Memories Of A 7 Year Old To A 16 Year Old 1937 To 1946

A Memory of Deanston.

We arrived from Sorbie on a cold and wet November afternoon in 1937. The house was empty as our furniture had not yet arrived. However within the hour the lorry (truck) that contained our belongings arrived from Sorbie with my brother as well, who had gone along as a helper. My mother was horrified at the condition of the house and was near to tears, but the truck was unloaded, furniture and belongings were placed and fires were lit. We slept rough that night. The following day my father went to see the Manager of the Mill with a list of repairs that were in need of immediate attention and action was promised. True to his word, the following day, workmen descended on the house and were in and out, leaving the outside doors open to the bitterly cold air - plumber, carpenter, painter and others. Finally all was completed and we could settle down.
I must digress for a moment. Deanston was a company village owned by James Findley and Co, who had extensive cotton and tea plantations in Africa and India. Findley provided housing at a nominal rent, for the workers in the Mill. The Mill produced sheets, towels and other cotton goods for retail.
The power for the machinery in the Mill was provided by two huge water wheels, the 2nd largest in the then British Empire. The wheelhouse was adjacent to the Schoolhouse and during working hours they were turning and we could feel the vibration in our house. The pictures on the walls had to be straightened on an almost weekly basis!
My brother left us soon after we arrived to return to RAF Halton where he was a Boy Apprentice aircraft mechanic. My sister was at school in Edinburgh, so I was an only child. I was sent to school in Callander about eight miles away and had to travel to and from there by bus. I was not very happy there as I was asthmatic and had numerous attacks and consequent absences. I must mention here, Dr Gilbert McBride. When the asthma attacks occurred, they were pretty severe and I recall my father getting up in the middle of the night, walking along to the public phone box, which was situated in the middle of the village, to ask Dr McBride to visit us. He would normally show up within 30 minutes and give me an injection. My mother would then make him a cup of tea while he waited until my breathing was normal and I fell asleep. He was one of the old school sort of doctors and I will never forget his kindness.
War broke out in 1939 and my father was instrumental in forming a local platoon of the Local Defence Volunteers,the LDV, later to be known as The Home Guard. This platoon was composed of men who had fought in WW1. Later one of the local Landowners, took over command and my father resigned. During wartime we had different regiments stationed in the grounds of a boys school that had closed down. We used to run errands for the soldiers and would be given a few pennies as a tip.
I remember one night during the Blitz when Glasgow and Clydebank were being attacked by German bombers - one of many nights. My father and I were standing in the front of the Schoolhouse just after midnight and we could see the glow in the sky from the fires in Glasgow. Suddenly we heard an aircraft approaching which we knew was a German, by the motor rhythm. As he passed overhead he threw out some of the contents of the aircraft in order to lighten it and give him more speed to evade our nightfighter Spitfire aircraft. The stuff that he jettisoned landed in a nearby woodland and we reported this to the troops in our neighbourhood. The plane was shot down, we heard later.
During the war, my father put on several musical plays in the village hall in order to raise funds for projects such as "Help buy a Bomber" or "Help buy a Battleship". The plays were a great success and my father discovered some really good voices amongst the men and women of Deanston. The teachers and my mother helped with the costumes and the Mill Carpenter and Painter made the scenery. The people in the village had never experienced this sort of thing and they gave 100% of their support. The end of the War finally came and life returned to normal. A number of the younger men and one or two of the younger women had enlisted and they returned and started back in the Mill! One of the men was, I believe, a Commando and he was awarded the Military Medal for Gallantry but he never spoke of his experiences.
During the war, I had joined the Boy Scouts which were run, initially, by Colonel Dundas, a local landowner and a WW1 veteran. We used to collect newspapers and metal as our contribution,as Scouts, to the War effort. It was an exciting time for a child in a rural area as we had no exposure to bombing or any danger and we had no conception of the horrors of War.
In 1946, my father applied for the Position of Headmaster of Blair Drummond School and was successful. So we left Deanston for a very rural community, and shortly thereafter I went into the Regular Army for a period of five years At the end of my service I returned to Perthshire and my retired parents who now lived near Port of Menteith.
Not too long passed before I emigrated to Canada.