Ivybridge, Old Church and Village 1890

The Jarretts of Ermington

My mother's maiden name was Jarrett, her father was Fred Jarrett who along with his brother Jim ran a small building company. I lived in Ermington from 1957-1974 and was related, or so it seemed, to almost everyone within a 5 mile radius. There was a Daniels, Peter, I think who ran the First and Last. It was where I had my first half of mild at 15 years of age!
I was very close to my grandfather (Fred) and spent many happy hours in his workshop with its smells of seasoned wood, linseed oil and saw dust, looking at the massive oak tree at the bottom of Town Hill. It is still there today and whenever I return to Ermington it is my link with the past. It is a constant, it is no larger or smaller than I remember, just the same old tree reminding me of happy times.

Jarrett family of Ermington

In 1907 my Great-uncle, Arthur Jarrett, married Elizabeth Daniels in Ermington church. Elizabeth was the daugher of Frederick Daniels, who was then the landlord of the 'First and Last' Inn in Ermington.

Arthur Jarrett was a groom for Lord Mildmay at Flete House. He also served in the cavalry, possibly the King's Dragoon Guards.

I believe Arthur and Elizabeth lived in, or near, Ermington all their married lives. In 1947 their address was 3 Park Hill Terrace, Ermington.

They had at least six children, three boys and three girls, born between 1907 and 1919. Does anyone remember this family?

Thanks for great website. Sue

War Years

Born in 1938 in Modbury, I can remember the latter years of World War II.

I remember vividly the nights during the months of the heavy blitz on Plymouth, with the beams from searchlights that were based just outside the town criss-crossing the sky as German bomber formations droned overhead.

The American forces had an army camp in a field across from Modbury School and as a youngster I used to wander through the camp and GIs would give us sweets or chewing gum. The roads were lined with trucks and tanks preparing for the build-up to the Normandy invasion and the villagers used to volunteer for rehearsals by lying in the streets as casualties to be carried off to first aid stations.

In the evenings, some of the GIs would sneak into town and come to our home. My sister Peggy would sometimes play the piano for them and they would bring canvas bags of goodies for me and my sister. At Christmas time the children in the village were scooped into US army trucks and taken off to a camp for a Christmas party. We all had to bring our own mugs!

My mother would occasionally take me to Bigbury-on-Sea and I remember clearly one day the lines of American GIs wading out to landing craft with their rifles held above the heads as they practised embarkation. I remember the soldiers marching out of Modbury in single file on each side of the road towards the coast and the tanks traversing the sharp bend into New Road. One of the tanks hit and damaged the wall of the Red Devon Inn.

I remember seeing open army trucks carrying prisoners of war with a jeep escort front and back covering the prisoners who were blindfolded and had their hands tied behind their backs. Toward the end of the war some prisoners would walk into the town and sell toys they had made.

On VE Day there was a big bonfire on the Green opposite the school with people singing and dancing in front of it.

I think it was once a week when we would have a cinema show in the upstairs function room of the Red Devon Inn. We all sat on wooden benches and waited expectantly as reels were changed for the next part of the film.

I will never forget those early years in Modbury.

Roger Stevens (son of Sydney and Ethel Stevens).

Navy transit camp Lyneham

Nights at the local inn. Hikes to Yealm River. Company of land girls at nearby camp. Newton Ferrers.

Found memories of early days at Yealmpton

Now living in Australia and having revisited Yealmpton in recent times, the changes are amazing. Where there used to be fields in which I played with mates, sadly houses now stand. The old bridge, church, Mother Hubbard's Cottage and pubs are still much as I remember them, but the old charm seems to be missing. In 'my days' I could name just about everyone living in the village, now - from what I'm told - that isn't so! My memories go back to during the blitz when Plymouth was being bombed and I was just 4 or 5 years of age; the next day picking up silver streamers apparently dropped by the bombers to deflect radar, visits to a devastated Plymouth and 'tin pan alley' - a row of corrogated iron sheds selling whatever was available. I remember the American army camp at Brixton, picking cockles from the mud at Undercliff, Saturday evening film shows in what was the then Womens Institute near the bridge, fetes, and - when older - dances behind The Rose and Crown and, of course, one of my first girlfriends, Gillian Lavers of Holberton. I'd love to have an email (loganhypno@optusnet.com.au)from anyone who remembers me so we could talk of old times.