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Anecdotes & Memories from Waterguard 'Digs' |
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The Anecdotes & Memories from the Waterguard Divisions listed below have their own sub-pages to facilitate faster browsing and for ease of maintenance. They can be viewed in the normal way by selecting the appropriate 'button.' |
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'Reference to Luton Airport reminds me of the Fox Inn at Darnley Hall, which I think it was close to the airport and run by Arthur and Stella. It was mainly used by Immigration but I stayed there for a while as did Brian Davies PO. Poor Arthur was an alcoholic and eventually died in a fire in the pub, some say he accidentally set it alight.
Greene King was the brew and it was nice to have it on tap but the mild was best kept away from as it had the effect of several vindaloos. Stella was the only person I have met who loved ironing uniform shirts - bless her. She eventually retired to a Licence Victualler's cottage and used to pop up at the airport on her way back from Jersey.' - Edward Sadler
'I was interested to see mention of the Fox at Darnley Hall, Luton Airport run by Stella and Arthur. Arthur did in fact set fire to the pub and burn it down killing himself in the process when he apparently filled his Tommy petrol lighter.
Chris Ballard and I stayed in the pub one wonderful summer where we also shared accommodation I recall, with Jimmy McGregor of broken rib and footballing fame. Stella was great, charging as I recall just £1 a week - or was it a day, the memory fades! - which included breakfast and a meal as long as one of us removed Arthur's sleeping body from behind the bar each afternoon after he had drunk his customary bottle of Vodka.
Stella used to sleep in the bath but would always make sure that her 'boys' were allowed use of the facilities before she retired for the night, after that one had to use the garden!.' - Steve Hill
'Did anyone else stay with retired farmers Elsie and Sid Barnet and their retired sheep dog Jim in Diseworth beside East Midlands Airport?
Myself and fellow Scot Sandy Gray stayed their whilst on summer DD in '67. They were used to going out into the farmyard and killing something when hungry and we were fed regally however Mrs B did a "hot pot " which was a particularly revolting concoction. Sandy was sitting at the table one day following a particularly heavy aircrew party feeling decidedly green about the gills when Mrs B came through from the kitchen announcing that she had cooked "our favourite" - the hot pot.
Sandy looked at his plate . . . . . then at Jim . . . . . the dog made short shrift of the dish.
Mrs B returned and saw Sandy's empty plate. She returned to the kitchen and fetched the hot pot saying "oh Sandy you are hungry tonight" and dolloped a load on the plate Jim had just licked, and sat down at the table. After a passing attempt at eating his seconds Mr Grays gills were even greener than before' - David Bowie
'My best digs were Frank & Anne in Odo Street Dover. I can't remember their family name. They were retired from domestic service, Anne being a superb cook and Frank being a chauffeur. They had one rule only "Don't come home legless unless you wanted to find new digs the next day". Otherwise it was home from home. Whatever shift you were on there was always a meal or snack available and you were welcome to share their lounge in the evening. Happy days eh?.' - Barrie Tyson
'I take the liberty of mentioning a digs used by Officers at Luton Airport in the 60's. I never stayed there myself but colleagues told many stories. The establishment was run by a lady affectionately known as Mad Ede. In addition to running a guest house she also worked at the airport. Amongst her many eccentricities guests were served unused airline passenger meals served in their foil containers complete with plastic cutlery. This was particularly disconcerting to some because if on Boarding duties the Officers had already consumed one or two similar meals during their shift. Oh happy days.' - John Barber
' Regarding Mad Ede, was this the lady who had a rather large overflow caravan to accommodate officers who were unable to get a room in the house?' - JJ Metcalfe
'I happily recall digs at 8 Norman Street Dover. The house was run by Ros Pearson along with her husband Stan. There were two daughters. Ros had two twin bedded rooms which she only let to Waterguard. She started around 1964. From 1965 on she would only take APOs as POs were far too much trouble and drank to excess. This myth we APOs actively encouraged.
Amongst her first boarders were three guys from Scotland down on summer DD ~ they included Dave Bryce and Byron Simm. Byron took to religion mid-season and resigned the job calling the Waterguard a bunch of sinners! I joined the trio in July 1965. Later residents include Mike Goss, John Joyes, Mike Popplewell, Mike Davis, Jim Flockhart, Andy Wessier,etc.
The house was close to the "Red Cow" public house, home of PSA meetings. The annual meeting to discuss Conference AGM motions was often extended to the following week as a 22:30 closing time usually bought the meeting to an abrupt halt.
Another favorite watering hole within staggering distance was "The Park" where Charlie the barman and George the landlord helped us avoid inconveniences such as licensing hours. Many a time the whole group would decamp to Norman Street clutching the required refreshments. The pub was also used by Immigration and local CID. Its location was not ideal as its situated opposite the local nick. Late one night the duty inspector did a round and demanded entry. The sight of Waterguard, Immigration and local detectives climbing the back garden wall lives on in my mind. Happy days!' - Mick Millen
'The best I had was Ma Banks at Dover and I bet many people remember her. The worst is a long story and you'd never believe it anyway.' - Trevor Creese
'At Dover in 1953, I remember my landlady was a Mrs. Bowes in the village of River. I was there with Ron Saunders and Mike Moffat.' - David Nichols.
'Mrs Bowen & her husband Tom must have been in their mid seventies when Mal Jones APO and I first went there as supernumerary APO's in 1958. Her family had run a thriving ironmongers business in Pembrokeshire from the 1800's but now it was on its last legs and the sole remaining shop was opposite our digs. It was in this shop that Mrs Bowen worked with her brother and two Sisters, and a more eccentric bunch I could not imagine. Apart from Mrs Bowen their life was dominated by the pleasures of the glass, and this probably accounted for the demise of the business. The shop was like a gloomy Aladdin's cave, illuminated by oil lamps, and containing a treasure trove of Dickensian stock which was unsaleable at the time but would now feature on the Antiques Road Show. Probably due to their alcoholic excesses fights amongst the siblings were a regular feature, frying pans being the weapons of choice. It was in these bizarre surroundings that Mrs Bowen would cook many of our meals and she was regularly to be seen scurrying across the High Street carrying plated lunches.
Tom kept a low profile whilst all this went on, he suffered with chronic emphysema and spent most of his time hunched over the Aga cooker in number 5, with a fag in his mouth, coughing and spluttering into whatever pot was bubbling on the hob. He had a small black dog called Butch which looked like a miniature bulldog; apparently it was a Boston Terrier. It was similarly afflicted with either a chest condition or blocked sinuses and was prone to discharging mucus over all surfaces. Tom was in charge of preparing our evening 'tiffin' and his words of greeting were always the same. "What do you want for tea good boy, egg it is?"
It was a very old town house, accommodation being on three levels. Mr & Mrs Bowen slept on the upper floor and each night Tom, having first consumed a few pints at Bennett's pub, would struggle up the stairs to bed armed with a packet of Bristol tipped cigarettes and a large enamel bucket for his nocturnal needs, in the morning he would struggle downstairs with a bucket full to the brim topped with floating fag ends. One morning at about 6am we were awakened by an almighty crash on the second landing. On his way down stairs Tom had fallen and ended up on his backside sitting on the now crushed enamel bucket, the unsavoury contents of which were flowing down the stairs. Life at number 5 was never dull and I think the whole set up would have provided endless material for a TV sit-com.' - Peter A Hopkins
'Mrs Inskip at Southend (Westcliff actually) only took Customs Officers and being Southend you could expect all ranks from APO to Senior Principal. The particular oddity about these digs was that you often received your early morning tea served by a member of the Board of Customs and Excise! A lifelong friend of Mrs Inskip was Gordon Pitt - former Chief Inspector and Director Outfield at the time - who frequently stayed with her and made himself useful about the house - as they say. He was a very friendly and chatty chap.' - Trevor Creese
'Mrs Jones, with ubiquitous fag, was from farming stock, used to catering for men of the soil with gargantuan appetites. Her idea of fish and chips was just that, a whole cod, eyes and all, and a shed full of chips. I was there one January in the company of Eric Davis APO when almost every meal consisted of a mountain of mashed potatoes with a cold turkey leg sticking out of it. We reckoned that her Christmas turkey had been crossed with a centipede.
Mrs Jones had her favourite lodgers, the two that I recall were Islwyn Rees PO from Fishguard, he could do no wrong, she consulted him on all matters domestic and he was even allowed to poke the nutty slack on the miserable fire in the living room. Then there was Trevor Jenkins PO Swansea, who got most of his sustenance from a glass, she would say of him "I likes Mr Jenkins, he pays me £4-10 shillings a week and he don't eat no food", In contrast, and for no known reason, Reg Donaldson PO Swansea she could not abide and would not even speak to him. She would address him through Islwyn, "Mr Rees ask that old man what he wants for his tea" and this was in front of Reg.
When she asked Joe Patrick PO Cardiff why he had no teeth, he convinced her that he had a set of false teeth that he shared with his wife and this month it was her turn to wear them.
Eric Davis and I took ale one evening and finished it off with a handsome portion of Dublin Bay prawns we had acquired. Unfortunately this combination did not agree with Eric and he was taken poorly. During his worst moments Mrs Jones was screaming "Mr Rees get the doctor, Alec's got 'di sentry'" She always referred to Eric as Alec and 'di sentry' sounds to me like a Welshman on guard duty outside Buckingham Palace.
My relationship with Mrs Jones finally came to grief one night when I requested use of the bath, permission was granted and I was having a relaxing soak when I heard Mrs Jones banging on the bathroom door and shouting, "Get out, get out, what are you doing in there we're flooded". Having made myself respectable, I discovered water pouring through the bedroom ceiling onwards through the floorboards and downstairs into the sitting room. The problem was the ball-cock valve in the loft header tank had jammed open and the overflow pipe was clogged, hence the flood. All was resolved when we switched off the water at the mains and unclogged the pipe, but the damage was done and despite my protestations of innocence, it was my entire fault. My time with Mrs Jones had run out.' - Peter A Hopkins
'I remember the tale of a landlady called Mrs Lush at Harwich who did all the housework and cooking dressed only in a pinafore - I believe the food was very good!' - Trevor Creese
'On return to Harwich from London Airport in 1967 I went to Vert House, Beach Road, Dovercourt, Harwich - French for Green - as Mrs Moore the landlady used to tell all and sundry. I think at that time Dave Boughton, Pat Simmons and Mike Moore were lodging there with me, as well as a few Stothert and Pitt workers who were putting up the gantry cranes on Parkeston Quay. Mrs Moore sold up just before they left and the new incumbents found they only had a few APOs to support their family. Needless to say the food quality soon went down and the APOs soon left as well. - Ron Richardson
'I wonder how many remember the formidable Mrs. Newman at Baxter Avenue, Southend on Sea? She had us packed 4 to a room in bunk beds. Few meals were prepared without the use of her trusty Kenwood Chef food mixer and it was always touch and go as to whether the long curl of ash projecting from the fag in the corner of her mouth would be added to the ingredients. She raced greyhounds - her favourite was called "Honey" - which were kept in the house, and we were in Mrs. Newman's good books if we volunteered to take them for a walk.' - Cliff Davies
'There was also Mrs Orr who had about 3/5 flats in Langshot Street, Glasgow. A good selection of human life lodged there and if you were not about for meal times - tough luck! It was not far from Ibrox Park, Rangers home ground.' - Edward Sadler
'I remember, when on DD at LAP in 1963, my landlady was Mrs Pledger who was a great home wine producer. The space under the floorboards there contained many demi-johns of homemade wines.' - David Nichols
'My first digs were with Mrs R ( Rowland) in Orwell Terrace, Dovercourt when I joined Harwich as my Home Port in October 1965. There she had a miscellany of APOs and IOs, we were well looked after as I recall and could tell the day of the week by the evening meal. How she tolerated us all I don't know.' - Ron Richardson
'It was 6 Orwell Terrace, I was there for 2 1/2 years, well looked after by Mrs R. There was no central heating in those days. I arrived on fixation in November 1962, and it was rather a cold winter, in fact Harwich was cut off for 3 days, well even more cut off than usual.' - Peter Boot
'The most memorable thing about my three months at the Waterguard Training Centre was the 'digs'. Mrs. Scorey, the landlady, was in her early 70s and before taking on the Waterguard, had specialised in 'theatricals' as a source of paying guests. A fact she appeared very proud of, comparing her three APO guests very unfavourably.
The very first evening should have warned me. She asked the three of us if we would like coffee after dinner. Yes we would. Pouring mine she asked 'How would you liked it?' 'Black' I said. 'Is that black enough?' she asked, pouring about a teaspoonful of milk into my coffee!
One night we decided to stay in. There being no TV in the house, we were amusing ourselves playing variations of poker. Mrs. Scorey thought this a little decadent and so around 9.30pm she sat at the piano encouraging us to 'sing-a-long' to old music hall songs. When we continued playing cards she left the room, turned the lights off at the fuse box and announced that as we all had to be at work in the morning, it was time we were all in bed.
But most bizarre of all was one morning at breakfast when we noticed Mrs. Scorey was limping and had a bandage seeping blood on her shin. She assured us all was well and scurried back to the kitchen for the toast. When she didn't return we waited about 10 minutes and then I volunteered to see if all was indeed well. None of us had ventured into that part of the house before so I was unsure of what to expect. I found Mrs. Scorey sat at the kitchen table drinking tea with her leg up on another chair. But, also on the table was her pet hen eating its breakfast . . . . chopped up fried egg!
Mrs. Scorey had forgotten the toast and was resting her leg which she had injured with a hand chopper 'Whilst chasing the hen' she explained. I thought it best not to enquire further!' - Trevor Tomasin
'I recall Waterguard digs in Southend where six of us stayed for our whole APO course with Mrs Scorey, Cranley Avenue, Westcliff. I recall she had a habit of leaving the gas on. But, she always got up to see us off to our secondments no matter what time it was in the morning.' - Len Donald
'I stayed with Mrs Scorey in January/February 1965 together with other APOs including Nick Baker. At that time she also had artistes from the pantomime at the theatre down the road staying. I remember the leading lady being a miss Silvia Eaves, of advancing years whom Mrs Scorey idolised, and the lead male being Edmund Hockeridge, a singer of popularity a few years before. He was Canadian and his agent had booked him for the Panto, something quite strange to him but for a fading star - a godsend. Mrs Scorey treated all of us like "her boys" and nothing was too much trouble. Despite her advanced years, and being a little forgetful, she was up all hours cooking and sewing costumes for the Panto and seeing us off. She even bought a new television so we could watch Winston Churchill's funeral on a new set!' - Barrie Riley
'My APO course was during the winter of 1970 when power cuts were commonplace. I shared a room with two other APOs, Tom McGeown and Ralph Bigrigg at Boscombe Road, Southend under the care of Mrs Sheriff. The food wasn't too bad but there was never enough of it! One evening during a power cut Mrs Sheriff announced that she was unable to provide the evening meal due to lack of electricity. Grudgingly we accepted this but it wasn't until some days later we discovered that she cooked with gas! ' - Dermot Hegarty
'One of our better digs on the mobile was Mrs Smith, a Shetland islander, on Gunton Cliffs where you had a great view over the sea, good food, and her little quirk - tea and iced buns when you came in after a skinful in Lowestoft or Yarmouth.' - Peter Boot
'The doors were locked at 11pm and Mr. Studd didn't look kindly on having to get out of bed to open up.' - Charles Beckett
'I stayed at the Studd Farm when I was on my training course in 1967. She had also booked the rooms for an American Football team so we were asked to leave just prior to our final exam. If you remember they worked a system where if you were there for so many nights of the week you paid a daily rate as opposed to a weekly rate. Even though we were requested to move out because of her mistake, we were expected to pay the higher of the two. After a discussion we were eventually charged the cheaper rate.' - Neil Fox
'I stayed with Mrs Throssell in Pembury Avenue Westcliff for the 9 week training course. What a mistake it was to continue the course on New Year's Day 1968, starting at the usual time. There were many heavy heads that morning. They were great digs, the food was really good and from memory there were 5 Customs lads there including David John Owen, the instructor, from Dover Collection. What a gent, always had a handkerchief tucked up his left sleeve for emergency action.' - Trevor Jones
'I stayed at Pembury Avenue with Eric Pople and someone else. The Munsters could have been based on them. Mrs Throssel was OK but there was a daughter and son in law partnership which was dubious, and a second "daughter" who worked as a painter and decorator smoked like a chimney and beat everyone at pool/bar billiards.
On the night of the general election, June 18 I think, she appeared in the TV room wearing her slippers and dressing gown which sent us all straight off to our rooms . . . . . horrible sight. That was the election with pirate radio being a high profile local issue. I was a member of the Free Radio Association and all members were asked to try and campaign against the Marine Offences Act. I duly joined the convoy of cars, all plastered in posters including mine, threading their way back and forth along the seafront.
The following day I appeared at work having driven the said adorned car into the car park. At lunch time I was hauled up in front of "Big E" to be verbalised about making a political statement. I countered by saying I was not asking anyone to vote for any particular party, it was just my point of view.' - Colin Poland
'"Hairies" from Aberdeen tended to stay with Yvonne Tullis. I didn't 'cos she was full for the 66 intake. However the reason I remember her name was the stories her guests told about her attractive young daughters and the fun and games of the place.' - David Bowie
'I was staying with Mrs Scorey, just up the road, but remember well the two attractive daughters and their attractive mother. We often called on them in order to play with the extensive 'Scalextric' layout they had.' - Trevor Tomasin
'I, for my sins, stayed with a Mrs Zettu who had a nose like a bill hook and, in the manner of Ron Moody as Fagin in "Oliver", told us she "vos the only non Jewish establishment in the street . . . . . my boy" . No lovely daughters for me just hairy arsed APO's Vin Cloney from Liverpool, Andy Basil and Pete Townsend . . . . where are they now?' - David Bowie
Aughnacloy, Northern Ireland - above Devlin's Bar and the welly boot shop
'Does anyone remember the name of the lady who ran the digs in Aughnacloy on the Irish Border? It was just down the road from our office above Devlin's Bar and the welly boot shop.
I stayed there in 1971 and it was an experience. The place was on the "outer wall" of the village, and the wind howled off the moor. The 'guest' rooms were on the top floor, but the heating, i.e. a paraffin stove, was on the middle floor below. It was damp and I was permanently cold. I had a sleeping bag inside the bed so I could stay dry and warm. You had to book hot water.
The only saving grace was that four girls who worked in the local banks stayed there during the week!' - Chris Senior
Cobham Road, Westcliff-on-Sea
'There were some other digs in the next road, Cobham Road I think. The lads there said most of their meals were accompanied by cat hair due to it sleeping on top of the stove, or in the pans on top all day. I remember we went round there on New Year's Eve to watch a rather dubious film and take a small libation. We all enjoyed the film and so apparently did 'granny' as she sat through the whole thing whilst knitting. You've no idea how funny some things appear to be when they're done in time with the clack-clack of knitting needles. Happy Days!' - Trevor Jones
Leigh-on-Sea. Essex
'I remember 'digs' in Leigh-on-Sea, where I had my own room in a family home which was very comfortable. They kept chickens which meant that there was usually more than one egg for Breakfast, however I declined Sunday Lunch one day when I was asked which of the chickens I preferred, only to have it promptly dispatched to provide said meal. Looking back on it I wonder why I was so squeamish. We had chickens at home during and after the War until the end of Rationing, and my father used to kill one regularly for the pot. I didn't worry about it while I was I child, funny that.' - Barrie James
Parrock Street, Gravesend
'I remember staying in Parrock Street Gravesend, over an Italian Restaurant. The owner had been in the Army and had met his wife while in Italy during and after the War. He returned to his home town and settled down, using his wife's expertise in the kitchen to make a living. I shared a room there with Geoff Eteson and Barry Turner. The landlord had a very attractive daughter, who used to serve in the restaurant, she certainly received many interested looks from the three of us, though I doubt if they led to anything. They certainly didn't in my case anyway. It was interesting the way we found these digs. When I arrived the Office PO, in answer to my question as to the whereabouts of reasonable accommodation, referred me to the local 'Nick', who duly gave me a couple of addresses, the first turned out to be a 'knocking shop' from which I beat a hasty retreat in some confusion, the second was the said Italian Restaurant.' - Barrie James
Pepys Road, New Cross, London
'During initial training at the WTC in April 1958 I was billeted at a house in Pepys Road, New Cross together with about half a dozen other sprog APO's. I cannot recall the landlady's name but I recall three incidents from my time spent there.
The landlady owned a particularly obnoxious budgerigar; it lived in the dining room and would take off the top of your finger if you were foolish enough to put it anywhere near the cage. This feathered monster was hated by all the lodgers but needless to say loved by the landlady. During our stay the wretched bird died - and of course the Waterguard got the blame!''
'One evening in my Pepys Road abode I decided to take a bath. Hot water was obtained via a large wall mounted Ascot gas geyser which was fired up when you turned on the hot tap. Unfortunately on this occasion there must have been a build up of gas in the body of the contraption and ignition caused a violent explosion! The heater tore itself from the wall and ended up in the bath. I went to bed unwashed together with an ear bashing from the lady of the house.'
'The landlady's son owned a Bond minicar, don't forget that in those days any car was better than no car, however this particular motor was hardly a 'bird puller'. Well, this guy, much to the envy of the lodgers, was courting a gorgeous member of the Television Toppers - a famous TV dance troupe at that time. Furthermore she was voted the prettiest girl on TV and featured on the front cover of Picture Post. This young lady was a frequent visitor to our abode and would treat the lads to demonstrations of high kicking in the lounge. The following day's lecture relating to cargo in unregistered spaces or the calculation of compromise penalties tended not to grab our attention.' - Peter A Hopkins
Queens Road, New Cross Gate, London
'In 1960, my brother and I were on the APO course in London. We stayed at a very good digs in Queens Road, New Cross Gate. In the evenings we shared the dinner table with the landlady's fifteen year old daughter and two Unattached Officers, who were working at a spirit warehouse. They regularly arrived drunk and their language at the dinner table was dreadful.
On behalf of the Department we apologised to the landlady, assuring her that this was not the normal behaviour of Customs Officers.' - Barry Moore
'The only caravan accommodation at Luton I can remember was in the car park at the back of the Red Lion in Breachwood Green. It was common for an Officer coming off nights to kick a colleague who was late for his early out of bed and get in it whilst still warm. The things we would do to maximise our subsistence allowance.' - John Barber
'I stayed at digs in Seaview Road Southend in 1966. There was no sea view! Some of the baggage training must have rubbed off on the landlord who went through our suitcases and paperwork etc. when we were at the WTC. He prided himself on having picked up a lot of knowledge about customs procedures over the years! One wag's feedback about the digs was 'food good until cooked' - Brian Russell
'I regret that over the years I have forgotten the location of the digs I was in Southend with Mike Moore and Malcolm Gray. We found the place by accident as it wasn't on the 'list'. The landlady had space for two 'students', but we convinced her that if she could find another bed she'd have three lodgers. We were fed well and after dinner she cleared the table so we could do our 'homework' then when we were finished asked permission to put the TV on!' - Ron Richardson
'The 'Digs' in Newry where I stayed when I was at the Land boundary post was in Stone Street I think. Wonderful lady but her idea of housekeeping left something to be desired.' - Len Donald
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