Suddenly Claude was interrupted when there came a knock on his door, as he looked up a head with a smiling black face appeared and said “Hello, Masa you Mista Friendly, I is Kate a relief nurse for Sally who is am sick today. You is about early, is you well?”
Claude smiled thinking of the passages he had just written and whilst closing down the page for fear she might read the contents, replied, “Why yes nurse I am very well, what a pleasure to meet you.”
He need not have worried she smiled and left without entering the room.
He looked at the clock it was time he was getting out of his night attire and into some civilised clothing. He went to the bathroom washed, shaved and changed. On leaving his room he met Joe his neighbour, carrying a book as per usual but protruding Claude was as certain as he might be that he saw a betting slip. He said nothing and the two arrived at breakfast soon to be joined by Angelina Prim.
The feasting done the three made their way to the lounge. Angelina then joined some ladies and the conversation appeared to be as far as Claude could hear was upon the subject of patterns. Charles the handyman appeared causing Joe to leave his seat and walk over to speak with him. He left his newspaper on the chair and Claude could see the horseracing page had several rings around entries. Looking toward the gossiping duo Claude felt sure Joe had quietly handed Charles a slip of paper.
Claude was seated alone for a while when Joe returned and unusually did not immediately commence to read but turned and said to Claude “How are you getting on with the Book on the Busies” (Police, to the reader unfamiliar with Liverpool expressions)
Claude was just about to reply when Angelina returned and said “How is the book going Claude?”
“Very well,” replied Claude, “I was just about to tell Joe here the same thing.”
Joe laughed as he opened his book and replied. “I tell you what Wack; you could well put me in that book.” “I recall as a boy I was a little bugger I once saw two coppers talking on the side of the road and as I passed one said, “Hello son are you well?”
I replied to him as we did where we lived in Liverpool when coppers spoke to us. “I am not supposed to speak with you unless my lawyer is here.”
They laughed and I thought that was the end of the matter. Some weeks later I saw the same two officers again, they were on school crossing duty. Children walking passed said hello to them and they replied in the same fashion.
As I passed by one officer said “Don’t say hello to him, he hasn’t got his lawyer with him.” They burst out laughing to each other.
The story told, a laugh gained, Joe was once again became engrossed in his reading causing Claude to tell Angelina he had made a start on his book, time would tell if it would result in a good read.
The remainder of the day passed as usual, residents sitting, sleeping or watching the box. Some in their rooms sewing various items which, it had been decided would, eventually be sold in the town. The money raised to buy goodies for the residents at Christmas. The detail of how the sale would take place was yet to be established. Matron Raving was not seen much at least not within the areas frequented by the residents but Claude had sight of her from time to time as she took the fresh air and other wonders along the canal side.
Claude plodded on slowly but surely with his book, spending some time thinking back over the years attempting to recall more of his own experiences and recalling what others had related to him.
Arriving in the lounge one afternoon he was seated only a short while when one of the carers arrived and was cleaning the tables. Her name was Blodwen and made no secret of the fact she was Welsh born and speaking. Claude had associated with her for he himself was born in Wales and having his birth registered there he had always claimed Welsh citizenship realising to claim nationality was a step too far.
Blodwen went over to the staff workstation found the handset for the television and changed the channel. That was a risk thought Claude if Matron Raving was to learn of staff doing so she would have been very annoyed. Worse was to come for the channel chosen by Blodwen was the Welsh National Eisteddfod in North Wales. To compound her crime the programme was being broadcast in Welsh. Claude sat, made no comment but thought he would await to witness any response, it was the staff break time so there was a chance Blodwen might get away with her crime, providing no one to quote a Welsh phrase “canted (reported) on her.
Whilst he sat there his viewing interest waned and he recalled a visit he had once made with his father to the small Welsh town of Cefn Bont near his home.
His father a keeper of cage birds was also a showman. One Saturday they had visited a show held at the nearby Miners Welfare hall. The show over, father and son were waiting at a bus stop with their show boxes and cages.
A police officer arrived and nodded a greeting of hello. He was armed with a black walking stick, called in those days a “Night stick.” It had been the practice for police officers to carry such a stick almost from time immemorial; even Pc George had one, as his father was a personal witness and what such a stick could do if required.
Whilst standing waiting, the constable was amusing himself by hitting his stick on the ground, it then rebounded upwards; the officer caught it and repeated the action, repeatedly.
Thinking of the Welsh officer caused Claude to remember how as a serving officer he had dealings with various welsh police forces over many years. During his service he had always found officers in Welsh forces to be very cooperative. Whenever an enquiry was made with any of them they readily assisted with enquiries and they always seemed to know all the residents and everything about them within their area. This thought Claude thinking of his child hood was the case even between residents certainly within the community where he was brought up, some might call it nosey he thought.
He smiled as his mind reverted to the night of the visit to the bird show. The constable had remained standing near the bus stop for some minutes when a uniformed sergeant arrived. The two began to converse in Welsh and whilst they were in conversation the constable was still amusing himself with his stick, down and up, down and up.
After a few minutes a man obviously the worse for drink approached the officers. Harry Friendly recognised the man as a fellow miner at his colliery. He said to Claude
“Look out here is Guyo (pronounced in Welsh Guto) there may be trouble say nothing keep still.”
Guyo began to shout and waive his arms in a fight stance as he approached the officers.
The Sergeant was the first to speak.
Welsh: “Mae Cwnstabl Jones yn meddwl bod Guto Evans eisicu gair gyda FO.”
English: “Constable Jones looks like Guyo Evans wants a word.”
The Constable replied.
Welsh: “Mi ddaru fi ei lechio allan or Cross keys dydd Sadwrn diwethaf Sarsiant.”
English: “I chucked him out of the Cross Keys last Saturday night Sergeant.”
The Sergeant said.
Welsh: “Edrych fel ei fod wedi cael llond bel o gwrw hefyd Jones.”
English: “Seems he’s had another skin full Jones.”
Constable Jones laughed and said
Welsh: “Fe Wnawn anwybyddu fo sarsiant ac ella bydd wedi cael digon ac mi aiff adra.
English: “Just ignore him Sergeant he’ll get fed up and go home.
Guyo arrived by the officers waiving his fists, the officers ignored him and Constable Jones continued to bounce his stick onto the ground and as it rose he caught it.
Guyo then shouted.
Welsh: “Tyrd ymlaen Jones-cod dwi isio cwffio.”
English: “Come on Jones fight for it.”
Constable Jones didn’t look at him but then said to Guyo.
Welsh: “Byhafia dy hun guto a dos adra.”
English: “Behave yourself, go home.”
The officers continued to converse with each other ignoring Guyo who continued to wave his fists and said.
Welsh: “Dwi isio cwffio.”
English: “I want to
fight.”
Pc Jones repeated his advice, turned and said to Guyo.
Welsh : “Guto dos Adra.”
English: “Guyo Go home.”
The saga continued for some minutes Guyo threatening the officer who continued advising him to go home. Suddenly Guyo threw a punch at the Constable who at lightening speed moved his head to the left causing the punch to miss. Simultaneously as his stick bounced upwards he grasped it and just nudged Guyo under the chin with the knob portion, which was above his hand. Guyo instantly fell like a stone to the ground and was knocked out.
Both officers looked down, the Constable said to the Sergeant.
Welsh: “Bydd Rhaid I Mi ei Gario Adra rwan.”
English: “I will have to carry him home now.”
The Sergeant nodded his approval. Pc Jones bent down picked Guyo lifted him over his shoulder and walked off through the town with the drunk in that position, presumably to his home, still fast asleep.
“The bus arrived and Father and I climbed on board and were off home.”
Claude recalled how looking back it was the most exciting part of the day, but then as a small boy he would think that now wouldn’t he.
Attaining the age of 11 years Claude was attending Hafod primary school then one day, an event was to take place that would affect him and others in their future lives. It was mid morning the class rose from their desks and were soon on a bus which arrived at a large school in the nearby town of Oswald’s Tree.
Sitting at tables in a large hall throughout the day a succession of papers were placed in front of the children from the village school. Claude recalled how he had never before seen the images and other items on the paper. The day over the whole class returned to their own school and onwards to their homes.
It would be years before Claude was to understand what had occurred that day and the consequences for him and all his classmates. He had in fact sat the 11 plus examination. It was something they had not been prepared for and as a result not one pupil passed the examination.
Those in the village who were successful had attended the nearby private school, which had instructed pupils in the type of questions asked.
The next school Claude attended was a Secondary Modern school and although Claude did not realise it every pupil attending would be a failure including him.
Many years later upon the death of his parents Claude found some of his school books, he took them home and they were stored until when researching for this book he came across them and on reading through he discovered a small essay a narrative of the start of which is given below.
The Police Force.
I am fourteen years old I leave school at the end of the summer term. When I leave school I would like to join the Police force. I would firstly join as a cadet.
In the cadets they teach you engineering, typing, first aid and physical training. The cadets also go to camp and go one to join the police force.
Having left school at the age of 15 years Claude was to realise why he and his fellow pupils had been failures, how the visit to the school in Oswald’s Tree would have such serious and long lasting consequences. Secondary Modern schools did not teach to General Certificate of Education standard. When the pupils left school the most they could expect to receive in the form of qualifications was not the G.C.E but the Modern School Certificate. Without the G.C.E no pupil could attend a University and study to become a Lawyer, Doctor or any other profession. The best that could be achieved in the medical profession was a nurse and in the law, a police officer. For this reason Claude was pleased with introduction of comprehensive education when such qualification opportunities for higher education were available to all.
On leaving school at the age of 15 years he was too young to attempt to join the police service, the minimum age for which was 19 years. He found employment in the building Industry as an apprentice Bricklayer. The company was small and the employer refused to permit Claude to attend the day release course as part of the apprenticeship course.
He left there after a year on his father’s advice and found employment at the local colliery, not as a miner but as a bricklayer. He was to meet up with some old school pals who were employed there as electricians or fitters. All apprentices attended day release courses at technical colleges.
He did work from time to time underground when building was required there. What a different world he realised his father and his neighbours had worked in to make a living. Pitch dark save for the light of a headlamp, his father often reminded him of the necessity to leave the industry as soon as he could and said. “The pit is a terrible place.”
There was so much dust that if one placed a hand up it could not be seen for dust in the atmosphere. Claude soon came to realise why the old men in the village who had been miners could be seen walking at a snail’s pace and gasping for breath. If one stopped to speak with them they said between the coughing and gasping, “The dust, it’s the dust.”
Life for miners underground was not only dusty, but also hard and dangerous work, men injured at work was commonplace; deaths were not so frequent but did occur.
Because of this safety laws were passed to enforce safety examples of which thought Claude, he was to use later in life as a police officer.
When miners arrived for work they changed from their ordinary clothes into “Working clothes,” old worn out items. When they arrived at the pithead they were searched by two deputies or foreman, line managers in these modern times. Cigarettes and matches and other inflammable items were banned underground for fear of explosion from gas. Any such items were confiscated.
When underground it was so hot on or near the coal face that miners worked dressed only in shorts and a vest.
Riding on machines or conveyor belts was another offence. Should miners be caught committing any of these offences they were reported to the colliery manager and subsequently appeared before him? The hearing went like this.
The Manager, “You have been caught committing this offence do you admit doing it.”
If the answer was no, there was an investigation and a hearing but normally the answer was “Yes.”
The Manager then said, “You can be dealt with by me or you can go to court, which direction do you choose?”
The answer was invariably “By you.”
The Manager then invoked the fixed fine as displayed on the warning signs and said “ Five pounds (example) will be deducted from your pay and donated to Cefn Cottage Hospital which the mine sponsors, sign this form to donate the money.”
Claude smiled and recalled how he himself had copied the system albeit unlawfully and used the method on more than one occasion when a serving police officer.
The causes on death and serious injuries were often as a result of roof falls in which men often became buried. One local man was involved in such an incident and became “Fast,” a make shift shelter was made over him to prevent the roof constantly falling on him but all efforts to release him failed. Finally a doctor was called underground and his leg was amputated on the coalface, but the man known as “Big Ted” died.
Claude was reminded of the day his father arrived home from work early and as he did so he stopped talking to an off shift miner at the house front gate and recalled this story.
“Home early Harry, are you on strike?” Asked the man passing by.
“No Len,” replied my father and then said “They had just fired on the face (Bored holes into the coal face then placed in explosives to blow the coal from the coal face ready to be cleared) it was snapping (meal break) time so whilst they were pushing over the conveyor belt we all come off the face for something to eat. The last to come was Garth the foreigner when he came out alone the fireman (Foreman) said, “Where is Fred.”
Garth replied, “He is in there, buried.”
The seated miners immediately left off eating and went onto the coalface and sure enough Fred was there and buried, it took 15 minutes to dig him out. The Fireman asked Garth why
he had left his mate.
He replied, “We fell out last week, we are not speaking.”
My father ended by saying, “We have refused to work with Garth and we have all come home.”
From that time on the man was moved to another job in the colliery and the incident was relayed from miner to miner, house-to-house pub to Miners Institute and for many years Garth was a man alone. Such was the comradeship among miners.
Claude had not forgotten his desire to become a Police Officer and so some weeks prior to his 19th birthday he commenced to make enquiries.
Whilst working at the colliery one day he was introduced to a miner from a nearby village, a work mate of his father. The man related this story to him.
“I was once in the police. I served in the First World War and after demob I joined the Liverpool City Police. The money was poor, the hours long, and no pay for overtime, the conditions were hard. We also drove the city ambulances in addition to our police work. We decided to do something about it and so plans were put into motion to form a Union. The Government didn’t like it, especially when we made it known we were going to go on strike. Come the time after secret meetings it was decided when the strike was to start, telegrams would be sent out to all police stations. There were few phones and telegrams were the only way. When they were sent out, the post office read them and reported it to the Government who stopped delivery. As a result only a few police stations including some in Liverpool and London went on strike, the rest didn’t, not knowing about it. The Government then agreed to the police demands providing they did not have a union but a federation with no powers as it is today. The thing was, all of us who did go on strike were sacked and so here I am down the bloody pit.”
Police Memories Page 10
