Charlton, Bill

From Bellingham Heritage Centre
Jump to navigation Jump to search

(Article provided Feb 2024 via Clive Dalton

Introduction

I was born in July 1927 and my father, Robert Lowther Charlton ( known as Bob) and mother Lilian ( known as Lily) named me Anthony William Charlton (to be known as Bill). I had a brother Cliff and a sister Joan. The family lived at The Croft on the outskirts of the Bellingham village on the road to Wark and Hexham.

I went to the Church of England Reed’s School in Bellingham where the school teachers were Miss Turnbull in the infants, Jean Milburn in the Juniors, and Mr. Greener in the seniors, later to be followed by Joe Lumley.

Working at age 14

I reached the magic leaving age of 14 in the middle of the war in 1941 and started working as an apprentice joiner to Bob & Jim Milburn in Bellingham. Rather than finish my time I left, planning to be called up for military service, as I was keen to join the Navy but was too young.

I got a job cutting timber in 1943 around the Bellingham Show field and on Hesleyside Estate with a contractor Jimmy Dixon from Wolsingham. My boss was Alexander Grigor from Aberdeen and after finishing around Bellingham we moved out to Highgreen, living in a van which was a converted old bus.

We cut the timber at a place called Gimmerston - all Scotts Pine and Norway Spruce. Then off we went to a place called Etherley near Bishop Auckland, and after a few weeks there we were moved to Fir Tree near Crook in Country Durham.

Then on to South Moor, near Stanley, with a temporary move to Helmsley in Yorkshire to cut out some dangerous Beech trees in Duncombe Park. One had blown down and killed a Canadian soldier as they were billeted in Nissin huts in the Park.

German prisoners

We were in Lodgings in Sproxton, a small village nearby, and after a couple weeks we returned to South Moor and had quite a few acres of trees to deal with, so my boss engaged six German Prisoners from a nearby camp to help with the task.

They were all good workers and caused no trouble. They used to walk about half a mile each way to come to work, and return to catch the prison bus back to camp in the afternoon. That’s where I had my 18th birthday, and the prisoners gave me a big bunch of Foxgloves which they picked coming through the plantation to work that morning! They were all good hands at using an axe to dress the trees out after they had been felled and must have preferred that to being in the front line.

The Royal Navy calls

A couple of weeks later in 1945 I achieved my ambition and was called up for the Royal Navy where I trained to be a Air Mechanic with the Fleet Air Arm. I was posted to a squadron of Sea Fires and Sea Hurricanes to be sent out to Trincomalee in Ceylon. After having embarkation leave, on our return to Lee on Solent, we were told it had all been cancelled, so there we stayed until our demob when I walked away in a brand new ‘utility’ suit and hat.

Back to trees

Returning home I managed to get work cutting timber again with H. D. Ward of Wolsingham who happened to be working at Lee Hall near Wark in the North Tyne. But when the job finished I started on the Forestry Commission and spent a few years with the roving team from Bellingham working at Pundershaw, Chirdon, Highfield, Byrness, and out as far as Edges Green, up the Military Road, which was the far out post of the Wark Forest.

During the years with the Commission I married in 1951 to Mary Patricia (nee Haldane) and we setup house at Brookside Place in Bellingham for a while before moving to a council house in Westlands. We stayed there for a few years before moving to our own house at No 8, The Croft.

I was sick of trees so changed my job again driving for Hugh Thompson, Haulage Contractors in Bellingham where I stayed until we all emigrated to Australia in 1965.

Crashed Mustang on Hareshaw

During the war years we kids used to go out to view the crashed planes and collect souvenirs if we could. We'd push bike out to Hareshaw Head late in the afternoon then walk over the moors to get a glimpse of a plane which was about a mile from the road and over some quite boggy ground.

We came across the aircraft only the tail was visible above ground as it had gone into a very boggy part of the moor and we were told it was a Mustang. Returning to our bikes after a bit of a hike over the moors, it was good ride home again as it was all downhill to the Village.

Crashed Wellington on Dunterley fell The next aircraft we visited was a Wellington bomber which had come down over on the Mesling. So off we went on our bikes over Dunterley fell to the quarry, where we left our bikes and started hiking westward and after 2 or 3 miles we came across the wrecked plane down by the stream. You could see where the plane had first hit the ground, and then bounced over the stone wall which had never been touched before diving into the side of the stream.

We saw plenty of .303 ammunition in belts scattered about, also a small bomb which we later learned was a marker bomb used to mark the position of enemy submarines, and gave off a stream of orange smoke if one was sighted on the surface while they were on their way home.

A timer was set to release the smoke plume at the required time of arrival of our torpedo Bombers to do their job. Souvenirs were collected bits of perspex etc, then off we’d head for home until the next afternoon and off we went again, This went on for a few afternoons and was fun - except for the poor pilots who ended their young lives on these boggy Northumberland moors.

The Home Guard firing range

Every Sunday we kids used to visit the target range, as it was called, while the Home Guard were doing target practice. They used to run a shooting competition with the .22 rifle over 25 yards with the prize being 'winner take all'. It cost a tanner (6 old pence) to enter and brother Cliff and I used to hope they would ask us to enter. One day they did, and we were overjoyed and happily paid our tanner entry fee.

The end of the competition saw Sergeant Major Jackie Johnston and me left in the final. After shooting it out 3 times, I won it on a “½” group and collected my prize.

Invited to join the Home Guard

Later they asked if we would like to join the Home Guard as we could once we became 16 years old. I was to become a radio operator and had to learn the Morse Code etc. in the upstairs rooms of the Railway Hotel on Tuesday nights where Harry Glass (the publican) was our Captain.

We were issued uniforms and a .303 rifle plus a clip of 5 rounds of ammunition. Every Sunday was our Parade Day and we were very proud of ourselves now we could shoot the bigger rifles on the range. We were well prepared to defend Bellingham and the North Tyne from any advancing German hordes.

Dad’s car

Dad’s fist car was an Austin 7, which he bought just before the war. Dad was called up for war service and one weekend when he came on leave, he put the car up on wooden blocks to keep the tyres off the ground in the garage,

Cliff and I would spend quite a bit of time in the garage with this new fangled machine pretending to be driving it using all the gears and double de clutching and steering as the wheels were off the ground.

After a year or two, when Dad was on leave he registered the car for a three months to give it a run around, and he asked me if I’d like to learn to drive. ‘Yes’ I blurted out, so he took me for a spin around the Bridges. Settling into the driving seat, off we went up the Hesleyside road all the way around the Bridges and back home. Before we got out of the car Dad said to me ‘You haven’t driven before’? ‘No” I said.

Well Dad said to me there’s not much else that he could teach me, so when I was old enough I got my ‘Provisional Licence’ on the 3rd April 1945. I still have it today in my archives.

After the war was over, Dad sold the Austin 7 and updated to an Austin 10 for a few years before getting a Hillman. He then changed it once again to a Cortina as he was building a Caravan. The framework was of aluminium and ash, the same wood as used to build the famous wartime Mosquito aircraft. When it was all finished, Mam and Dad toured Scotland a couple of times before it was sold.

Smoking experiments

In our junior years in 1940/41 Cliff and I experimented in smoking by collecting dog ends off the road, looking in empty cigarette packets for a cigarette or cards which we used to save for a collection and swap with other lads in the village. The cards were printed in sets or different subjects such as famous footballers, famous cricketers, famous trains and so on.

At odd times we’d buy a clay pipe for a halfpenny each, and fill them up with ‘baccy’ we’d saved for a few puffs with the pipe each, Alas, one day we were caught by the local bobby Dick Oliver who was a Special Constable. He lodged at The Croft and was on his way to start his duty shift in the village. He told us not to smoke that rubbish as it would make us sick,

He told us he’d show us how to fill a pipe properly with real tobacco when he finished his shift that afternoon, as he lodged with the Wright family two doors from us at The Croft. Well true to his word, we met him at the seat at the Show field entrance where he then showed us how to cut the ‘Warhorse’ tobacco with a knife, how to rub it in the palms of our hands to break it up before filling the clay pipes which he’d also brought with him.

The ‘Warhorse’ tobacco was strong black stuff; he didn’t tell us this but we learned it later! Never mind, he got us all lit up and going full steam, and off we went up the Dunterly road puffing away like old hands. When we reached the farm, the Muscovy Ducks which were often out the front eating the grass didn’t look the same to us.

Instead of white, they looked green and by this time we were starting to feel a bit dizzy and sickly. That brought us down to earth a bit about smoking for a while. But a week or so later he caught us out again smoking fags, so he just took us into his digs (Mrs. Wright’s house), put his hand up the chimney and blackened our faces with soot. Then he kicked our backsides out the door.

We didn’t dare go home so we set off down to the Tyne to wash it off but that just made it worse. Unknown to us he had told Mother what he’d done, so we got in trouble again. Dad was away in the war and perhaps Dick was trying to keep us in line - which he did.

Rabbit pie

Often in the war years things were a bit tight in the food and money department, and Mother would at times ask us lads what we’d like for our dinner tomorrow night. Without hesitation Cliff and I would both blurt out ‘Rabbit Pie please’.

Mother’s response was then you’d better get out and catch some! So off down the byre we’d go to collect some snares, and take off around the wood side of the show field fence looking for runs to set our snares.

After a while and half a dozen snares later we would wander out into the open field and off the rabbits would go for cover where the snares were set. Then we’d retrace our tracks to collect our next dinner, but first we would have to gut and skin them. This along with the offal went down an old rabbit hole and stomped in with our hob nail boots.

Mother would then prepare the meat by putting it in a white vitreous enamel dish of salt and water to soak overnight. What we didn’t need the dog would get. The next night at dinner Cliff and I would scuffle over the kidneys so mother had to share them out between us to keep us both happy.

Trout & ducks

Brother Cliff would often go fishing in the Tyne for trout and, on his way down to the Riding stone area where he would fish, his Aylesbury & Khaki Campbell Ducks would follow him to the river for a swim around while he fished. After he’d caught a couple of trout, he’d make his way back home with the ducks following him.

Bees

Cliff and I used to keep bees and we had a couple of hives. We’d collect the honey when required and keep a check on the Queens to see how many new Queen cells were developing.

During the war years, we used to be allowed 10lb of sugar per hive to make candy to keep them alive during a hard winter, When the bees swarmed we would go out and collect them in a cardboard box to start a new hive. It was great fun keeping bees and interesting.

Cairnglastenhope[1] – a kids adventure

Going back a couple of years before the 1939-1945 war started, my Dad (Bob Charlton) planned a great adventure for us kids (me and brother Cliff and our cousin Tom Thompson). It was to cross over the fells and visit Cairnglastenhope Lake being 5 to 6 miles distant from The Croft.

So one Sunday spring morning we all set off over Dunterley Fell with our packed lunches heading west towards the Mesling Crags, crossing over the moors covered in Bent grass. We all chatted away to each other enjoying our hike toward the Lake.

Then coming across lots of depressions in the ground, Dad explained that years ago people dug these holes to extract coal from quite shallow seams, and worked them out to a radius of about 6 to 8 feet. They then moved on another 20 ft or so and started another new shaft. Over the years all these shafts eventually caved in to form a crater-like depression, all covered in Bent grass good cover for foxes to hide.

After a while we needed a bit of a rest, so sitting down on a bit of a ridge to have a drink, Tom asked Dad what the bones were he saw. Dad very coyly said that someone had stopped for a rest once, and that was all that was left of him (or her).

Needless to say we kept plodding on over the fells past Watson’s Walls and on towards the Lake called ‘Cairnglastenhope’ where we had lunch and a good rest, feeding the hundreds of seagulls which were nesting on the very tufted boggy ground at one end of the lake covered in rushes,

We managed to collect a couple of eggs and blew them to add to my collection, which my Uncle had given me to treasure. We got great delight in feeding the gulls with bread crusts by throwing them in the air for them to catch in flight.

The older lads from the Chirdon side used to collect the eggs by having a long cane rod with a spoon tied on the end as the area was very spongy and soft. I believe the eggs were used to keep the fox hounds in good fettle for hunting. Our return journey was a great sense of achievement and lots to tell our Mother once we were home again. We often went for long walks over the fells on Sunday mornings with Dad while our Mother baked scones, cakes, and Gooseberry and Rhubarb tarts in the oven before preparing Sunday dinner for all of us. We were a much loved and well fed lot of kids.

Australia bound

With our emigration application approved, and after the medicals etc, we were given six weeks to prepare to go. It was a very big decision time for us. Do we or don’t we go, was the question. We decided to go, and after two years (which we had to stay in any case as immigrants to claim the assisted passage) we’d either stay or return to the UK. We argued that if we didn’t go, we may have regretted it for the rest of our lives.

So I spent the time making packing cases in the back yard at The Croft over the Easter holidays in 80°F temperatures. The year before over the Easter Holidays we’d had 12 inches of snow – a big contrast.

We left with about half a Ton of cases which went ahead of us leaving for Tilbury Docks where we had to board the P.& O. Liner S.S. ORSOVA. We left on the 1st of May 1965, we stopped at Gibraltar, Naples, Port Said, Aden, Ceylon, Fremantle, Adelaide, Melbourne, and Sydney. The Charlton clan on the S.S. Orsova, 1 May, 1965 bound for Van Dieman's Land

Sydney Immigrant's Camp

We went straight into the ‘National Camps Corporation Hostel’ for immigrants called ‘Bunnerong Hostel’ in Matraville Sydney. I named this edifice Stalag Luft 3. We spent 2 years there and made lots of friends while we lived in Camp before moving out to our own house in Caringbah which a southern suburb of Sydney.

Both my parents came out to visit us in 1969-70 and also to see their new granddaughter Susan. While they were with us, they both said that we had made the right decision to stay in Australia.

Work

My first job was with the I.C.I. Chemical Plant which was near the Camp and paid good money for shift work, which I did for one year. Having saved a bit we bought a Morris Oxford car to get around a bit and to look at getting a different job away from Chemicals.

I started a new job with Thiess Bros as a fitter on earth moving equipment and spent the next 20 years of my working life there, progressing to ‘Charge Hand Fitter’ having 17 fitters and apprentices to look after. It certainly kept me quite busy plus ordering all parts required to carry out repairs.

While on Holiday in 1986, the Company was taken over by a Consortium and we were all made redundant and paid off. I got other work driving a truck for a year, then leaving to work and maintain forklift trucks for a couple of years before selling our house and moving up north to Coffs Harbour and going into retirement

We have never regretted making the move from UK to Australia, and are very happy in the house we have in Coffs, I now play lawn bowls as a recreational sport. I used to play golf but with a gammy knee I’m a bit restricted now. Once I did a good bit of fishing but I ended up selling the 15ft. boat we had as every time I wanted to go out fishing the seas were too rough. Gardening, cutting grass and home maintenance keep me busy now.

Dad’s call up

I can remember when 12 years old coming home from school and having to go into Hesleyside woods to collect my father’s gear and bait bag, as he had had an urgent phone call to report for duty to Wylam along with a few other men from Bellingham as they were all in the local Territorial Army.

This happened about a month before the war started, and their first task was to board the Polish cruise liner M.S. Pilsudski to take charge as the crew had mutinied. Next they were sent to France with motor bikes and sidecars to face the German tanks, ending up in the evacuation of Dunkirk.

After the Dunkirk evacuation

Returning home on leave after Dunkirk, Dad and quite a few other chaps from Bellingham were once again with their families. When they returned for duty, they got split up into different units and Dad was transferred into the Reconnaissance Corps, along with other chaps from the Village.

Their hat badge was also changed to an arrow flanked by streaks of lightning on either side, indicating it was a strike force. After a couple of moves around, they ended up at Langholm just over the Border, so Dad and one of the other chaps from the village would come home for the weekend every fortnight. So I used to pushbike down to the Fairshaw road end and leave the bike at the farm house on a Friday night, then I would catch Fosters Bus back home arriving 7.45pm.

Home by sharing the bike

Dad and his mate caught the train from Langholm to Carlisle, then the Newcastle train getting off at Fourstones and walking over to the Fairshaw Road End farm to collect the bike. They would then take turns on the bike riding 4 telephone poles, and leave the bike so then his mate would then do likewise until he passed the walker. Then it was 4 poles and start walking again until they got to The Croft.

Preparing for D-day

This arrangement went on for while until they were moved down South as they were then attached to the Guards 3rd Armoured Division and preparing for landing back on to the Continent. They then moved up to Banff in Northern Scotland to practice landings with air support from Lossiemouth.

Then back they went down south again waiting for D-Day Once over the Channel they moved through France, Belgium , Holland, and finally Germany, ending up in the Krupps factories where Dad fitted his drivers with new tool kits. He did tell me that going through Holland, he saw the cows in the fields were drunk after eating apples from the orchards, as all the fences had been knocked down. Was was over and it was demob time for him and his mates.

Back to the Hesleyside Estate

Dad was an ‘estate worker’ on the Hesleyside Estate where the main work was in the woods and running the estate sawmill which sold timber in the district. After the war he went back to Hesleyside as the Foreman on the estate. In later life he left Hesleyside and went to work for the Weightmans (Willie & John) at Lanehead who were joiners and undertakers.

When the Weightmans retired, Dad just started off on his own until he retired a few years later. However, folk kept on coming to him with jobs. He started the ‘Pensioner’s Task Force’ in the village on projects like making the walkway from the Tyne bridge down to the river side to opening to the village.

The GINGALL gun

He also restored the old Gingall gun outside the Town Hall. Two of the ‘old retainers’ of the village in those days were Geordie Dagg and Bob Robson (called Bugga Bob but not to his face!)

Footnote:

Many generations of village laddies helped each other to climb over the iron railings and up on to the gun to imagine firing it. But you had to be on watch, not just for the enemy, but for Sergeant Geordie Fell the village bobby, whose deterrent to juvenile crime was a boot up the backside.

Swimming & skating on the Tyne

During the school summer holidays we'd go swimming in the river Tyne which is where I learned to swim. On our way down from The Croft we used to pop the tar bubbles on the road with our sandals, which we wore a lot in the summer months. We used to get long Indian summers in those days.

In the winter, we'd go ice-skating on the Tyne and our mother used to skate too. I learned to skate around the diving board holding on to it for confidence. The two local stars were Jean Milburn and Jack Telford and they used to help us young folk improve our skills.

In the evenings and after dark we used to stack steel barrels which had been cut in half and placed one on top of each other with the open end upper filled with branches and logs, which gave a nice fireplace in the middle of the river on the ice for night skating. The fires would melt the surface ice a little which made for good smooth ice next night.

One year when the ice broke up, we found a salmon frozen into the ice with a piece bitten out of its neck probably by an otter. The local Catholic priest measured the ice thickness one year while we were there, and it was 18 inches thick. During that particular winter, Kit and Joe Maughan used to cart sand from the island in the river with horse and cart over the ice into the opening, and stockpile it for building work.

The Northern Farmers meal store

During the autumn we laddies would go down to the Northern Farmers into the meal Store and help load bags of feed for the local farms, and ride on the back of the wagon around these farms, sitting on the bags of feed and cake slabs. It was great fun eating a few of the smaller dog biscuits and locust beans etc. Approaching the farms, there were often apple trees around, so we'd collect one or two on our way in or out as the case may be. It was a fun day for us.

From gas to electricity

We used to have gas at The Croft in those days which came from the Bellingham gas works. But up at The Croft we had problems with water in the pipes as the gas would come through in surges as pressure built up to force its way along the pipes. Water lay in the low points along the pipe track down near the end of the Tyne Bridge. So we always had to have candles at the ready just in case we were blacked out.

But in about 1935 progress arrived and we were fitted out with electricity all along The Croft. We even had a street light too. In the house we gradually changed over to all things electric with the kettle and the iron being some of the first things bought. The old Bellingham gas works was no longer needed and became redundant, later being cut up for scrap. You could smell the gas around the old place for years afterwards.

Honey, fruit and nuts

For more entertainment, we would dig up Bumblebee nests and eat the honey which was in marble-sized sacks by sucking them out. Then there were hazel nuts, beechnuts, buttercup bulbs, wild strawberries, wild rasps and bilberries to supplement our diets. Then in autumn we would collect the uneatable chestnuts to play “conkers” at school which could get very competitive.

We all used to have fun in those days gone by. No mobile phones, TV, computers, or ipods. We made our own entertainment and remember that we all left school at age 14 to start earning a living.

Learning to fly

After moving to Coffs Harbour in New South Wales in 1995 I learned to fly. The Cessna 172 was my favorite plane which could carry 4 people, and I often had a full load. I used to do the Shark patrol between Woolgoolga and Nambucca Heads for the Radio station here in Coffs.

Pat and I often would go up for a spin for an hour or so, and it was great fun and a great sense of achievement for me. I haven't flown for a while as the Department called CASA started to get a bit hungry for money, as all these Departments do these days.

In September 1995 I also did a Parachute Jump from 10,000 ft over Coffs Harbour. It was a tandem jump but was very exciting. On the way down I took 11 Pictures of the area. I was pleased that I learned to fly when I did, as it's not as popular now because of the extra costs.

While we were in England on holiday in 1996, we hired a plane and flew from Carlisle airport right down the military road to the Fairshaw road-end then across to Wark and up to Bellingham. We did a couple of orbits and then on to Kielder over Kielder Water, back down to Lane Head and over by Cairnglastenhope to Green Head and back to Carlisle. It was a most enjoyable flight for us to fly over the old haunts.

  1. This may now be known as Grindon Lough near the Roman Wall