Danny says "Where my Caravan hath Rested"
First, you must Go on a Course, for it is a fixed belief in the RAF that anybody can do anything so long as they have Been on a Course. At that time the RAF Fire Service were based at RAF Catterick. I think the Course was for a fortnight, full time, so I must have been detached from Linton for the purpose.
Now from where did I commute ? I think that we were still in N.Yorkshire, for I remember the run across country to Catterick (30 mi) would take about 40 mins, and that seems about what I remember for the journey. We reckon that we stayed in Marton until the end of November, then decamped temporarily to the Westminster Hotel at Clifton (north end of York), for winter was coming (and what a winter it would prove to be !) and it was only 10 miles from Linton.
It was a cosy and comfortable little place (and we stayed almost to Christmas there). The first snows had come, and our next move was to a hiring in "The Paddock" a little cul-de-sac of semis out on the Boroughbridge Road in York. We were not far from a giant sugar-beet factory some way behind the houses. As the product is sugar, you might suppose sweet airs would always emanate from the place - well, they don't. But otherwise it was a fair enough spot; there were plenty of small shops nearby; York (about 4 miles) was handy enough for big shopping, besides being a fabulous piece of history to explore.
One journey of that time will live with me always. We wanted both our mothers and Iris's brother to spend Christmas ('62) with us in the Paddock, so I went across to the Wirral to bring mine. There had been a dump of snow, the Pennines were covered, but the lower main roads were clear and dry. My route I knew like the back of my hand - Liverpool, Preston, Skipton, Blubberhouses, Harrogate, York...... Easy.
I picked mother up, and started back in the sunny afternoon. Five miles short of Preston the screen went. There were no cars running ahead or oncoming past me - it couldn't have been a stone strike. It was very cold outside, the heater had been going full blast. Perhaps thermal stress ? But though all the screen was "crumbled", it held in place. Gingerly I poked out a hole about ten inches across, just enough to see through, and crept into Preston.
Halford's was not hard to find; celluloid sheet on the shelf (sidescreen and rear windows for the sidecars and sports cars of those days). Cut a piece to size with a wide overlap to cover the hole, sellotape to outside of screen, cup of tea, back on the road again. I was taking a chance that there would be no more rain or snow, for I daren't use the wipers.
We started to climb, soon it was white underfoot as I slowly and steadily weaved round the hill bends to the flat top of the Pennines. There was no traffic, it was full dark now and very lonely on the moors! At last we began to reach the long downhill straights into Harrogate, bright lights again, only twenty miles to go now. Piece of cake ! Gladstone Garages, Layerthorpe (Ągence Peugeot, York) put a new screen in, but I was finding bits of glass crumb in hidden corners of the car for ages. Then we had a lovely, happy Christmas !
There had been heavy snow over the holiday, but by now the "Winter of the
Century" ('62/'63) had all Britain in its grip. A giant "high" was stationary over the British Isles, for about six weeks the temperature in the NE didn't rise above freezing day or night. Birds froze to the branchs in the trees. The earth was iron-hard, you couldn't get a spade into it to raise a root vegetable (we had a back garden full of parsnips, but could hardly get one out). The only saving grace was: there was some thin sunshine and little or no wind.
Ironically, if there had been wind-farms at that time, you wouldn't have got a single Kwh out of any of them - (with the load on the grid at its peak - our house was crammed with electric fires). No one who lived through that winter will ever forget it.
We were there till early summer, then a MQ was offered to us - at Breighton ! This was right out in the wilds, some 15 mi SE of York. An old bomber station, it had enjoyed a brief new life as a Bloodhound site until they finished, too. But in that time they'd built one OMQ - a S/Ldr's house for the CO - and when he went the house was dumped on Linton to look after. But being at the back of beyond, it had found no takers.
We had a look at it, and reasoned thus: Mary had only just turned three; schools were not a pressing problem. It was very quiet, about a mile outside Bubwith village. There was no traffic. Mary had graduated to her first "proper" bike (on stabilisers !) by then. The house had plenty of room, and a big garden surrounded by farmland. York was only 30 minutes away, Selby in easy reach. We decided to take it.
Next time I really must say something about the Fire Course and (what was it, now ?)...... Oh yes - Linton-on-Ouse !
Good night, all,
Danny 42C.
"Let Nothing ye Dismay"
PS: Smudge, I suppose "Take your time" or "Don't hurry" would be about right. Danny.
Last edited by Danny42C; 27th Feb 2014 at 21:20.
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