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A lot of people say your school days are the best days of your life. No adult worries and pressures to contend with, every moment is an opportunity to be carefree and childish and to live life to the full.
As I sit here, an 83 year old man in the twilight of his life, I think back to times gone by and whether I can really say what were the best days of my life.
Back in my childhood WW1 was over and the world was trying to pick itself back up and rebuild itself to its former glory. I lost close relatives but thankfully my mother and father came through the war, my father having spent most of it abroad fighting the enemy while my mother worked in the local hospital tending to the sick and injured.
I didn't really enjoy school as I wasn't much good at it and all throughout the day I looked forward to home time when I could run home to my parents for my tea. My mother by this time had given up work to run the family home while my father worked down the pit and I knew even at this early age I would end up down there too. It was expected of me really like most boys my age at that time.
After tea I would be straight out of the house into the street to play for the rest of the evening and be back home before dark for a bath then bed. We had a big tin bath that sat in front of the open fireplace in the front room which was lovely to get into in the winter to warm yourself up in front of a big open fire.
My childhood was a stable and happy one and when I look back upon it there are few unhappy memories. The only ones I can really recall are when I thought about the members of my family who had been killed during the war and the fact I'd never be able to know them.
I still think to this day that they could maybe still be alive and sitting here with me now. Such a waste.
I left school at 14 and went to work down the pit. Boy it was hard work. Up at 6am to be down the pit by 7, leave at 6pm and back home by 6-30 for tea. If you didn't get there by 7 you were locked out and lost your days pay. Couldn't afford to do that as money was tight like it was for everyone in those days.
The evenings were spent at home resting ready for the next days work although if I had the energy I liked to get out for a game of football or cricket in the street. We used a dustbin as the wicket or jumpers for goalposts.
I was 16 when WW2 broke out. My 2 brothers were called up to the front line as they were older than me but I was sent to work in the local ammunitions factory along with my father who by now was in his mid 40's and not called up either. We worked long hours making the shells and bullets to be sent to our troops all over the world fighting the enemy.
As I made them part of me was grateful that I wasn't out there risking my life day in day out but part of me wanted to be there fighting for my country and making my parents proud of me. I knew they were anyway but I somehow felt they were more proud of my brothers for being on the front line. This of course was untrue but it was a feeling I just couldn't shake off.
Two years later, a month after my 18th birthday the feeling went away. I was called up to fight in Egypt and was deployed 2 weeks later. For 4 years I made and lost some great friends and while I was immensely proud of doing my bit for the war effort I can say without a shadow of a doubt that these 4 years were the worst of my life.
Back in 1945 I was 22 and trying to block the horrors of the past 4 years out of my head. You didn't have any support like you do these days you were just told to pull yourself together and get on with life. Thats just what I did. Thats just what I had to do.
I didn't go back to working down the pit. I bucked the trend of my father and his father and got myself a job helping to rebuild my local community. Well I did work down the pit for 2 years so I suppose I did carry on the family tradition for a while.
My new job was much better than working down the pit. There you didn't see daylight during the winter and only caught a few hours during the summer. Not a nice job at all. My new job entailed a bit of everything really.
The first task was to clear all the rubble from the destroyed buildings to make way for the rebuilding of new ones. It was tough physically but it kept me fit. It was also tough mentally when you came upon a dead body hidden deep in the rubble but after the sights and sounds I'd heard during my 4 years on the front line it seemed like a piece of cake.
Some people thought I was insensitive but unlike them I'd been hardened to the bad side of life. Whether that was a good thing or not I don't know.
The best thing I got from that job was a wife. She was a seamstress and after the buildings had been rebuilt she came to help make and put the curtains back up. I knew she was the one for me as soon as I saw her and a year later we were married.
We lived with my parents for the first 6 months as we couldn't afford a house of our own but then we finally got a council house and made it our own. After the trauma and horror of the last 6 years I could finally start living again like I was back in my childhood.
Or so I thought. With adulthood comes great responsibility and after having 2 beautiful kids, a boy and a girl, I was not only responsible for myself but for them as well. This was far outweighed though by the joy of having these 2 bundles of energy around who reminded me of my own childhood. I just wished I could make myself go back in time to feel the joys and carefree life of my childhood.
For the next 2 decades there were highs and lows. The joy of seeing my kids grow up and develop into decent kind and caring adults gave me great pleasure was in great contrast to me losing both my parents and one of my brothers who was killed in a motor accident. He spent 6 years at war risking his life and one moment of losing concentration cost him his life. It's just the way it is really.
The kids left home and settled down with their partners when myself and my wife were in our late 40's and for the first time in years I felt free like I was a child again. Few responsibilities and no financial worry meant me and my wife had the most freedom we'd ever had in our lives. A few years later and the grandkids started to come along.
I have 3 grandaughters and 2 grandsons in total and they too brought me great joy and happiness. Like going back to my own childhood again. The good thing was though you can give them back!
After my wife and I retired in our early 60's we were the most free we'd ever been, able to do what we wanted when we wanted. Although that wasn't completely true. Old age started to creep in and the aches and pains of growing old became more apparent. Never the less we still enjoyed life to the full.
I lost my wife 6 years ago after 53 years of marriage. That was the worst day of my life. Nowadays I still have my health, family and friends and am thankful for that. Many people don't have that and I'm still alive which is the greatest gift you can have.
So as I think back to days gone by what was the best time of my life? Truthfully there wasn't a single one. The best times of your life are where you make the best out of the situation that you are in at that particular moment in time.
As I sit here, an 83 year old man in the twilight of his life, I think back to times gone by and whether I can really say what were the best days of my life.
Back in my childhood WW1 was over and the world was trying to pick itself back up and rebuild itself to its former glory. I lost close relatives but thankfully my mother and father came through the war, my father having spent most of it abroad fighting the enemy while my mother worked in the local hospital tending to the sick and injured.
I didn't really enjoy school as I wasn't much good at it and all throughout the day I looked forward to home time when I could run home to my parents for my tea. My mother by this time had given up work to run the family home while my father worked down the pit and I knew even at this early age I would end up down there too. It was expected of me really like most boys my age at that time.
After tea I would be straight out of the house into the street to play for the rest of the evening and be back home before dark for a bath then bed. We had a big tin bath that sat in front of the open fireplace in the front room which was lovely to get into in the winter to warm yourself up in front of a big open fire.
My childhood was a stable and happy one and when I look back upon it there are few unhappy memories. The only ones I can really recall are when I thought about the members of my family who had been killed during the war and the fact I'd never be able to know them.
I still think to this day that they could maybe still be alive and sitting here with me now. Such a waste.
I left school at 14 and went to work down the pit. Boy it was hard work. Up at 6am to be down the pit by 7, leave at 6pm and back home by 6-30 for tea. If you didn't get there by 7 you were locked out and lost your days pay. Couldn't afford to do that as money was tight like it was for everyone in those days.
The evenings were spent at home resting ready for the next days work although if I had the energy I liked to get out for a game of football or cricket in the street. We used a dustbin as the wicket or jumpers for goalposts.
I was 16 when WW2 broke out. My 2 brothers were called up to the front line as they were older than me but I was sent to work in the local ammunitions factory along with my father who by now was in his mid 40's and not called up either. We worked long hours making the shells and bullets to be sent to our troops all over the world fighting the enemy.
As I made them part of me was grateful that I wasn't out there risking my life day in day out but part of me wanted to be there fighting for my country and making my parents proud of me. I knew they were anyway but I somehow felt they were more proud of my brothers for being on the front line. This of course was untrue but it was a feeling I just couldn't shake off.
Two years later, a month after my 18th birthday the feeling went away. I was called up to fight in Egypt and was deployed 2 weeks later. For 4 years I made and lost some great friends and while I was immensely proud of doing my bit for the war effort I can say without a shadow of a doubt that these 4 years were the worst of my life.
Back in 1945 I was 22 and trying to block the horrors of the past 4 years out of my head. You didn't have any support like you do these days you were just told to pull yourself together and get on with life. Thats just what I did. Thats just what I had to do.
I didn't go back to working down the pit. I bucked the trend of my father and his father and got myself a job helping to rebuild my local community. Well I did work down the pit for 2 years so I suppose I did carry on the family tradition for a while.
My new job was much better than working down the pit. There you didn't see daylight during the winter and only caught a few hours during the summer. Not a nice job at all. My new job entailed a bit of everything really.
The first task was to clear all the rubble from the destroyed buildings to make way for the rebuilding of new ones. It was tough physically but it kept me fit. It was also tough mentally when you came upon a dead body hidden deep in the rubble but after the sights and sounds I'd heard during my 4 years on the front line it seemed like a piece of cake.
Some people thought I was insensitive but unlike them I'd been hardened to the bad side of life. Whether that was a good thing or not I don't know.
The best thing I got from that job was a wife. She was a seamstress and after the buildings had been rebuilt she came to help make and put the curtains back up. I knew she was the one for me as soon as I saw her and a year later we were married.
We lived with my parents for the first 6 months as we couldn't afford a house of our own but then we finally got a council house and made it our own. After the trauma and horror of the last 6 years I could finally start living again like I was back in my childhood.
Or so I thought. With adulthood comes great responsibility and after having 2 beautiful kids, a boy and a girl, I was not only responsible for myself but for them as well. This was far outweighed though by the joy of having these 2 bundles of energy around who reminded me of my own childhood. I just wished I could make myself go back in time to feel the joys and carefree life of my childhood.
For the next 2 decades there were highs and lows. The joy of seeing my kids grow up and develop into decent kind and caring adults gave me great pleasure was in great contrast to me losing both my parents and one of my brothers who was killed in a motor accident. He spent 6 years at war risking his life and one moment of losing concentration cost him his life. It's just the way it is really.
The kids left home and settled down with their partners when myself and my wife were in our late 40's and for the first time in years I felt free like I was a child again. Few responsibilities and no financial worry meant me and my wife had the most freedom we'd ever had in our lives. A few years later and the grandkids started to come along.
I have 3 grandaughters and 2 grandsons in total and they too brought me great joy and happiness. Like going back to my own childhood again. The good thing was though you can give them back!
After my wife and I retired in our early 60's we were the most free we'd ever been, able to do what we wanted when we wanted. Although that wasn't completely true. Old age started to creep in and the aches and pains of growing old became more apparent. Never the less we still enjoyed life to the full.
I lost my wife 6 years ago after 53 years of marriage. That was the worst day of my life. Nowadays I still have my health, family and friends and am thankful for that. Many people don't have that and I'm still alive which is the greatest gift you can have.
So as I think back to days gone by what was the best time of my life? Truthfully there wasn't a single one. The best times of your life are where you make the best out of the situation that you are in at that particular moment in time.
It also reminded me of a Werthers advert (in a good way!)
The facts aren't no but it's loosely based on stories my grandad used to tell me.
Not so much a story as a diary.
Is this based on anyone real?
Is this based on anyone real?
A lot of people say your school days are the best days of your life. No adult worries and pressures to contend with, every moment is an opportunity to be carefree and childish and to live life to the full.
As I sit here, an 83 year old man in the twilight of his life, I think back to times gone by and whether I can really say what were the best days of my life.
Back in my childhood WW1 was over and the world was trying to pick itself back up and rebuild itself to its former glory. I lost close relatives but thankfully my mother and father came through the war, my father having spent most of it abroad fighting the enemy while my mother worked in the local hospital tending to the sick and injured.
I didn't really enjoy school as I wasn't much good at it and all throughout the day I looked forward to home time when I could run home to my parents for my tea. My mother by this time had given up work to run the family home while my father worked down the pit and I knew even at this early age I would end up down there too. It was expected of me really like most boys my age at that time.
After tea I would be straight out of the house into the street to play for the rest of the evening and be back home before dark for a bath then bed. We had a big tin bath that sat in front of the open fireplace in the front room which was lovely to get into in the winter to warm yourself up in front of a big open fire.
My childhood was a stable and happy one and when I look back upon it there are few unhappy memories. The only ones I can really recall are when I thought about the members of my family who had been killed during the war and the fact I'd never be able to know them.
I still think to this day that they could maybe still be alive and sitting here with me now. Such a waste.
I left school at 14 and went to work down the pit. Boy it was hard work. Up at 6am to be down the pit by 7, leave at 6pm and back home by 6-30 for tea. If you didn't get there by 7 you were locked out and lost your days pay. Couldn't afford to do that as money was tight like it was for everyone in those days.
The evenings were spent at home resting ready for the next days work although if I had the energy I liked to get out for a game of football or cricket in the street. We used a dustbin as the wicket or jumpers for goalposts.
I was 16 when WW2 broke out. My 2 brothers were called up to the front line as they were older than me but I was sent to work in the local ammunitions factory along with my father who by now was in his mid 40's and not called up either. We worked long hours making the shells and bullets to be sent to our troops all over the world fighting the enemy.
As I made them part of me was grateful that I wasn't out there risking my life day in day out but part of me wanted to be there fighting for my country and making my parents proud of me. I knew they were anyway but I somehow felt they were more proud of my brothers for being on the front line. This of course was untrue but it was a feeling I just couldn't shake off.
Two years later, a month after my 18th birthday the feeling went away. I was called up to fight in Egypt and was deployed 2 weeks later. For 4 years I made and lost some great friends and while I was immensely proud of doing my bit for the war effort I can say without a shadow of a doubt that these 4 years were the worst of my life.
Back in 1945 I was 22 and trying to block the horrors of the past 4 years out of my head. You didn't have any support like you do these days you were just told to pull yourself together and get on with life. Thats just what I did. Thats just what I had to do.
I didn't go back to working down the pit. I bucked the trend of my father and his father and got myself a job helping to rebuild my local community. Well I did work down the pit for 2 years so I suppose I did carry on the family tradition for a while.
My new job was much better than working down the pit. There you didn't see daylight during the winter and only caught a few hours during the summer. Not a nice job at all. My new job entailed a bit of everything really.
The first task was to clear all the rubble from the destroyed buildings to make way for the rebuilding of new ones. It was tough physically but it kept me fit. It was also tough mentally when you came upon a dead body hidden deep in the rubble but after the sights and sounds I'd heard during my 4 years on the front line it seemed like a piece of cake.
Some people thought I was insensitive but unlike them I'd been hardened to the bad side of life. Whether that was a good thing or not I don't know.
The best thing I got from that job was a wife. She was a seamstress and after the buildings had been rebuilt she came to help make and put the curtains back up. I knew she was the one for me as soon as I saw her and a year later we were married.
We lived with my parents for the first 6 months as we couldn't afford a house of our own but then we finally got a council house and made it our own. After the trauma and horror of the last 6 years I could finally start living again like I was back in my childhood.
Or so I thought. With adulthood comes great responsibility and after having 2 beautiful kids, a boy and a girl, I was not only responsible for myself but for them as well. This was far outweighed though by the joy of having these 2 bundles of energy around who reminded me of my own childhood. I just wished I could make myself go back in time to feel the joys and carefree life of my childhood.
For the next 2 decades there were highs and lows. The joy of seeing my kids grow up and develop into decent kind and caring adults gave me great pleasure was in great contrast to me losing both my parents and one of my brothers who was killed in a motor accident. He spent 6 years at war risking his life and one moment of losing concentration cost him his life. It's just the way it is really.
The kids left home and settled down with their partners when myself and my wife were in our late 40's and for the first time in years I felt free like I was a child again. Few responsibilities and no financial worry meant me and my wife had the most freedom we'd ever had in our lives. A few years later and the grandkids started to come along.
I have 3 grandaughters and 2 grandsons in total and they too brought me great joy and happiness. Like going back to my own childhood again. The good thing was though you can give them back!
After my wife and I retired in our early 60's we were the most free we'd ever been, able to do what we wanted when we wanted. Although that wasn't completely true. Old age started to creep in and the aches and pains of growing old became more apparent. Never the less we still enjoyed life to the full.
I lost my wife 6 years ago after 53 years of marriage. That was the worst day of my life. Nowadays I still have my health, family and friends and am thankful for that. Many people don't have that and I'm still alive which is the greatest gift you can have.
So as I think back to days gone by what was the best time of my life? Truthfully there wasn't a single one. The best times of your life are where you make the best out of the situation that you are in at that particular moment in time.
As I sit here, an 83 year old man in the twilight of his life, I think back to times gone by and whether I can really say what were the best days of my life.
Back in my childhood WW1 was over and the world was trying to pick itself back up and rebuild itself to its former glory. I lost close relatives but thankfully my mother and father came through the war, my father having spent most of it abroad fighting the enemy while my mother worked in the local hospital tending to the sick and injured.
I didn't really enjoy school as I wasn't much good at it and all throughout the day I looked forward to home time when I could run home to my parents for my tea. My mother by this time had given up work to run the family home while my father worked down the pit and I knew even at this early age I would end up down there too. It was expected of me really like most boys my age at that time.
After tea I would be straight out of the house into the street to play for the rest of the evening and be back home before dark for a bath then bed. We had a big tin bath that sat in front of the open fireplace in the front room which was lovely to get into in the winter to warm yourself up in front of a big open fire.
My childhood was a stable and happy one and when I look back upon it there are few unhappy memories. The only ones I can really recall are when I thought about the members of my family who had been killed during the war and the fact I'd never be able to know them.
I still think to this day that they could maybe still be alive and sitting here with me now. Such a waste.
I left school at 14 and went to work down the pit. Boy it was hard work. Up at 6am to be down the pit by 7, leave at 6pm and back home by 6-30 for tea. If you didn't get there by 7 you were locked out and lost your days pay. Couldn't afford to do that as money was tight like it was for everyone in those days.
The evenings were spent at home resting ready for the next days work although if I had the energy I liked to get out for a game of football or cricket in the street. We used a dustbin as the wicket or jumpers for goalposts.
I was 16 when WW2 broke out. My 2 brothers were called up to the front line as they were older than me but I was sent to work in the local ammunitions factory along with my father who by now was in his mid 40's and not called up either. We worked long hours making the shells and bullets to be sent to our troops all over the world fighting the enemy.
As I made them part of me was grateful that I wasn't out there risking my life day in day out but part of me wanted to be there fighting for my country and making my parents proud of me. I knew they were anyway but I somehow felt they were more proud of my brothers for being on the front line. This of course was untrue but it was a feeling I just couldn't shake off.
Two years later, a month after my 18th birthday the feeling went away. I was called up to fight in Egypt and was deployed 2 weeks later. For 4 years I made and lost some great friends and while I was immensely proud of doing my bit for the war effort I can say without a shadow of a doubt that these 4 years were the worst of my life.
Back in 1945 I was 22 and trying to block the horrors of the past 4 years out of my head. You didn't have any support like you do these days you were just told to pull yourself together and get on with life. Thats just what I did. Thats just what I had to do.
I didn't go back to working down the pit. I bucked the trend of my father and his father and got myself a job helping to rebuild my local community. Well I did work down the pit for 2 years so I suppose I did carry on the family tradition for a while.
My new job was much better than working down the pit. There you didn't see daylight during the winter and only caught a few hours during the summer. Not a nice job at all. My new job entailed a bit of everything really.
The first task was to clear all the rubble from the destroyed buildings to make way for the rebuilding of new ones. It was tough physically but it kept me fit. It was also tough mentally when you came upon a dead body hidden deep in the rubble but after the sights and sounds I'd heard during my 4 years on the front line it seemed like a piece of cake.
Some people thought I was insensitive but unlike them I'd been hardened to the bad side of life. Whether that was a good thing or not I don't know.
The best thing I got from that job was a wife. She was a seamstress and after the buildings had been rebuilt she came to help make and put the curtains back up. I knew she was the one for me as soon as I saw her and a year later we were married.
We lived with my parents for the first 6 months as we couldn't afford a house of our own but then we finally got a council house and made it our own. After the trauma and horror of the last 6 years I could finally start living again like I was back in my childhood.
Or so I thought. With adulthood comes great responsibility and after having 2 beautiful kids, a boy and a girl, I was not only responsible for myself but for them as well. This was far outweighed though by the joy of having these 2 bundles of energy around who reminded me of my own childhood. I just wished I could make myself go back in time to feel the joys and carefree life of my childhood.
For the next 2 decades there were highs and lows. The joy of seeing my kids grow up and develop into decent kind and caring adults gave me great pleasure was in great contrast to me losing both my parents and one of my brothers who was killed in a motor accident. He spent 6 years at war risking his life and one moment of losing concentration cost him his life. It's just the way it is really.
The kids left home and settled down with their partners when myself and my wife were in our late 40's and for the first time in years I felt free like I was a child again. Few responsibilities and no financial worry meant me and my wife had the most freedom we'd ever had in our lives. A few years later and the grandkids started to come along.
I have 3 grandaughters and 2 grandsons in total and they too brought me great joy and happiness. Like going back to my own childhood again. The good thing was though you can give them back!
After my wife and I retired in our early 60's we were the most free we'd ever been, able to do what we wanted when we wanted. Although that wasn't completely true. Old age started to creep in and the aches and pains of growing old became more apparent. Never the less we still enjoyed life to the full.
I lost my wife 6 years ago after 53 years of marriage. That was the worst day of my life. Nowadays I still have my health, family and friends and am thankful for that. Many people don't have that and I'm still alive which is the greatest gift you can have.
So as I think back to days gone by what was the best time of my life? Truthfully there wasn't a single one. The best times of your life are where you make the best out of the situation that you are in at that particular moment in time.