Childhood

A Memory of Milland.

I was born in Milland in 1942 at Great Trippetts Cottages. My father, Goody Luff, worked at the farm and had married the 'Nanny' from The Coombe. As with many farm cottages we had no running water or electricity. We relied on the well in the back garden and oil lamps. We had a black range in the kitchen and a copper in the shed. Water from the copper would be put in a tin bath in front of the fire and would be used by all (just adding a bit more hot as was needed).

Grandad (who lived next door with Granny) would rear his own pigs and they would be killed in the shed and the meat salted down for use in the winter. We did well for meat as there were always plenty of rabbits, pheasants etc. not to mention the occasional deer. Grandad's large garden was always well stocked with vegetables and fruit and Granny was well known for her homemade wine. Not that Grandad drunk any!! "Just a glass for medicinal purposes", he would say.

During the Second World War I can remember masses of soldiers in The Coombe, all waiting to be shipped abroad. They would creep in to see us and we would supply eggs, bread, meat etc, as they were living on 'bully beef' and hard biscuits.

I also recall having Italians working on the farm. They were called DPs (or displaced persons). My uncle (Reg Luff from Midhurst) who was a local contractor, would bring them every morning in his lorry.

Dad was also in the Home Guard so as well as running the farm would have to go and guard the coast at night. From the tales he would tell I think "Dad's Army" is not as far fetched as people might think. He would tell the story of guarding Middleton-on-Sea and the fact that they had several wooden boxes of ammunition. There was one drawback! The lids were screwed down and no one had a screwdriver just in case they used the ammunition to go duck shooting!

Dad was one of eight children. The girls all went 'into service' - cleaning, cooking etc. in fairly local big houses. The boys, with the exception of Eddy, were all involved in agriculture in one way or another. Eddy (or Son) as he was locally known was called up and had to go to war. He was taken prisoner and I can vividly remember this gaunt, white, boney man coming round the corner and saying hello to me. I didn't know who he was and even his friends had difficulty in recognising him.

I can also recall an plane coming down in 'The Coombe'. This was guarded but my mother and I used to take the guards food and cigarettes.

In 1950 (aged 8) I was taken seriously ill with tetanus (which apparently was caused by a blackberry scratch behind the knee). I was taken to the Infectious Diseases Hospital in Portsmouth where I was to spend three months. I had been in the hospital six weeks when I caught polio. I was taken across the road to St Mary's and put in a plaster cast. I was so frightened because no one would tell me what was happening to me. I started physiotherapy there which was to continue for three years. I was discharged just in time for Christmas wearing an iron which was not allowed to come off even at night. Living in a house with no heat in the bedrooms, icicles on the inside of the windows this was not very comfortable as no matter which way you laid the covers were off your body letting all the cold into the bed. I have to say I got spoilt with extra presents that Christmas and when I went into Petersfield on the bus the local stallholders left their stalls to come over and give me a hug. Special friends such as Mick Booker would come and visit me and we would spend time going round the farm. I liked him because he always looked out for me.

Life was never dull as there was always something to do even though I was now unable to help like a used to. Dad would take me on the tractor or in the Willie Jeep we had and Mum had great patience when I lost my balance and fell over in the cow muck yet again!

In those days there were always relatives in the village and it was a close knit community. My mother (who was born in Battersea) always said she was a newcomer. In fact she said this until she died in 2005. I, on the other hand, was born there so I was accepted from the start.

You might wonder what happemned to Mick. Well, he moved away at 15. Some 50 years later he contacted me and we met up. We now live together and often talk about the 'good old days.