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Mountfield memories

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GYPSUM MINES

I was born in Netherfield and worked at the Gypsum Mines, as did my father. When I was eighteen I joined up and served for the duration, when I came home I eventualy went back to the mines. My father was killed in an accident at the min es, on the surface while I was under ground, around 1950. I was married to a Mountfield girl in 1949and lived at the Banks Cottages. I played football for Mountfield, the football field at that time was just past Johns Cross on the left on the way to Robertsbridge. I also played for Battle Rangers prior to emigrating to Canada in 1953. I now live in Wasaga Beach, Ontario. I am retired since 1988. I born in Netherfield Jan 1923.

Memories of East Sussex

Going to School

I remember walking to school (the old school) through the woods at the back of the church 1958ish,we then moved to the 'new' school at Darvel Down, I myself lived at 49 Darvel Down up until about 1963 when we moved to Crowhurst. I also remember making camps on the 'waste' and playing down in the 'gorse', if by any chance anybody remembers me you can conact me via e-mail: goatbasher@ymail.com

A Forgotten Piece of Netherfield History

On 4th October, 1940, a Hienkel HE 111 h-2 bomber crashed nr the Mountfield Gypsum mines. Only one crew member survived, his parachute was caught in a tree. He was rescued unhurt.

I was only five years old and still remember the event vividly.

Due to the threat of Invasion, my Mum and I went to live with my Gran and Grandad -Charles and Sara Crouch on Netherfield Hill.

Late at night, we heard the bomber crash over by the Gypsum mines, the plance came down close to the miners path that leads from the "shooting box" nr Netherfield Church close to the mines, only 700 metres, as the crow flies, from the church.

We got up very early next day so we could look at the crash. there was the parachute still hanging from the tree. Gypsum mine workers, including my Uncles, were stripping what useful items they could from the wreck. They thought it... Read more

Visits to my Uncle at Robertsbridge

As a small child I would travel down by train with my nan and stay at my Uncle George Bowen who lived in Langham Road,
Most important thing before boarding the train in London was to get in the right section for Robertsbridge, the platform was too short for the train - get in the wrong place and you would be outside the actual station.
His sister Ethel got on the wrong section on one occasion and found no platform so tried to get out and ended up falling out onto the railway line - she was always doing silly things like that.
We would walk along from the station and along a stony road, soon knew if my shoes were a bit thin by the pain of the stones through them.
My uncle lived next door to his neice and strange as it would seem the lady on the other side of him had the same surname though no relative.
Nan and I would... Read more

Christmas in The Snow

My maternal grandparents owned "Old Timbers", the 15th century cottages in the High Street (numbers 55-59, I think) from the early 1950s to around 1970 or 1971.  They actually lived in one of the cottages from 1960 to around 1966 or 1967.  My family spent many happy summer holidays with my grandparents during the mid 1960s, but my favourite memory was the Christmas of 1964 when we travelled by train to spend that holiday with them.

It started to snow as we journeyed and I remember the train journey was long drawn-out.  We had to change several times - I particularly remember sitting in the waiting room at Tunbridge Wells - in order to get there in the evening.  It was dark when we finally arrived and the snow was on the ground.  It was wonderful to get to the cottage with a fire blazing in the hearth.  My sister and I slept in a small bedroom at the top of the cottage which you had to reach by... Read more

Happy Days

My dad Fred Brown, estate carpenter at Mountfield, was a good singer and actor and was a member of Robertsbridge amateur theatre group, and I remember going to shows at the hall several times, only one I remember, 'Changing of the Guard'. I remember him playing the piano at home and singing words I remember went something like 'Willo Willo Waley, will you marry me' and as kids didn't go much on that. Mum (Doris) worked at the Grey and Nickols (?) factory during the war, making table tennis tables. As teenagers we went to the dances at the hall on Saturday nights, walking back to Mountfield in the early morning absolutely shattered. In 1947 when I was in the RAF it took ages to get home with phone wires, branches broken off the trees to negotiate and freezing cold. My RAF greatcoat stood up in the bakehouse where Mum had put it to thaw out for several days for about the first 20 weeks in the RAF, I must... Read more

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