Charlton Park Camp

A Memory of Malmesbury.

I was one of a family of Seven children(two girls and five boys) born to Louise and George Tawn.
We first lived at Pinkney park where my father was employed as a farm bailif. Due to his affair with the farmers wife we were thrown out and became homeless.
We then lived at Charlton Park Camp on an estate belonging to Lord Suffolk from when I was 5 until new council houses were built in Malmesbury when I was about 11.
Charlton park camp was in the grounds of Charlton house and had ( as far as I know) been used as an internment camp for Italian and Polish people during the last war. It was overseen by The American Air Force at that time.
We lived in huts, Nilsson huts but with arched not rounded roofs. It was in fact a kids paradise as it was surrounded by woods and most of the pathways were graduated with very few steps.
I'm sure our parents weren't happy there but we kids were!
It was a real community with a little shop run by a Mr Fry. The woods were fantastic and beautiful when the bluebells, came out. Our hut had a long passage and we kids would tie rags on our feet to slide up and down to polish the floor. We had three bedrooms, a large bathroom, gallery kitchen and a lounge with an aga type stove.
The huts were incredibly cold in the winter and mum would pile all our coats on the bed before we slept. In the winter we woke to frost on the inside of the windows!
I remember when we found lead shot by the bucket load buried in a copse in the middle of the Camp. It was at a time when lead was worth money so a great deal of the inhabitants set to to dig them up and fill jam jars which were taken off to Malmesbury to be sold as scrap ,some 3 or 4 miles away.
Other memories include finding a grave in the woods dedicated to a dog. Also we found an American helmet and coins.
Each family had a piece of ground and my father grew vegetables and we also had a flower garden.
In 1986 my father died of CGT ( mad cows desease) possibly a connection to his work with cows on the farm? Who knows!
On Saturdays we would walk into Malmesbury to go to the pictures and spend our 6 pence pocket money. It was alway a competition to see who could get the most for their money. Sherbet dabs, bubble gum, liquorice sticks, rhubarb lumps etc. we would walk back to the camp, sometimes in the dark (no street lights in those days.) never a thought for our safety. There were bats whirling around above us.

I also remember when the rabbits got miximatosis( spelling?.) loads of rabbits with eyes bulging, staggering about the road. I have not been able to eat Rabbit since.
Every Sunday night we were all washed and scrubbed up ready for bed but allowed to stay up to sit round the radio to listen to " journey into Space" a real treat!
I remember Sunday's in front of the fire on the rag rug listening to "forces network or " journey round the horn" ( think that's what it was called!)
Eventually we rode our bikes ( i had my youngest brother in a seat on the back of my bike) into Charlton to the School 3 or 4 miles away which in those days was run by Mrs Noble. I thought of the school as being large but memory plays tricks as having been back to visit ( now a private house) I was amazed at how small it is!
As small children we had an afternoon nap and I have always remembered and loved being lulled to sleep by the beautiful voice of Kathleen Ferrier singing " blow the winds southerly"
When the coronation took place we all trooped into Charlton, littlies in the pram, invited to watch the ceremony on the rare black and white T.V , at the vicarage. Afterwards there were great celebrations for all at the farm in the village.
Mum won a box of groceries in the raffle and in the dark, I dragged, pushed and carried it all the way back to the camp!
We were poor but I never remember being hungry. But the smell of Spam, cornflakes, stork margarine is more than I can bear these days! I do though remember coming home on a cold frosty day to marrow stuffed with sausage meat. A fantastic smell. If we were ill, we got " goody" , white bread and sugar soaked in hot milk ( how bad for you is that?)
We at the the camp were all invited to join the celebration for the son Lords suffolks 18th birthday celebration and were treated to food and I think ( can't remember) the parents had drinks. There was a fireworks display, a very exciting night for all of us!
Sad to see that the " big house" as we called it is now 6 luxury flats. Although I presume these will keep it going.
I had a Sunday dress, (always hated them) red dress with white dots and white collar with red dots.
We eventually move to Parklands to a brand new council estate. All of the inhabitants of Charlton Park Camp went to the new estate which when I think of it now is an unusual happening.
I have been back to the camp to relive so many memories and of course it has been turned back to wood ( replanted) and is private property. The gates are still there and the lodge at the far end. I was standing at the entrance feling sad when a worker? Came up to say this is private property. When I explained the history he took me in to look and would you believe the base of our hut was still there! It sure brought a tear to my eyes.
My parents did not have a happy marriage and eventually split, my mother remarrying and moving to London in a council house exchange, near would you believe, Charlton. Her marriage to John Hynam was a happy one and they lived at Charlton until his death in 2003.
I myself lived with a friend in Chippenham for a couple of years before moving to London where I had a good career in a film laboratory as a negative cutter, cutting 35 mm. feature films and then managing transmission libraries for television companies until my early retirement in 2003. I always remember, just after moving to London ( typical of country life) getting a letter from a so called friend accusing me of only going away as I was pregnant! I am divorced and Never did have children!!
After my stepfathers death in 2003, my mother and I moved to southern Spain where she had a happy few years before she died at 80 in 2008.
Two of my brothers have also died but my sister lives near Hastings, another brother lives in Charlton one near Rochester , and another still lives in Wiltshire.
These memories are somewhat woolly ( I am 70 this year) but it has always struck me as odd that the many stories of Chalton park Camp don't appear to have been documented. It's as though it was a shameful memory when in fact for our family it was a godsend and an ideal place of safety for young children.
Would love to hear from others who lived there.