Life on the Run

by Stan Eldon

  The Festival itself was a great experience, and the timing of it was right; just six years after the end of the war. It is a pity the Millennium Dome did not take off in the same way, but sadly people’s expectancy today is a lot more than fifty years ago, and only six years after war, that had deprived us of many of the pleasant things in life.

  In 1952, I was in the fifth form at school, and I remember one PT lesson in particular. We had just come out of the gym to change and our games master came into the changing room very stern faced and announced that the king was dead. There was a deathly silence and we were then sent home. I remember the day of George VI’s funeral in Windsor. Kings and queens are brought down from London on such occasions by train to the railway station in the centre of Windsor, which is kept open mainly for that purpose, and the processional route from there to the castle passes the Windsor Guildhall and Parish Church. As I mentioned earlier, I had an association with the Parish Church in Windsor, as I had been in the choir of its sister church All Saints’ since I was seven years old.

  On the day of the funeral, the Parish Church of St John the Baptist, had sold seats in the churchyard so that people could pay their respects as the cortege passed the church on its way from the railway station to the final resting place, and to enable the church to make “a bob or two” for the roof fund. I was on ‘duty’ at one of the gates, when a very colourful man approached me in his white robes and offered me a lot of money (wads of the old white £5 notes) to allow him in. The man was the well-known racing tipster Prince Monolulu. I called over to a church warden who was in charge and a deal was done; a few of those big fivers changed hands, and the ‘Prince’ took his place in the churchyard.

  It was the same year that Eton AC added Windsor to its name, and became Windsor and Eton AC.

  My final race at school was the one mile in the Annual School Sports. The record had stood for a little while at around 5 minutes 10 seconds, but I wanted to set a record that would stand for a while after I had disappeared from the scene. On the rough grass track that the goats used to trim, I ran the four laps in just 4 minutes 37 seconds. (For those who only understand metric distances and times, this would have been about 4:17 for 1,500 metres.) The record did stand for some years after that; in fact it may have carried through to the switch to metric distances. I did return to the School Sports a couple of times after this to run in the Old Boys v School relay.

  Shortly after this, came the time to leave school. Sport had been my school life and academic achievement suffered. I took a total of nine subjects for my ‘O’ levels and achieved just one; in Maths; although I could claim some near misses!

  We had some fun in that last year at school. I remember trousers of prefects, and on one occasion, a member of the staff’s being flown from the white flagpole.

  The headmaster had a 1934 green and black Austin 8 with running boards, and I remember we pushed it out into the middle of the school field and put a potato up the exhaust. Little did I know then that in 1960 I was to buy and own that treasured possession which I bought for just £5. I learnt to drive on it and then sold it to a scrap merchant for the same money. If only I had kept that splendid old car which was still in perfect working order.

  We were not a well-behaved year and were always in trouble for something, but it was all good natured and very rarely did the head have to use his cane.

  In August 1952, I was still cycling and went on holiday to my relatives in Tisbury, near Salisbury, and on a Saturday morning, I cycled the eighty-four miles back to Windsor and ran in the one mile at the Agars Plough Carnival in Slough in the afternoon. A meeting that I was to return to many times and enjoy. I won with a time of 4:29.6, one of the fastest times by a sixteen-year-old in those days.

  Before setting out into my career, I joined the first party of young people from Windsor to go on an exchange trip with Goslar in the Hertz Mountains near Hanover in Germany. This was Windsor’s new twin town, and we all had some brief lessons in the German language before we went on what, for many including myself, was a first-ever trip overseas.

  We travelled by sea from Harwich and then across Germany by train, and as this was only seven years after the war; the devastation was still obvious.

  While in Goslar, we went to a nearby running track where I ran what was to be my first ‘international race’. The best senior athlete from the local club was given the privilege of running against this young sixteen-year-old from Windsor over 3,000 metres. I won this first international challenge in my running career.

  One of our trips was to take us down a mine; my first but not last experience of this activity. I remember some of the tunnels were very low and they were extremely wet.

  Not all went well on this trip though, as we were taken on a sightseeing tour near to the East German border. After returning to our hosts later that day, I realised I had lost my passport. This caused a few sparks, because passports were highly valued in the East of Germany. However after much panic, the passport was recovered and returned to me, although I cannot remember exactly where it was found.

  The daughter of the family I stayed with, really did try to get her hands on me in more ways than one, but I resisted, as there were more attractive girls in our party. She did however get close to the family, when she eventually met my cousin while he was serving in the Educational Corps in Germany, and they eventually got married.

  Chapter Three: The Start of Ten Years in Uniform

  I made up my mind, long before leaving school, that I wanted to be a policeman. I think it was the adverts for Hong Kong Police and £1,000 a year that attracted me, but on my return from Germany, I joined the Berkshire Constabulary as a police cadet at Windsor. One of the first three in the county, and an interesting time.

  There were no radio communications at the time, and I remember receiving instruction in 1953 when the first radio was placed in the Windsor Police Station. I received one of the first messages over the airwaves. Not that top brass trusted this new method of communication. Many messages were still transmitted via the teleprinter and the telephone, so that a stolen car or missing person details could be received in triplicate. It took sometime for the powers that be to accept one method of receiving urgent messages.

  The first police dogs were recruited about the same time, and a little later the police frogmen team was formed in the Berkshire Police.

  I was present in uniform for the second royal funeral in a year; that of Queen Mary; and by coincidence I was placed at the foot of the steps of the Parish Church where I had been as a civilian one year earlier.

  I had an interesting two years as a police cadet. Duties were wide and various, and included going over the road to a working men’s cafe to buy meals for prisoners being held in the station cells; also cleaning the cells, running errands for the superintendent and working in both the general office and admin office. My errands used to include getting on my bike and going into the park to collect a brace of pheasants for the ‘Super’; a gift from the royal estate. I also collected occasional bottles of whisky from a local off-licence that had parking restrictions outside its premises, and where customers only ever received cautions if a police officer handed out tickets.

  After the first few months, I was issued with the special uniform of a cadet, and one of my duties was to collect cash from the bank and put the money into the pay envelopes for everyone from the superintendent down to me. I remember being very envious of the superintendent, who received over £20 a week, whilst my weekly pay was just about £3.

  One of the cells was an arsenal of all types of weapons; mainly I think surrendered in various amnesties after the war. On one occasion, close to Christmas, someone put a turkey in there for safekeeping. It was forgotten and we had mild weather, so the bird turned to maggots and flies. Guess who had to clean up all the weapons and other items in the cell!

  When the police opened a small s
ub-police station on the outskirts of Windsor, I manned this on my own during office hours. I was well looked after by the wives of the policemen who lived in the adjoining police houses; they kept me supplied with tea, cake and company.

  About the most exciting thing that happened to me there, was when a young lady came into the station one morning and said “I am going to have a baby.” “Yes” I said. “When?” “In the next few minutes I think” was the reply. I got the ambulance there very quickly!

  Part of my duties as a cadet, included sorting the wages out for all the policeman in Windsor, as mentioned earlier, which included the superintendent, Fred Salter, MVO. The pay details used to be given to me, and I would write up the pay packets with their appropriate deductions, and go to the bank to collect the cash. Then I would put the correct sums into each packet and make sure it balanced to the penny. A police constable in those days received about £7 per week and the ‘Super’ received something just over £20, but all had their little extras which could be three shillings (15p) for bicycle, two shillings (10p) for torch.

  When I was working at the main police station, I also used to make the tea and sell chocolate biscuits to those who worked in the police station, and always made a small profit. Another duty included looking after the switchboard and teleprinter, as well as showing guests into the superintendent’s office.

  A fairly frequent visitor was a young Army major from the Household Cavalry, Major the Marques of Douro, who is now the current Duke of Wellington, and whom I have met more recently, when he allowed me to organize running events on his estate at Stratfield Saye between Reading and Basingstoke. The ‘Super’ was always very formal on these visits, and would make a very pronounced and distinct bow when greeting his guest; a real hand in front and hand behind deep bow.

  My time as a police cadet was enjoyable and instructive, and I think it has helped me to have a responsible and fairly disciplined life. I certainly learned to type, make out reports, take phone messages and file complicated police files. Receiving phone calls was quite an art, and exact names and details of callers had to be taken; there could be no mistakes. Then there was the art of deflecting calls and callers that the superintendent would not want to be bothered with, or in many cases, no other senior person would want to be troubled with.

  In 1953, I won the Berkshire Youth 880 yards title in 2:6.2, which was faster than the winning time in either of the older age groups; the senior or junior. The runner-up to me was someone who I have known throughout my running life as a competitor, training partner and athletic enthusiast; Brian Bacon (Reading AC). Later I ran and won my first road race. It was 3.5 miles and was part of the Langley Fete near Slough. There was also a seven mile ‘marathon’ for seniors; these were the forerunners of today’s mass running events.

  While in Windsor as a police cadet, I belonged to the Windsor Parish Players and acted in a number of productions with them, including ‘Acacia Avenue’.

  I was always busy and spent most of my Sundays in church attending three or four services in my capacity as a chorister, server, and even as a Sunday School teacher.

  The social life revolved around a Christian club, the Anglican Young People’s Association (AYPA). They were a great crowd and eventually nearly all the members were married off to each other. These included Marion and myself, who were both members, and we enjoyed a wide variety of activities, including that violent sport, mixed hockey. There were more gentle pursuits, and a group of us would meet at my house on a Sunday evening after service and have a singsong around the piano; luckily several were quite accomplished on the piano. We also provided entertainment at various social events throughout the year.

  The dress for the young men at that time was a trilby hat, a walking stick and brothel creepers. At least that was what I used to pull the girls.

  Along with about six of them, I queued all day at the Albert Hall on one occasion to get into the ‘Last Night of the Proms’. We did not get a space on the floor, but managed to get standing room on about three or four balconies up. It was a great night, and although I have not been back, I always enjoy that special night on television and radio.

  There was never a dull moment in our lives, and I cannot understand how today, when there are so many more activities and opportunities, we hear young people protesting there is nothing to do. It is very sad, and they certainly have something lacking in their education and family life.

  Frequently on a Monday evening, it was off to the Theatre Royal to see the latest play; they changed every week, and a group of us had a seat in the ‘gods’, right at the back upstairs. There were some great characters at that theatre and I delivered the groceries to some of the top management. One actor who was there for many years, before making it onto television quite late in life, was Patrick Cargill.

  I knew my future wife Marion while we were both still at school, and I started to go out with her just after I had left, and when she was in her fifth year. The Royal Show was held in Windsor at that time, and I was on duty at the show, which required me to cycle past the girls’ school in my uniform. This got Marion into trouble for looking out of the window and eyeing up the young man in uniform. She also had the same problem a couple of years later, when I was going home to Windsor on leave from the Army. We had to wear uniform on weekend leave, and because she was seen with me, it was assumed by some that she was going out with soldiers from one of the local barracks. Some well-meaning but misinformed person tried to stir it up with Marion’s parents, but were promptly put in their place.

  I had a very good cross-country season at the start of 1954 and won ten races in a row, which prompted a small mention in the London Evening News after my ninth win:– Windsor and Eton Athletic Club in their first cross-country season, appear to have a real find in S. Eldon. His ninth successive victory was in a race between Windsor, Vale of Aylesbury and RAF Halton clubs.

  In March, I ran in the Southern Counties at Parliament Hill. I was in the Youth (under 18) age group, and there were 222 runners taking part. With three-quarters of a mile to go, I had won myself a good lead but disaster struck and running fast downhill, I had a heavy fall and was overtaken by four runners. I got up and fought on and with 600 yards to go had caught all but Nat Fisher (Eton Manor AC). We battled on over the last 400 yards, but the fall had taken its toll and Fisher broke the tape first. One report on the day blamed my failure to win on my race number which was 13! I then went on to Liverpool for the National Championship and came ninth out of an entry of 603.

  My running continued to go well, and on the Whit Holiday I ran my first of many races at the White City. I was only just eighteen, but ran for Berkshire in the Inter Counties meeting as I had won the county three mile in a new record time of 14:43.6. I finished ninth out of the twenty-nine taking part, behind a man who I was to clash with many times in the future, Gordon Pirie. In the Reading Trophies Meeting, held at Palmer Park, Reading, in June, I won the Junior mile against a field of thirty-six runners, including John Herring, who was ranked second in the country at the distance in the previous season, and many county champions. It was a very wet weekend, and according to reports of the day, the track was largely underwater. In those days of cinder tracks, if it was wet it normally meant finishing a race with half the track sprayed up your back, and running on this type of track almost turned into cross-country running.

  I continued to run for the club and breaking records right up to my call-up in the second week of July. My club records at that time were 880 yards, 2:0.6; mile, 4:23.2; two miles, 9:28.5, and three miles, 14:43.6.

  I finished third in the Southern Counties mile at Battersea Park with 4:23.2, behind Roger Dunkley 4:19 (the fastest ever junior miler at that stage with 4:12), and Laurie Reed 4:22. My very last match before entering the Army, was against Finchley Harriers and Watford Harriers. I won the mile again in 4:23.2, and the 880 yards in 2:0.6. This latter record was my thirteenth
for the club.

  Chapter Four: National Service in the Redcaps

  The next step in my life was National Service, and I remember being asked to list my choices in order of preference. I did select the Army and listed my top choice as the Horse Guards, who were stationed at the bottom of my garden; although that was not the reason for that choice. They had a very good athletic team at that time, and I had got to know their sergeant major PE instructor, as he coached at the athletic club. My second choice was logical, it was the Military Police, because I intended picking up my police career when I finished my two years’ service.

  My call-up came in early July 1954, just two months after my eighteenth birthday. Where was I going, and what unit was I going to? It was none of my preferred choices; not even number six on the list. I was off to Catterick Camp and the 3rd Signals Regiment. It was pretty tough there, being kept on the go all day with square-bashing, and being woken as early as 5 a.m. on the whim of some little corporal. The food was terrible. I don’t think I have ever had anything anywhere to come even close to the shocking standard of food at Catterick Camp.

  Fortunately this did not last long as after two weeks of square-bashing and guard duty (we were not let loose with rifles but carried pickaxe handles as our weapons), and where on one occasion I was in trouble for allowing the Yorkshire sheep to enter the barracks and attack the colonel’s roses, I was summoned by the unit commander and told I was on the move. He was not happy because I had kept my athletic prowess quiet, and at the same time he received the orders to ship me out, he had received a letter from the secretary of my athletic club at Windsor, Len Runyard, who was possibly the nearest I ever had to a coach. It explained how good I was and could expect to be, and asking that I be allowed to continue my progress in the Army. The Signals Regiment had a very good reputation for looking after sportsmen, and they had rugby league players, footballers and Ken Norris, whom I subsequently took the British record for six miles from, had also been at Catterick a couple of years earlier, as were several league footballers, rugby league players and boxers.