The White Horse Inn c1955, Compton Bassett
The White Horse Inn c1955, Compton Bassett Ref: C696004
Memories of The White Horse Inn c1955, Compton Bassett
Tales From my Father
My father grew up on Compton Bassett, his name was Reginald Hooper and he lived with his parents and brothers and sisters at No 36. I remember well the stories he told me as a child about his childhood growing up in the village, his friends, how they played in the street and roamed all over the fields, sang in the church choir and went to school in the village. It all seemed so idyllic but I suppose life was quite hard for most village people in those days. When I read 'Cider with Rosie' it all seemed so familiar, as if I had already been there. They are all gone now but the memories live on.
Re Story of Tales From my Father
I still hear all the tales of those days from my father,who spent his holidays at Number 37 with the Offer family and was sent there during the Second World War as a child, he also knew your father Reginald . As a child I spent my holidays in Compton Bassett, staying either on Barnetts Farm or the White Horse pub field in our caravan or in a tent at the back of 36 or in the orchard of 37, even in the 1970s and 1980s it was fun, there is something still special about the place now.
Compton Bassett & local memories
Read and share memories of Compton Bassett and Wiltshire inspired by Frith photos.
This And That Concerning my Short Stay in Compton Bassett
My memory of Compton Bassett is not extensive - to say the least - as I spent roughly a year in married quarters before my husband was posted to Bordon in Hants. He was with the REME and worked at Lyneham. My immediate memory is of greeness and drizzle! And being without friends - I don't think being a member of the khaki set helped! I took my son, who was a year old, into Calne some afternoons just for something to do. I recall the bus service was pretty non-existant and so it was the pushchair for him, and shanks' pony for me! Sometimes we did a recce closer to home instead, and I enjoyed looking at the pretty cottages (we had arrived directly from Germany where cottages were not something one encountered). I recall one cottage which, although not so different from the others in the road, did have a name which has remained with me all these years: 'All That.' I would seek it out whenever our... Read more
Somewhere is This Photo is A RAF Camp Where The Sgt Barraclough Family Lived
Where was the RAF camp site?
Telephonist Course
In March 1946 as an18 year old I was called up to report to RAF Padgate, and do 2 years National Service in the RAF. After a few days there, being kitted out with uniform etc, I was posted to 11 GRP Uxbridge in July 1946 and was given training to operate the 12 position switchboard which were down in the bunker, at fighter H/Q. In around August 1946 I was posted to RAF Compton Bassett for a 3 week course to be trained as a telephonist, we trained on 10+50 switchboards. The strange thing was I did my 6 weeks' basic training at RAF Yatesbury during April-May 1946 - square-bashing, firing rifles, throwing a live hand grenade, LIFE CERTAINLY WAS VERY EXCITING. After 9 months I was promoted to LAC and received £3 every fortnight on pay parade, of course most of us smoked but did not have much money for beer, we used to get our fags in the NAAFI at a reduced price. Happy times.
Memory of Compton Bassett
I was adopted with my 3 sisters by a RAF couple who was stationed in Hong Kong. Our parent came back to the UK in 1957. My father was stationed at Compton Bassett in 1960 for 2 years. Our story of the Barraclough family was printed in the Daily Sketch 1961. The title was On Wheels of Joy. I remember going to a village school 2 miles from the camp.
Lovely Friendship at RAF Compton Bassett
When I was posted to Compton Bassett in 1951 I was feeling rather low, and remained so until I formed a friendship (just friendship) with a lovely girl, a member of the WRAF known as 'Woodie' My abiding memory of Compton Bassett will always be walking down a country road to The White Horse Inn, with a beautiful girl by my side, on warm, sunny evenings in May. After sixty years, I remember everything so clearly. The Spring flowers in the cottage gardens, the Church, and the cosy interior of the inn. We had a mutual interest in poetry, and I know that she particularly admired the works of the Great War poets, especially Wilfrid Owen and Rupert Brooke. The mind has a way of blotting out the saddest times, so how we finally lost touch is far too hazy to be sure of how it happened. My course at the station was a short one, and although our paths crossed once more when we were both... Read more
Living in The Village
We moved to Compton Bassett in 1957 when I was 11 and lived there until my father died in 1986. My parents were George Edward (Ted) Jones and Lucy. First we lived in Dugdales Farm house with Mr and Mrs Monck, and then moved to what we called Hundred Acre Cottage which was specially built for us by Mr Monck. After they sold Dugdales we moved to what was then known as Alley Cottage. My father was an agricultural engineer and was self-employed. I went to the Bentley Grammar School in Calne. I used to cycle through the village and leave my bike at the post office in the care of Mrs Rogers. I then caught a bus to school. I spent many happy hours walking in the fields and up the hill with our dogs. I left in 1964 to go to Teacher's Training College in Weymouth but went home every holiday. I finally left and moved to Spain where I met and married a Spaniard but continued... Read more
Good Old Days Under Miss Dixon
I arrived in Compton from Yatesbury where I was far from happy, but what a difference under Miss Dixon, the manager at Compton. I met my husband there and left to get married in 1953. If any of the crew there at the time remember me, I would be very pleased to hear from them.
COMPTON BASSETT NAFFI
I came to Compton Bassett from Yatesbury where I had not been happy at all, but it was different at Compton Bassett, friendly staff and a fantastic manageress who really looked after us girls. I met my husband there and in 1953 we were married in North Wales. After his service in the RAF he joined GCHQ and we have travelled the world since, retiring in Cyprus in 1990 but staying on till 196 when we returned to the UK. I have the fondest of memories of Compton Bassett NAFFI and its staff. I am just wondering how many are still with us after all this time. I have visited Compton Bassett recently and found it sad to be gone. But that's the way of the world I suppose. I did the same with RAF Hemswell, it had also changed, RAF Pitrivie Castle in Scotland also. It brings home to one how the years have passed but you don't notice.
Compton Bassett
This is not really my memory but that of my father - Mr Thomas Roy Smith, now 83 years of age - ex RAF. Born in Ramsey, Huntingdonshire He was seving in the RAF at Compton Bassett during 1946 and we recently had one of those "sit and talk" moments where he mentioned that he had been at Compton Bassett. He gave me a copy of a photo he had with other serving members and I have a made a copy. I downloaded from various websites as many photos as I could find, copied them to disc and played them to him on the TV. He was really pleased that there was so much info and that there were some good reminders of pleasant time past. Whilst he cannot remember names or indeed much of what happened in 1946 he does recall the Black Horse pub (surprise, surprise). If anyone remebers my father or indeed has photos of 1946, It would be nice to show them. The photo I have shows my... Read more
Those Good Olde Dayes???
Who can forget the grim start to 1947? I was one of those arriving at RAF Padgate in March when after barely 2 weeks induction we were all sent back home and the place virtually shut down. No heating, washing in ice cold water and the country in the grip of a postwar fuelless and austerity freezeup. Hence my arrival at RAF C B in May and the subsequent mindless squarebashing months as ACH/GD lasted until August through an equally roasting summer. One of the refuges from the endless parades, marching up and down, rude awakenings at 6.30am & fatigues was the camp cinema and the NAAFI. One particular day we all dreaded was the first day on the range at RAF Melksham - my first attempts to actually fire a Lee-Enfield in the face of varied dire threats and warnings and the later sessions dismantling, firing and blindly reassembling the Sten Gun. Somehow we got past it without killing each other, or indeed the NCOs, although one luckless guy... Read more
R.A.F.Compton Bassett
I was stationed at Compton Bassett from 6/10/48 until 25/1/49.
I was training as a T.P.O. / Tape Relay Operator.
My memories of the camp are not all that good, the most vivid memory was being paraded with the rest of the camp early one morning in November and being told by the C.O. that Princess Elizabeth had given birth to a son and we were ordered to raise our hats and give three cheers for the baby prince.
Other memories are of walks up to the white horse at Cherhill, visits to Calne, Marlborough, Chippenham, and the only town around that area that had much in the form of entertainment Swindon.
I also spent a weekend in Bristol staying at the Y.M.C.A. there.
No. 3 Radio School, R.A.F. Compton Bassett. Wilts.,
At the age of 80, I still have nostalgic memories of Compton Bassett, of Calne, of the White Horse - both the historic site and the pub - and of the beautiful surrounding countryside that I often roamed, as a young man of 18, during my 9-month stay at No. 3 Radio School, R.A.F. Compton Bassett, where I too was trained as a W/OP & TP/OP (Telegraphist). And yes, who would ever forget the Station cookhouse "menu of the day" choice, which consisted, more often than not, of either bacon & egg, sausages, kidney & egg or steak and kidney pie with a good dollop of mashed potatoes and baked beans,
and for dessert a slab of fruit cake or boiled rhubarb with custard, all dished out by German POWs! Happy days, indeed.
R A F Compton Bassett. No 3 Radio School
I cannot believe that I am the first ex "Wop/TeleOp" to stumble across this site and to pen a few words of nostalgia for the old camp and the surrounding towns. Calne in particular. The jokes we made about the bacon factory, e.g. 'Same lorry collecting from the cookhouse as brought our supplies'. Nipping thru' the hole in the fence around camp to pop along to the pub for cigarettes. The camp itself and all the boys (for that is what we were, 16/17 yr olds) who contributed to the memories I have of that part of my life, during 1946/47, I found so enjoyable. The friendiness of the Calne townfolk. I last visited the Calne area 15 years ago and found that the camp had reverted to farmland. I now live in Johannesburg and will always have the fondest memories of "Wonderful Wiltshire" and "The White Horse". To all of the wonderful people of Compton Basset and environs. Be well, and proud of your inheritance.
