a reminder of how we had been starved of entertainment all our lives so to see a conjuror performing his tricks was amazing.

I remember going home with a plastic beaker, a novel material in those days. I clearly recall it was a yellowy-green colour with tulips painted on the outside. In time the tulips faded and eventually disappeared, apparently, they had been painted on by the local ladies using sealing wax dissolved in methylated spirits; I do hope that they were not smokers.

Having this photo has recalled so many memories for me.

VE Day, 75th Commemoration, 8th May 2020

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Pole Vaulting in Hemel Hempstead.

By Tim Edwin

In my early years (age 7 – 12) I was a gymnast which led me, at the age of 13 to take up Pole Vaulting. I continued as an athlete till around the age of 29 and during that time represented the Hertfordshire Athletic Association (AA), the Southern

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Counties AA, the Armature Athletic Association (AAA) and the in various inter Athletic events.

In the early years my pole vaulting was performed on rigid poles (poles were hollow tubes made of Swedish Steel) which required a different vaulting technique to what is now seen with Fibre Glass poles.

I cleared a height of 3.96 meters using a steel pole. Later on I acquired a Fibre Glass Pole, the first glass poles coming from the USA, made by the Browning Arms Company, Ogden, USA. These poles were trade marked as „Sky Poles‟, were hollow tubes and had rubber butts at one end to protect the pole when planted into the ground (the pole is planted into a metal box which is located at the front of the landing pit).

Pole Vaulting is complicated. There are two pendulum actions taking place, one being the pole rotating from its fulcrum point on the ground, and one being the vaulter rotating around the pole.

When vaulting, the pole vaulter must not let their body pass the axis of the pole, if this happens the moment of the pole rotation stops and the vault stalls (you fall backwards when this happens).

With the a ridged pole you had to learn to hang behind the pole until the pole reaches its vertical height and then the vaulter would pull and push themselves up and off the pole.

With the fibre glass pole, the technique is totally different; the vaulter at take-off pushes the pole away from their body and resists their rotation against the pole. This is why the fibre glass pole bends away from the vaulter. This technique can only work with the fibre glass which was designed to flex when a force is applied.

Once the pole is bending away from the vaulter, the vaulter cannot pass the axis of the pole and therefore can begin to rotate backwards (rock back) to create a backward velocity vector. The under winding of the pole throws the vaulter in a forward upper direction (around a sixty degree forward direction). With the direction from the throw of the pole and the backward direction of the vaulter, the resulting direction of the vaulter is upwards.

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With the fibre glass pole, a vaulter by perfecting their run-up speed can hold much higher on the pole and therefore can reach heights which could not be attained with a rigid pole. My best height achieved was 5 meters.

Since the Sky Pole, there have been a number of generations of glass poles; we are probably into a fourth generation of pole now.

Locally, I belonged to a Pole Vault club known as the Pole Cats. This was led by a local school teacher, „Morton Evans‟ who at one time was the Welsh Pole Vault champion. In April 1973, the club put on a display of Pole Vaulting in Hemel Hempstead. This took place along the grass area by the side of the water gardens in Waterhouse Street (on the corner of Bridge Street). This display was put on to help the Sports Council with a „Sport For All‟ campaign. An article appeared in the local paper (Evening Echo) on the 30 April 1973.

------Some memories

By Graham Cooper

I was born in 1935 and from the age of 5 or 6 remember being taken to the Coopers Undertaking business in Axe Street by my Dad, Bert Cooper (Bill to his friends). The business had been in the Cooper family since the 1820‟s. He was then what I would now call Works Manager reporting to his cousin, and owner of the business, William Cooper. Uncle Will, his wife Ethel and daughter Gwen were staunch Plymouth Brethren who met for services at the hall in Ripple Road owned by William. To me, they seemed very stern and unapproachable. Bert had worked in the business from 1916 starting when he was 14. From memory I think that during WWII there were 4 men working in the coffin shop, 2 in the masons, 2 chauffeurs and possibly 2 others. There was much swapping of jobs to help when busy and all had to be capable of dealing with funerals. Also, I remember there being stables, a blacksmith and huge black stallions (probably geldings!) used to pull the funeral carriages. This was in the early years of the War but I do not recall seeing them after peace was declared.

In those days the firm used Rolls Royce hearses and limousines usually buying second hand then after the war getting just the engines and chassis second hand and having their own bodies put on by the likes of H.J.Mullinner and other coach builders. Later, they moved back to Daimler when Rolls became too expensive to maintain. They always had a plain van to collect coffins or „shells‟ and general runabout work, one of the earliest I recall was a Ford V8 Pilot with fearsome acceleration followed by a Chevrolet which was always overheating.

From the earliest age I was encouraged to contribute – putting wood shavings for padding, then the silk or cotton linings into coffins, making the tea or sweeping up and as I grew older, being allowed to do some of the woodwork and especially the

27 wax polishing. From the age of 14 I often joined Dad to help with an urgent removal of a body from a house if no one else was available, usually on evenings and weekends. I cannot remember a Christmas when Dad and I were not called out. My elder brothers Norman and Alan experienced the same upbringing.

My Dad turned his hand to many things, some quite unexpected. A regular feature at home in the evenings was the sight of Dad „wriggling‟ that is using a tool something like a chisel but with a sharp point on the end and painstakingly cutting the letters into brass plates to go onto the coffins for next day‟s funerals. When the firm decided to have their own chapel of rest, it was Dad who researched then made the stained- glass window that became such a feature.

As a youngster, spending time at the yard was a source of wonder as well as a source of pocket money from age 14 to 16 when I worked for a 1/- an hour during school holidays. Health and Safety rules were scant in those days and I can recall working in the noise and dust of the coffin shop where swarfega (green jelly) and a single bucket of water, unchanged for the whole week, served as the only washing place for the workforce. I was also involved in demolition work, knocking down brickwork and pulling out and breaking up asbestos sheets and my favourite, going with the masons to install or refurbish gravestones in the various cemeteries. I also did many trips with Dad or one of the chauffeurs when a body had to be collected from other parts of the country for burial in Barking.

At 16, I left school and joined Midland Bank, which proved to be a good move as I was later able to help organise banking facilities for Dad and my brother Alan when they formed J.Cooper & Son (Undertakers) Ltd. to purchase the business from William in January 1965. At that time, William and his daughter Gwen retired. For the first year or so after purchase, each week, I prepared the wage slips and calculated the amounts to be drawn from the bank and paid to the employees as well as the National Insurance and Tax payments. Later I was able to introduce Forward Trust to finance the vehicles as they needed replacing.

It was fortunate that prior to marrying my Dad in 1925, Mum, Elsie Elizabeth Searle, had attended secretarial school and later worked as secretary to the boss of J. Beharrel & Son, paint and varnish manufacturers in Barking. During the war she went to work for Royal London Insurance in the City so was well able to take on the office work previously carried out by Gwen Cooper.

I have to include among my memories of Axe Street, The Goat! I never remember the place without one. He was charged with eating the nettles and grass that covered much of the large area that had no buildings on it and where piles of timber were stored for seasoning prior to being turned into coffins. He had personality and taught me how to engage in butting matches with him to the extent that I could take on and beat both of my much older brothers.

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He was a great favourite whose party trick was to take a lighted cigarette at the unlighted end and as we all watched, he would steadily chew to the very end, including the lighted bit without batting an eyelid.

My elder brother Alan had been in the Royal Navy towards the end of WW11 and immediately after, ending up on Minesweepers. Perhaps he got his love of the sea from those days or was harking back to the time when Barking was renowned for having the largest fishing fleet in the world – true!. He, along with his cousin Roy and a friend had the idea of building a sailing boat, a 16ft. Sharpie of American design. Uncle Will agreed that it could be built in one of the spare garages at the Axe Street yard. It was and I spent every moment hovering around in the hope of being given something to do. Such was the view of my skills (I was about 13 at the time) that my greatest contribution was to be allowed to fill the screw holes!

The boat was built and taken on the large hand cart used by the stonemasons to Page Calnan‟s Yard at the Town Quay and duly launched into Barking Creek by one of their cranes. Some months later, Alan felt he should demonstrate his thanks to Uncle Will by taking him sailing in the Creek down to where it joined the Thames and asked me to come along. William turned up dressed in bowler hat, stiff white collar and black bow tie, black waistcoat and jacket, black pin striped trousers and black shoes. He was a sight to behold but, give him his due, he did what he was invited to do – come sailing – which he had never done before - and in conditions that were testing. Up to then, I had held him in awe, after that trip I had to admire his courage.

My overwhelming memory of those years during and following the War was of the incredibly long hours that the men worked and the constant pressure they were under. The pace was dictated by the demand for funerals and demand was fuelled by War and the fact that the firm had such a good reputation. Despite this pressure, the men still had time for jokes and as a youngster I was always well looked after when at the „yard‟

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From Doug Biddle

A man came to visit his grandparents, and noticed his grandfather sitting on the porch in the rocking chair wearing only a shirt, with nothing on from the waist down.

“Grandpa, what are you doing? Your weenie is out in the wind for everyone to see!”

The old man looked off into the distance without replying.

“Grandpa, what are you doing sitting out here with nothing on below the waist?” he asked again.

The old man slowly looked at him and said, “Well . . .last night I sat out here with no shirt on and I got a stiff neck. This is your Grandma‟s idea.”

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Rhododendron in Ralph Rayner‟s garden

------My Austin

By Keith Wright

Back in the late 1980s, I was hankering after an Austin 12/4: so much so that I joined the VAR (Vintage Austin Register) in 1987, despite not having a car at the time. I was hoping that becoming a member would help me in my search for a suitable vehicle but I was rather selective about what I would accept and very few vehicles were offered for sale (am a careful and cautious sort of person) and, despite my new connections, I didn‟t rush into a purchase. I spent the next year searching for a car, scouring the advertisements and visiting many parts of the country but there was still no Austin12 in the garage. To illustrate the lengths to which I went, there was one occasion when we had gone on holiday to Yorkshire but diverted to Anglesey just to see a car. Sadly, the lengthy detour was to no avail.

Undaunted by the setbacks, I decided to place an advertisement in The Automobile magazine in order to widen the search and finally my luck changed. The phone (range) one Sunday evening and my wife announced “someone from Ireland about

30 an Austin 12”. A long conversation ensued, followed by photographs being posted across to me; you should remember that there were no email or digital photos in those days. This was looking hopeful and I was confident enough to buy an air ticket to fly to Belfast the following weekend. On arrival at the airport, I was met by the vendor and we drove to his home to inspect and drive the car. I had already established that it ran very poorly and stopped frequently, although the bodywork and interior were good and complete. After a lengthy scrutiny and much detailed discussion, I agreed to buy the car. Finally, I had my Austin 12/4!

The Burnham arriving home

The vendor had agreed to take the Austin to Belfast for shipping to Liverpool, a few weeks after purchase. I left home at around 4:00am one January morning with a car transporter and some friends who had come along to help. We headed up to Liverpool to find the car was waiting on the dockside as promised and embarked on the long journey home to Hertfordshire.

From the outset, I was fully aware that the car had its problems. The poor running and its tendency to cut out without warning needed to be addressed so I immediately set to work. The first task was to strip the engine, which revealed that a badly repaired cylinder block was the cause of the poor running. With the engine in pieces and a defective block to contend with, I decided a full re-build was the only sensible option. This involved fitting new pistons, re-metalled the big ends, re-grinding the crank, hardened the valve seats and all associated tasks. The restoration continued over the next two years and extended well beyond the work required on the engine.

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In fact, just about everything on the car was repaired, re conditioned or replaced apart from the back axle which was the only component not needing attention.

The car at an early stage of the work with my young daughter’s model to show me how it should look on completion

After much effort and hard work, I managed to get the car back on to the road properly in 1989. But work on these cars is never really finished as they need constant care and attention and my Burnham is no exception. As well as the usual ongoing servicing and maintenance, I had it resprayed in 2001 and the front springs were replaced in 2018. Perhaps I should have refurbished the back axle when the bulk of the work was being carried out in the late 1980s because it did need some attention two years ago. But that was 28 years later so I suppose I managed to eke out a good few miles before my decision to leave well alone came back to bite me.

The Burnham was first registered in Herefordshire on 11th September 1929. The chassis number is 59550 and the body number is 6TC 121, which all indicate that it was made just at the time when Austin were beginning to unveil new features for their 1930 model. It displays chromium plated bright work which was introduced from chassis number 59502 and the fuel tank is at the rear. That innovation was introduced from chassis number 59181 in August 1929.Other improvements announced by the company for the 6-prefix car number series were a longer bonnet, shorter scuttle and one-piece wings. My car also boasts an unusual and non-

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standard feature. Both off-side doors have original external door locks which operate using the same key. I have not seen this before and I wonder if it was something that a past owner had fitted by a dealer as a bespoke extra or whether any other cars have the same arrangement. Does anyone have any ideas about this?

The car is very much enjoyed by the family and it is used on many summer weekends. We take it to local shows and have taken it on numerous outings with the North London Austin‟s group. It also took pride of place at our daughter‟s wedding in July 2015. We never dreamt that the little girl who made a model for her Dad to follow back in 1989, was actually designing her own wedding car!

The Burnham’s tidy interior

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My VE day disappointment

By John Baldwin

Well it wasn‟t actually on VE Day but some time afterwards, probably two or three years, but without VE Day it would never have happened.

I was born in 1937 and as a young boy I used to accompany my mother on shopping trips to Whetstone during the war years. There we would visit Hyams, an open- fronted greengrocer‟s shop. I can still envisage the huge, cylindrical yellow object that hung above the front of the shop, it was probably about eight feet long. My mother one day pointed it out to me and told me it was a banana.

Bananas, of course, were not available at that time and it was some years later that they returned to the shops. Imagine my disappointment on seeing these six or seven inch long imitations of what I thought were the real thing.

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From Tom Derbyshire

At the end of WW2, the Royal Navy had a great surplus of ships, which it was trying to sell off to suitable buyers. A Middle Eastern ruler of a friendly state showed some interest in buying a destroyer, so one was identified and sent off to the nearest dockyard for a refit and general sprucing up. A demonstration of what the ship could do was arranged and the Sultan came to observe it from his Royal Yacht. The destroyer was put through its paces, including firing its 4.7" guns and torpedoes at a target. The grand finale was an approach to the royal yacht at full speed, which was meant to be an impressive display of a steel vessel of nearly 2000 tons on a close approach at 35 knots.

In the event, the approach was just a little closer to the Royal Yacht than the captain of the destroyer had intended so he called his First Lieutenant over and said "I think, Number One, that was a bit near. Do you think we should contact someone on the Yacht and ask if it had been too frightening". "Leave it to me , sir. I've got a friend aboard that could tell me", came the answer.

A little later the reply from the Yacht came back. "No. The demonstration was a great success and His Royal Highness was most impressed. However, the Naval Attache has had to go below to change his trousers. "

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Eureka!

By John Croft

As many members are aware, I am a volunteer for a local charity which provides a service to those who wear NHS hearing aids.

I was initially motivated to volunteer for the Herts Hearing Advisory Service when I met up with my profoundly deaf mother-in-law and discovered that she couldn't hear anything, despite having hearing aids. I discovered that the plastic tubing in the aids was blocked and I was able to replace the tubes, after which my mother-in-law could hear again. She switched them on and with a beaming smile said "I can hear!" That was in 1997. Shortly afterwards I saw an advert in the Volunteer section of the local paper seeking volunteers and I realised this was something I could do. After several hours of training as a Hearing Aider I also trained as a technical volunteer enabling me to advise on assistive equipment to help with listening to e.g. TV, doorbells and telephones.

That was my first Eureka moment. It has been repeated over and over again many times since.

I enjoy volunteering for HHAS as you regularly get a Eureka moment when you fix someone's hearing aid. If someone hasn't been able to hear anything for weeks, it's amazing to see their face light up when you fix the problem with their hearing aid. My volunteer role is about releasing people from the isolation of being deaf. In some ways hearing loss is more isolating than sight loss as you miss out on social interaction when you can't hear what people are saying.

In 1997 all aids were analogue which simply amplified equally all the sounds picked up by the microphone and sent them to the ear via a piece of 3.5mm diameter plastic tubing inside an ear mould individually made for each client.

Nowadays all hearing aids employ digital processing and have done for close on 20 years. These modern aids have sophisticated processing which amplifies just those parts of the audio spectrum which are needed by the patient.

For those with lower hearing loss, there are now aids which have done away with the 4mm tubing and ear mould and instead use a less

35 conspicuous 0.9mm diameter tube attached to a small dome selected to fit the patient's ear canal.

NHS aids are very much up to date for free devices. The current model being dispensed by the NHS would have cost you a lot of money at a high street shop just 3 years ago.

I have not mentioned the type of aid often seen in newspaper ads which fits inside the ear canal as these are very expensive to produce, readily damaged and difficult/expensive to repair. The NHS does not supply them in West Herts. Moreover they are really only suitable for patients who have a low level of hearing loss as they are prone to whistling (feedback) due to the close proximity of the microphone to the 'loudspeaker'.

All hearing aids require regular maintenance and this is where volunteers come in. I provide a service to some local supported housing units for the elderly, I help run a drop in service at the new Methodist Church in Northridge way on the first Tuesday of the month 10am - 12noon. A few years ago I also initiated support for Repairs day at our local HH hospital helping to take some of the load off our hard-pressed and highly trained NHS audiologists at the same time encouraging patients to avail themselves of our charity led service elsewhere where they will get a friendly service without lengthy waiting times.

Just a reminder that the 3.5mm tubes need to be replaced about every six months as the tubing becomes hardened over time and for the 0.9mm tubing type we recommend they be replaced at 3 monthly intervals. We supply batteries, too.

At the moment our volunteer service has been suspended in order to protect patients and volunteers alike from the Covid-19 virus but you can still get aids maintained and battery supplies by sending your aids together with the brown battery book to the Audiology dept at St Albans Hospital or from Watford hospital at the address shown on the back of the book, and your aids are usually returned within 4 or 5 days. There is currently no service at HH hospital.

Finally, two things

1. Can I become a volunteer? Yes of course you can and it is very rewarding. Just have a word with me after the crisis is over and we are back to some kind of 'normal'.

2. Do I need a hearing aid? As a member of Probus, almost certainly you will have lost enough hearing to justify using hearing aids. Almost 1 in 2 adults over age 65 experience some degree of hearing loss. Although age-related hearing loss is not a life-threatening condition, it can have a significant impact on your quality of life if left untreated. Hearing loss has also been identified as a major cause of early onset dementia. Health conditions common in older people, such as diabetes or high blood pressure, can contribute to hearing loss. Viruses and bacteria, a heart condition, stroke, brain injury, or a tumour may also affect your hearing.

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Signs and symptoms of hearing loss may include:

Muffling of speech and other sounds. Difficulty understanding words, especially against background noise or in a crowd. Frequently asking others to speak more slowly, clearly and loudly. Needing to turn up the volume of the television or radio You can see the birds in the garden but not hear them.

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Cows at Bunkers Park

By our very own cowhand, John Baldwin.

The cows at Bunkers Park are a very popular feature with local residents and I am still the liaison man between Friends of Bunkers Park and who own them. At the moment there are three Belted Galloways, a mature cow and two heifers (young cows which, generally, have not given birth) and they will probably be joined by another. They are a fairly small breed, known for their docile nature which I can vouch for. I visit them regularly and run a rota of volunteers to check on them every day. We have nine volunteers at the moment, which is sufficient by the way, although I am happy to keep a waiting list if anyone is interested in joining. I have attached a photo from last year.

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Club Business section

From Care secretary, Keith Hamshere

I have been calling members who we know are living alone or may need help during lockdown. If you know of any member who could do with a chat please let me know and I will add them to my call list

Below are some useful contact numbers of organisations that are extremely helpful and would not hesitate to assist those that are finding it difficult to shop or get their medication:

 HERTS HELP Tel: 0300-123-4044 www.hertshelp.net

 AGE UK Dacorum Tel: 01442-259-049 www.ageuk.org.uk/dacorum They will do a door to door service

 Community Action Dacorum Tel: 01442-253-935 https://www.communityactiondacorum.org

Their transport department on Tel: 01442-212-888 will do one stop one shop shopping but can charge £5 per visit and are open Monday-Friday 9am-5pm

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From Social secretary, Andy Cunningham

We have been busy cancelling trips and visits and have now decided that the July trip to Chatham dockyard and the Annual club BBQ in August must be cancelled.

This is obviously bad news for us all since the BBQ especially is one of the clubs most popular events.

One good piece of news is that we have decided to postpone rather than cancel the spring break to Torquay. It will now take place from 16th to 19th May 2021, at the same hotel and with the same itinerary.

Tutankhamun

I know that many of you were disappointed not to be able to go to the Tutankhamun exhibition. There is a virtual tour you can see at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WKxsDuqoqsk&feature=youtu.be

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From Club treasurer, Geoff Kirk

PROBUS CLUB OF BOXMOOR AND DISTRICT ACCOUNTS SUMMARY FOR MEMBERS AS AT 30th APRIL 2020

BALANCE ON CLUB FUND AT 29th MARCH 2020 £1,761.40

ADD RECEIPTS £0.00

LESS PAYMENTS £98.71

ADD TRANSFER FROM CONTINGENCY FUND £337.31

BALANCE ON CLUB FUND AT 30th APRIL 2020 £2,000.00

BALANCE ON CONTINGENCY FUND £450.35

TOTAL GENERAL FUNDS AT 30th APRIL 2020 £2,450.35

BALANCE ON SOCIAL FUNDS £524.41

NET RECEIPTS FUTURE TRIPS/SOCIAL EVENTS/THEATRE CLUB £110.00

TOTAL FUNDS HELD AT 30th APRIL 2020 £2,864.76

REPRESENTED BY: CASH AT BANK £2,704.59 : CASH IN HAND £20.83 : CHEQUES IN HAND £0.00 : SOCIAL EVENTS STOCK £171.74 : DEBTORS £3,649.10 : LESS CREDITORS £3,681.50

£2,864.76

G R KIRK - TREASURER 30 April 2020

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And Finally

From Keith Snoxall

Please see over page.

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