The Green – 1952 53 Seven Years Old

A Memory of The Green.

I come from an RAF family that travelled across the globe until, in 1964 we ended up in Australia. Though english by birth, I am now an Australian, but I have fond memories of some parts of England where I grew up, especially The Green. I was six years old. One day, I was told we were going to Millom, which turned out to be an RAF base near the wilds of Cumbria, in the north of England, where my father was to be an instructor. We didn’t live on the base but at a village about ten miles out of town called The Green, which was very rural. We were on the edge of the Lake District, perhaps the most beautiful part of England. The neighbouring hills were Black Combe, White Combe and White Hall Knott. The house itself was stone with a tiny patch of lawn to the side, behind a stone wall that protected it from the road. To my recollection it was 100-200 metres from the centre of The Green, following the river towards the estuary, though it may have been further. It was certainly at the top of a rise because I fell off my bike at the bottom of the hill, while I was learning to ride. It was very rustic. The milk was delivered in churns by horse and cart, and we had four chickens in a run across the road. The river Duddon was not far from us and I recall jumping from granite rock to rock, over the stream. I enjoyed the exercise and the environment for the first time. The Wordsworthian beauty of nature was all around. My father, hired a car and over the next months we travelled around the Lake District to various lakes. I recall Windermere, largest lake in England; Derwentwater which, at the time I was taught to pronounce “derrent”, though that is now unfashionable, and Coniston Water (where Donald Campbell was killed trying to break the world water speed record for the umpteenth time in Bluebird). There was also the mysterious Ullswater of poetic fame; and the wildest and most spectacular of all, Wast Water, the deepest lake in England, with its glorious screed sides. While we were at The Green my brother John and I, had measles. At least, the doctor thought it was measles though there was some talk of German measles (rubella). We were put in the front room for about a week, during which my parents discovered an intercom between that room and the adjoining kitchen. Much fun was had by them and some nearby friends. School was a two room, two-teacher school at Hallthwaites, next to the church a few miles away where we went on Sundays. I have pictures of the school, taken in 1976 and 2010 while on visits from Australia. At Hallthwaites I also learnt a modicum of self-expression, conducting the music on the radio, to the amusement of my fellow pupils. In the brick walled school playground, we played games including running across from one side to the other. I remember several times somebody called “sky blue pink with purple spots”, which completely confused me.
Then, just as suddenly as we arrived, it was announced that we were leaving, this time to go to Singapore. This had a lasting effect on me because as a result my father didn't go on a flight from Millom to the Isle of Man. The RAF aircraft crashed into Snaefell on the Isle of Man and there were no survivors.

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