First summer holiday

  

When I was still a young boy in 1947 we went on a summer holiday.. It was the first for me after wartime restrictions. My father hadn’t yet suffered his crippling illness and had been working steadily. He had been able to buy a motorcycle and side car. This was a pre-war side valve Norton with a single seater sidecar. The sidecar was a later addition and the bike still had the gearing of a solo machine. There was a great deal of excited planning. We went with my Aunt Alice and Uncle Arch and their two boys George and John. At the age of 9 and 11 the were not interested in playing with a 5 year old like myself. After deliberation with literature from several holiday resorts we chose Southsea. This was the holiday resort part of Portsmouth. A degree of negotiation and decision was needed about our holiday “digs” with my father needing also somewhere to garage our motorbike. This wasn’t used at all during our stay.

My Aunt and family travelled down by train while we went by our motorbike. I was packed around with luggage in the sidecar. The side car was open but fortunately it was dry; I don’t remember being particularly cold but I was well wrapped up.. Father had got a route from Uncle Phil which consisted of a series of towns through which to pass as we travelled.  Mother riding on the pillion would shout directions to father to the next town. The road system was still rather basic and few towns had by-passes; motorways were unknown and the A roads unimproved from prewar.. As a result our journey took all day. I got a lot of praise for not complaining about being packed in tightly. We had never undertaken such a long journey before. I recall that as we approached the south coast all the road verges were crammed with  corrugated steel huts which had contained supplies for D-day and just after; Portsmouth had been one of the major supply ports to Normandy.

One of my favourite toys was a model yacht only about 10 inches long in bright red with a folding mast. The husband at our boarding house rigged the mast and sails for me doing an excellent job. Most resorts then had a pool devoted to model boats. However when I came to pack away on return, folding down the mast, I had to also disconnect the rigging. I could never afterwards get it back to the same wonderful condition.

Our visit coincided with Portsmouth “Navy Days” when naval ships in the big dockyard were open to the public. This was a great and thrilling opportunity to board the ships which had so recently been at war. I particularly recall the newly built battleship Vanguard with its massive guns ( 15 inch bore). Vanguard had been commissioned just too late to take part in the war and was being spruced up to take the then Princess Elizabeth and Prince Philip on a major Commonwealth tour.

The smaller ships required some agility to get around. Some of the access ladders were vertical. If this was the case then invariably a couple of sailors were deputed to assist. I remember mother cynically remarking they enjoyed the  duty with its opportunity to look up girls skirts,.

There were many ships whose variety and number was amazing. Not open but alongside were some midget submarines and I recall marvelling at their compactness. I don’t remember going on board a full size submarine but an aircraft carrier seemed huge with vast flight deck. The aeroplane lifts from hangar to flight deck were very large and impressive.

As well as ships there were various events. The one I recall most vividly was a Marine marching band. As a small boy I was sent to sit at the front before the adult crowd. So I duly sat at the front only to be terrified as the these enormous marines marched directly towards me. They did, of course, turn and march back but I didn’t know that; I thought I would be trampled. My father was a brass band fan and talked about the performance long afterwards.

Returning by bus from the docks was an enormous queue. We waited patiently as several buses arrived, filled, and left. Finally when we were at the head of the queue and a bus arrived folk from further back in the queue dashed for the doors. My father was incensed by this and normally the mildest of men he sprang into action, physically held back the queue jumpers and ensured an orderly boarding in turn.

I don’t recall the beach life but there is a photo from the time of a small boy in long black trunks looking shyly at the camera