My Fenny Stratford Childhood

A Memory of Fenny Stratford.

Having recently by chance spoken with someone who knew Fenny Stratford I was prompted to start looking on the internet and came across this site and for what it’s worth decided to record my memories.

I was born in Aylesbury in 1936 where my father George Hart worked for the well-known printers Hazel Watson and Viney. When war broke out in 1939 my father joined the R.A.F. and my mother and I moved in with her sister Marjorie (nee Chew) and husband Bill Underwood who were licensees of the White Hart Inn in Simpson Road, Fenny Stratford and my cousin Max who was 15 months younger than me.

My uncle ran the local taxi service and used to pick up children from Bow Brickhill and other outlying areas to take them to Bletchley Road school. The garden was at the side of the pub and overlooked the canal where there was a constant stream of barges (longboats). These barges had very colourful signs along the sides and I remember that a lot of them had the Ovaltine which I assume was their cargo. Across the other side of the canal were fields and when the grown-ups were busy in the pub Max and I used to cross the bridge to the field occupied by the American Army camp standing outside the cookhouse patiently waiting to be treated to an American doughnut.

Further up the road at 56 Simpson Road (although I think they were re-numbered and it used to be 104) lived my Mother’s sister Eva with her husband Bill Kenny and my cousin Erica. This was a row of 6 cottages occupied by families Foster/Tomlins/Tofield/Tarbox and another Kenny. Each property had their own outside loo and two plots where the vegetables were grown. When I smell candle wax it takes me back to those days when candles were lit in the loos in winter to stop them from freezing up. At the front of the properties was a wrought iron fence but soon after the war started these were removed as all this material was needed to make our aircraft.

The garden area at the rear covered the whole of the width of the terrace and lead down to the bottom fence which bordered the canal. Walking through the gate was the towpath which after a few yards came to the Fenny Lock and the Red Lion Pub. On the opposite side of the canal stood the lock keepers cottage occupied by Mr and Mrs Johnson and their son Roy who was a little older than me.

At the end of the terrace was a larger detached house occupied by the Ward family. I spent some time living with my Aunt Eva and when the air raid siren sounded in the middle of the night we used to hurry down to the Ward’s house as they had an underground shelter. As kids, not realising the significance of it all, we used to be quite excited at playing in the shelter with the neighbouring children.

Simpson Road was dominated by Rowlands sawmills and several woodyards. Us kids used to play amongst these huge tree trunks in the woodyard playing hide and seek and making dens in the deep. When I think of it today it makes me shudder at what could have happened had the logs shifted – no health and safety rules then!

Fenny Stratford had it’s own railway station on the Bedford line and this was an easy way to get to Bletchley Station which was, and still is, main line junction. When we waited at the level crossing for the trains to come through they were often full of American soldiers. We used to shout “Got any gum chum”. The soldiers used to oblige and when the crossing gates were opened us kids used to scrabble on the train lines to pick up the fruity-flavoured gum which was new to us. The prize if you were lucky was a lovely chocolate bar with an orange centre – I can see and taste it as I write!

Our other crossing to negotiate was the Watling Street (A5) which even then was a busy road, as roads went at that time, which we had to cross when we went to school in Bletchley. There were no buses in those days so we had to walk everywhere and when we got older then we used our bikes. Our walk to Bletchley Road school was I guess about a good 2 miles. During the war we had to carry our gas masks with us everywhere. They were in a metal tubular container with a string handle and they used to hook on the back of our chairs in school. These were ugly and frightening looking and smelt strongly of rubber and as children we were allocated a Mickey Mouse design. Luckily there was no occasion when we had to wear them.

The end of the war came and my Dad came home from India. Mum and I hadn’t seen him for three years. Dad, Mum and I moved in with my Grandmother Emily Chew at No. 21 Aylesbury Street. This was a row of terraced cottages between Denmark Street and Manor Road. My Father was offered a post with Bletchley Printers and used to work on the Bletchley Gazette. Previously, immediately after being demobbed, he worked for the Harris Wardman Printing Corporation which was a converted Nissen Hut in Oliver Road, Bletchley and owned by local Solicitor Mr E.T.Ray who lived in Water Eaton Road.

My grandmother had 4 boys and 4 girls and my Mother Ivy was the youngest girl. The youngest boy was my Uncle Geoff. He worked for the Sketchley Drycleaners in Bletchley Road and used to ride a Sketchley bike with a huge brown container on the front of his bike to put the deliveries in. Sadly he was taken prisoner by the Japanese at Singapore. He has no known grave but his name is on the Singapore Memorial – which I visited a few years ago.

I attended the Spurgeon Memorial Baptist Chapel which was opposite my Grandmother’s house. I joined the Junior Choir and the Girls Life Brigade. Sometimes I attended Chapel in the morning and again in the afternoon. There was no way to sneak off somewhere with Granny watching my progress out of her bay window! Next door to No. 21 lived Mr and Mrs Whitlock and their daughter Joan. Joan was a G L B Officer at the chapel. Next to the Chapel was Mr Golding’s sweet shop. He made his own ice cream – which was something special. When sweets first came off ration we used to queue outside the shops that had had a delivery. We had no idea what was on offer as there was limited choice in the early days. If I queued at Mr Golding’s he would save some for my Granny.
Wolverton Science & Art Institute for which I used the train with others from villages around the area. I had a couple of holiday jobs in Aylesbury Street – with Vigor’s the Chemist and Fairey’s Grocery Shop. One day on going to the shed to get my bike I found it wasn’t there then I remembered that I had been down to Faireys the day before to collect something for my Gran so off I go to find my bike propped up against the window just where I had left it – no locks needed on bikes in those days!

My first job upon leaving school was with Ernest Marchant and Son, Solicitors in Bletchley Road. This was opposite what was then the main post office. I was the junior and “general dogsbody”. My main job was dealing with the telephone and the post. In those days there were no photocopiers and if a copy document was required it was my job to type it out. The senior partner was Mr Ernest Marchant who lived in the Woburn area. On some Monday mornings I was given a “parcel” to take over to the Post Office. This comprised a small sack with a luggage label attached to the addressee. I dreaded holding these “parcels” as they were obviously the result of a shoot which had taken place over the weekend. I used to hastily push these wobbly items over the counter to be reluctantly received by the girls the other side.

Whilst I was working there the Queen visited and passed by the office so I am assuming that is why Bletchley Road was changed to Queensway.

In 1949 my Father was offered a post with Home Counties Newspapers in Luton. The Underwoods gave up their licence at the White Hart and moved in to No. 21 with Granny and we left the area.

I have lived in Norfolk for the past 50 years. I have visited Bletchley on several occasions but not for many years now. To me Milton Keynes was a little village with a thatched pub called the Swan.


Dawn Cousins (nee Hart
December 2023

---

---