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New Milton
New Milton maps
Historic maps of New Milton and the local area, hand-drawn by Ordnance Survey and Samuel Lewis. View all New Milton maps
New Milton area books
Displaying 1 of 22 books about New Milton and the local area. View all books for this area
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Memories of New Milton
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memories of New Milton.
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"Uncle Tom"
My younger twin brother Roger seems to have memories of his "Uncle Tom" of which I am unaware. My "Uncle Tom" was a Hants and Dorset bus conductor/driver. After Gore Road Elementary School finished for the day and my mother to be rid of squabbling kids in her hairdressing business office, would give us three-pence each to go home on the bus, and told us to make sure "Tom" put us off the bus at our stop. I remember Roger being so assigned on one occasion by himself, and upon disembarking, ran across the road from behind the bus and was hit by a passing car - he obviously survived.
Uncle Tom
During the early Second World War years there was considerable construction along the Barton beach and the cliff top to hinder any possible designs of the dastardly twins on our rural paradise. These constructions used to be a major playground for the Secret Army, a dozen or so local kids, growing old in Barton without parental supervision or a Disneyland. As a child allowed to survive formative years without the close control of parents, and as experts in escaping the hygienic attentions of a succession of Nannies, we earned the attentions of an un-official ‘uncle’; who tended to watch out for us, and no doubt kept my father aware of our activities during their Friday night sessions at the George. Uncle Tom used to regale us with stories of the war years, kept in our minds by the regular Thursday night electricity blackouts, and the wail of the weekly air-raid siren test. He taught us to duck and cover, in case the Russians bombed us, and was there when one day the... Read more
Beach Warriors And The Secret Army
Running down from Barton Common is a small river called Becton Bunny. This occupied the local gang of unsupervised children caled the Secret Army for many summer days, building substantial dams, which eventually burst sending a rush of yellow water and mud towards unsuspecting sun worshippers on the beach. We dug caves into the cliff, and somehow avoided being buried. One day we found a large bomb-shaped object on the beach, and decided to make it do what bombs are supposed to do. We threw stones at its ‘nosecap’ from the safe distance of at least six feet, without result, and then thought that a little heat would do the trick. We scoured the beach for firewood and by teatime had built a considerable bonfire over our bomb. But matches had we none, so agreed to meet up after breakfast next day to fulfil our enterprise. As we got to the top of Becton cliff next morning, Uncle Tom was on the beach loading our bomb and bonfire onto a truck... Read more
Bicycles And A Happy Hunting Ground.
Being the offspring of parents otherwise engaged, and only partially supervised by a succession of Nannies, whose only concern was that we should be clean and respectably dressed when we got up to mischief, we were members of a local 'gang' called the Secret Army. Our aim was to be a Secret Underground Army, so that in time of need we could go bush, and defend King and Country against all-comers. We were mainly a holiday gang, and during daylight hours were subject to very little supervision, as long as Nanny knew roughly where we were going, so that the Police and Fire Brigade knew where to find us. The beach was a favourite haunt, described elsewhere, but at times we wore out our welcome, and on such occasions, we headed for other hunting grounds. One of the aims of our Army was to be familiar with the countryside, and we explored voraciously. One of our haunts was Moat Lane where the local Taxi Lady lived. (Mrs Sheppard?). We discovered an interesting Coppice, with... Read more
New Milton Memories
I remembering exploring the back streets of New Milton, Ashley, Bashley and Barton on Sea on my bike as a 10 year old. Phelps supermarket was mum's main food shopping weekly destination. Burgess News Agency was where she would buy our weekly comic. My siblings would cherish their weekly read. I had 'Topper' while my brothers and sister had 'Beano', 'Victor' and 'Tammy'. I remember the excitement of unwrapping the Comic Annuals from our Christmas stocking each year. Our Hornby trainset would often see the dining room daylight but not as much as my brother's Britain's farm set! We all at some stage went to New Milton Junior School and 2 of us went to Gore Road Secondary School (now Arnewood) before emigrating to Australia in 1970. Ballard Lake was the place to trial my eldest brother's model motor boat. The ducks were as intrigued as we were. The local Rec would often be the place to vent our football enthusiasm. My brother and I used to challenge... Read more
Station Road Early 1950's
The Town Library was located across the road from Burgess' news agent/bookstore, the source of my Tiger and Eagle weekly comics - as a young library member I plowed my way along the Biggles Air Ace library shelves, and through the Enid Blighton's Adventure series which my brothers also shared with me - these books sparked our young imaginations and no doubt were the inspiration of many of our adventures - there was a WW2 bomb shelter in front of the library, a real eye-sore - as a kid I was dared, and went inside but it stank of things better not described, and was a repository of every broken bottle in town - then the shelter was sealed up and eventually broken up and removed.
Railway Station Yard
My parent's business on Whitefield Road backed onto the sidings of the rail station. The coal wagons were shunted onto a track alongside the public pathway. The Coal Merchants had their office shacks on the entrance way to the station. Every day the coal lorries would back up to the coal wagons, and the coal gangs would shovel coal into jute sacks and fill up their lorries with the days deliveries. The shoveling and delivery was dirty work, and these men were always covered in coal dust. I spent much time watching the work from the pathway, until they got fed up being watched and waved me away so they could continue their stories.
New Milton
My parents moved to the Bournemouth area at the end of WW2, and purchased the Clock Cafe property at 18 Whitefield Road. The Hants & Dorset buses used to treat the bus stop across the road as a terminus, and frequented the cafe for tea and sandwiches between runs. My parents ran the cafe for a while before leasing it to others. In the same building was the Humber Hire business and my mother resumed her hair styling business in the upstairs rooms. Over the years, the building was developed to the pavement building line with a two storey extension. The original building doors and windows were removed and replaced with steel girders so that the old house was hardly recognizable. My parents eventually sold the building in the late 1960's, but our teenage family spirits must still haunt the place.
