The Police Station

A Memory of Aldringham.

My earliest memories are of Aldringham. I was born in the Police Station on Mill Hill in 1937, the youngest of three children. My father was the local policeman, P.C. James McGuire. I often wonder now how my mother managed, with three children under five. There was no water electricity, gas or sewage. Water had to be carried from a well 100 yards down the road. When my father had the audacity to request that water could be laid on, he was simply told to"buy more buckets". Lighting was by an Aladdin lamp or candles, and the lavatory was an "earth closet" in the shed.
Of course, the lack of lights was no great handicap when the war started and the blackout was imposed.
The bath was a weekly event in a tin tub in front of the fire--burning hot on one side and freezing on the other.
Cooking was done on a primus, or the black kitchen range.
My father had come from a city life in Birmingham, but very happily took to country life, managing a large garden,growing lots of vegetables and keeping chickens.
My brothers and I went to the village school--taking our gas masks with us of course. I think Miss Wolf was my first teacher, and my earliest writing efforts were on a slate.
My father was a very conscientious policeman, and had many sad and demanding tasks during the war. When we left Aldringham in 1943, a collection was made for him. He was not allowed to accept this, so instead he was presented with a beautiful hand painted testimonial "in recognition of his efficient and courteous duties in peace and in war"

Maureen Manson (McGuire)