Uncle Tom

A Memory of New Milton.

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 largest flying boat in the world flew along the coast at low height across Christchurch Bay having taken off noisily over Hurst Castle.

He told us about Hermann targeting Christchurch Airfield on a bombing raid during the war, and thinking Station Road in New Milton was a runway, demolished Adlards Yard on Ashley Road and a few other buildings with a ‘shipload’ of bombs. He showed us the Station Road swimming pool, a Standing Water Supply Tank on the corner of Elm Avenue where as a part time fireman, he and the local brigade once set up a demonstration to put out a car fire in the Waverly Cinema Car Park. The force of the fire hose pushed that old Austin 7 into the hedge and nearly caused a real fire!.

Tom was also part of the Barrage Balloon platoon that used to practice a launch in the cliff top car park on a Sunday morning, for a long time after the war. Tom was the winch operator, with a somewhat unreliable bus engine, causing all sorts of fun if the wind got up before the balloon was tethered to the ground. His TA Unit also had a large 36” searchlight on a truck, and on Coronation night they set it up on the cliff top and illuminated the cliffs on the Isle of Wight and Hengistbury Head. It was demonstrated that a sheet of paper would catch fire if held in the light beam.

I mis-remember one of his stories that the Hitler and Herman twins were training Sea Lions during the war to attack the beach at Barton. He pointed out an off-shore Steel Tower which he said was a Flak platform. In the 50’s it became a rusty Diving platform, and it was a right of passage to swim out, climb and to dive off it.

The beach was lined with steel and timber groins, that one had to avoid when swimming in the ebb tide as the undertow could smash the unwary for a barnacle feast. The beach had remnants of barbed wire and its supporting steel snakes, old scaffold tubes and scaffolding horseshoes, for the unwary to step on, and of course those large globs of tar, that required the application of Mr Aladdin by paintbrush to remove from feet, legs, arms and hands at the beach wardens hut.

My father bought a disposal aircraft life raft as a beach toy, a floating blancmange, to amuse us during those long summers, until one day fully loaded with local offspring it broke loose from a rotten rope and we proceeded to sea on the under-tow, having great fun and on our way to France, to the consternation of various adults and the beach wardens. A row boat had to be franticly launched to catch us and tow us back to the beach at Taddiford Gap.

I remember Uncle Tom taking that raft away on a wheelbarrow with comments of it being a most suitable means of getting rid of blankety-blank kids who had a death wish; and we were left to walk back to Barton, if possible without getting into furthur trouble and before any 'responsible' adult caught up with us.

I am not sure what Uncle Tom’s employment was, but maybe he worked for the Council. He pollarded the trees in Barton Court Avenue, was a fireman, was a Terrier on occasions, and was often on the beach clearing up storm wrack, or there to calm us down when we were having just too much fun.
He used to build the November bon-fire in the Recreation Ground, and dressed in his Blue and Silver Uniform, usually placed a wreath at the memorial the following Sunday.

Uncle Tom was also the Warden of Long Meadow, where we sometimes camped out by the Sea Scout hut. He showed us frog spawn, in the stream, and watched over us as we caught tadpoles and baby frogs. He cut cycle tracks through the Spinney behind the Scout Hut, so we could cycle-cross.

The post war beach was a potentially dangerous playground. Christchurch Bay was an assembly area for D-Day barges, and several were sunk by weather before they headed for Normandy. The Secret Army used to race for the beach after any storm as interesting munitions and stores were often washed ashore. Of prime interest to us were the canvas bags with a red band, that contained sticks of cordite. Many a Dinky toy suffered demolition in war games with this spoil, garnered before the council arrived with their equipment to remove temptation from the deserving youth.

The Secret Army survived with only a few burnt fingers. We were bullet proof!

There was a shipwreck under Hordle Cliff. A small schooner type I think, washed up and stranded on the beach. It became a challenge to get on board and to look around. Everything was a mess, and nothing worth salvaging before the Wardens turned up and chased us off.

Who exactly was Uncle Tom?

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