Childhood in The Village

I moved to Hatfield Peverel in late 1941, after my family was bombed out in London. My father took the Duke of Wellington pub over, where we lived until 1949. Yes they were good years in the village, but at the beginning we were outcasts as we were Cockneys, but after three months it got really good. ONly my dialect was a bit different and got me into a lot of trouble at school, the local church school. During the raids, at school we had air raid shelters which were in the school playground and when the siren went we would go out there until it was over, but to me they didn't feel safe as they were above the ground and had only one way in, and a little hole at the other end where you would have to crawl out.  I made many friendss there - Janet Cleave from the bakery, Edith Brown from Peverel Lodge which was a beautiful house with a brick wall around it, opposite the Swan Hotel, but has since gone, the Smith girls from the Street Farm cafe, also gone, and Janet Weaver from New Road.
There was beautiful woods around in those days where we often played. My grandmother she lived in one of the blacksmith cottages, she moved down from London the same time for the same reason. The fire station was in front of these cottages and when they used to go to a fire all the local children followed on their push bikes. As children my brother and I used to deliver beer and spirits to the May family in Maldon Road, the old Tudor house, and their kitchen always had a lovely smell of home cooking. They also let people get water from the well in their garden when the pipes got frozen and you couldn't get water. Also we took spirits to our vicar at the vicarage all in a wheelbarrow. We also had our Girl Guides at the vicarage and many garden fetes, they were good times. Plenty of places to go bike riding, also plentyof orchards to go and pinch fruit. In the church hall in Maldon Road we would have a Christmas party where all the children got an orange. In the village hall in the street, the school used to put on plays for the chiuldren. We also had a German POW camp, and most of the men worked at the dairy off Station Road. My father had two young German boys working as gardeners, Hans and Fritz, and they were very nice boys. There was one called Herbert who worked at the bakery. A few of these German boys used to come to my father for a glass of beer, as he was not allowed to sell beer to them. They came around the back of the pub to a small room where my father gave them beer and crispts, they were very happy with him. We had many of the forces living around the village, which was good for the pub. But at night when the raids were on and we were under the kitchen table and house was shaking, that was frightening as the big bombers did fly overhead. We left the village in 1949 to go to Australia. I have been back many times, yes it has changed very much but I have fond memories of it as it was at the time. I also went to Witham Secondary School in Spinks Lane, Witham.