Peter J. Sharpe

Peter J. Sharpe
Dad, being the youngest, was reputedly rather spoilt! His sister Rita says the coloured photo proves it "I never had a coloured photo!" she said ...

Thursday 21 June 2012

National Service Part 3



I went to the bandmaster and he told me to put my things into the hut and get ready for the band room for 9 o’clock in the morning. I was a little sorry for the rest of the lads as they still had to do all their training. We saw each other during the evening and they didn’t seem to be too bothered. 



It was quite easy in the band but every Friday the captains etc. used to have a dinner and one or two would get a bit worse for wear and used to ask us to play a particular song or wanted to have a go at blowing the trumpet - even though they couldn't get a sound out of it. Sometimes we were very late back especially if they had visitors from other barracks.

It seemed funny to me as several of the soldiers walked back late at night and yet Cyprus was still fighting. One sergeant asked me and another man to come and look after his children as they were going to the Sergeants' party. We said yes but we weren’t too happy about it as there were bombs and guns going off about 3 miles away. Several times soldiers were requested to go and guard the police station for a few days.

There were a few small incidents in the town and a jeep was blown up on one occasion.  When we went out we had to make sure we were in groups of at least four and one of us had to have a gun.

Out and about in Famagusta: Me, Crush, Ray, Reg
Me, David, Baz

I remember clearly one time when we had to parade for the Governor of Cyprus. We went to a large complex which was surrounded by barbed wire for security.  We were all out on the sand waiting for him to arrive.  Finally, when his helicopter landed, all the sand flew up in the air and we couldn’t actually see him for about 10 minutes! He seemed a jolly man and inspected the ranks, going along the lines full of smiles.

Band greets the Governor of Cyprus: I'm somewhere at the back!
Another time we got wind that the Cypriots were planning to make trouble. That came at a time when we were packing up because we were leaving in a fortnight and the Gurkhas were taking over. A lot of things had been packed up including many of our rifles. There was a bit of a panic and soldiers were sent to guard the police stations. What could we, the band, do?  There were about 40 of us plus the conductor but there were only about 30 rifles so the rest of us just had to get knives, brushes, sticks and any other weapon we could improvise.  Fortunately, it only went on for three days and then the Gurkhas were ready to come in.

Everyone was pleased to be heading home again and everything was packed onto the ships. We first stopped at a country that wasn’t on good terms with the English so we weren’t allowed to disembark. We then headed to Gibraltar where we stopped for about 5 days until we were given the ‘good to go’ instruction.  It then took a further three days to get to Liverpool and, thankfully, there wasn’t as much sickness this time.  We were soon off the ship and onto the train and had instructions to return to barracks in 12 days after which the whole battalion would be going to Germany.

On parade back at Glen Parva (at back somewhere!)

It was good to be home and Diane was pleased to see me. 


Me with Diane in London, Sept 1956, the summer before I started national service -
 Diane was 15 here.


Sunday 17 June 2012

Happy Father's Day!

A special Father's Day blog entry today!

in honour of today being Dad's special day, here's a selection of photographs of Dad in no particular order ... 

With Son Martin 1962/3


Doing Dad things


Bonfire Night


With Martin at Brands Hatch, 1986?
Being President of Charnwood Chamber of Trade
Carving the Xmas turkey L-R Julia, Caroline, Mum & Dad
Cowboy Dad
Left: Ruth and Julia playing Ice Cream Vans!  Right: Martin, Julia, Ruth
Meeting Diana Dors - A definite highlight!!

Being Grandad - top left: with  Ben; top rightBen, Kimberely and Chloe; bottom left: giving Anna-Ruth a ride in the barrow; bottom right: teaching Amy pitch and putt.


With 5 of his sisters and brothers (late 1980s?) Left - Right: Lenny, Rita, Dad, Renee, Sid, Mary

Easter Bonnet 2011

Father of the Bride, 2009: Dad, Caroline, Charles, Mum

At a family wedding in 1974: Left to right: Uncle Sid, Martin, Julia, Mum, Ruth, Dad, Reg

Dad in holiday mode Left: 1980's Dad - Right 1990's Dad

loving the beach 21st Century Dad / Grandad (Anna-Ruth and Amy in the background)

Reading the Echo

Always the clown!

With Granddaughter Anna-Ruth, 1993

From Left: Introducing Anna-Ruth to chocolate; giving Anna-Ruth a bottle; relaxing with Amy.

Youngest daughter Caroline with Dad Mid 1980s

Christmas Day around 1980: Dad, Mum, Caroline, Martin, Julia



And finally:

Today!  I presented Dad with a printed version of the blog so far in his very own personally designed book bag using his old business logo!


Wednesday 13 June 2012

National Service part 2

We had to polish up our uniforms ready for a special parade on the Sunday when families were invited to come.  The parade went through with the band and flags were flying for the guests. We then had time to show the guests around.

At Glen Parva Barracks (I'm far right on the back row)

Over the following days and weeks we carried on with work and training as normal and occasionally we’d got chance to go home for a while.  We carried on much the same until December.  We were told that when we came back from leave we’d be going to Cyprus but we were not allowed to tell anyone. 

We arrived back at the barracks on December 12th to get our kit bags ready.  On the following morning we had to march through the village to catch the train and people were waving as we went past. It was a long journey involving several trains and we finally arrived at the docks at about 3 o’clock and had lunch on the station before walking up onto the Devonshire ship. We went below and found our hammocks and after we’d had food the ship was ready to leave about 10 o’clock. There were many other soldiers on board, some from the Air Force as well as soldiers from Wales and Scotland.

Postcard of the Devonshire

At night there was about forty of us struggling to get into our hammocks.  Several soldiers were told to go on deck to keep a look out and when they came back down at about 6am some of them started to be sick.  I just thought they must be weaklings because I felt fine but as soon as I jumped down from the hammock I felt a bit queasy. I got ready and made my way to get breakfast.  I went through one door, had my plate filled with food, suddenly started to feel sick and walked straight out the other door, threw my food in the bin and ran up to the deck. When I got there, there were hundreds of others spewing over the side!

All through the day you could see big strong men being held up looking as green as grass. Later things got better but there was still a lot of heaving going on!

The next day things were better as the sea had calmed down and we had a lot of jobs to do – mainly cleaning.  We were happy to call in at Gibraltar and see the monkeys jumping around the rocks. Even before we’d docked, the local men were jumping onto the ship asking us for money and anything else. Then, when we disembarked, we were greeted by men opening their overcoats and offering to sell us all kinds of things like watches and bangles etc. I didn’t buy anything from them but I did go into a shop and bought Diane a musical compact.  I wasn’t sure that it would reach her but she did get it in time for Christmas.

After this the ship then set sail again for Kyrenia, north Cyprus.  The ship couldn’t get close to the island so several large boats took us in. When we saw the mountains and trees we all thought the Cypriots were hiding and watching us and when we were piled into the lorries lots of the soldiers had their rifles at the ready. We had quite a journey to Famagusta on the south of the island.

When we arrived the Sergeant got us all into line and warned us to be careful as one of our soldiers had shot himself – luckily, it was only his toe but be careful! We were told that the corporal would allocate our tents for the next fortnight while we underwent further training.

We were only 2 days in and it was Christmas Day. We were surprised to see the soldiers running around in fancy clothes and a captain in the army was running about in a jeep and three others were running about having fun dodging in and out with the soldiers. Later we had a special Christmas dinner.



I only spent a few days in the tent because they came along asking for Soldier Peter Sharpe and I was told to pack my bags and report to the Bandmaster.

Monday 11 June 2012

National Service Part 1

Meeting Bud Fisher and learning to play the cornet proved to be very advantageous when it came to being called up for National Service aged 21.  As I was approaching the call up age I spotted an advertisement, made an application and received the following correspondance:










So, the time came when I had to report to the army barracks. Diane and her mother came with me on the bus to Leicester and left me as I got on the next bus. As I got on there were 6 men all going to the same Glen Parva barracks and my time with the Royal Leicestershire Regimet began.



In the afternoon we were shown the sleeping quarters where there were thirty beds per room. Next we had to collect our bedding and then went off to the uniform area where they just threw a bundle of uniform at each of us hoping they’d fit! We all had a good laugh but that didn’t last long when the corporal soon got us into line and took us back to the building and told us we had to clean our belts, boots and leggings (similar to gaiters). He said he would be back later and everything must be as clean and shiny as his brass belt. He came back about 8 o’clock and said we’d not done too badly. He told us the canteen was next door and we could go and help ourselves until 9 o’clock but must then come back as soon as possible to settle down as the bugle plays at 6am to get us up. He said he wanted us up and out as quickly as possible as we had to clear the grounds of any litter and rubbish before we could wash ourselves and go for breakfast at 8am.

We were told that we weren’t allowed to leave the barracks for 14 days. One of the first things we had to do was learn how to March. Most of us were able to do it but around 6 or 7 lads just couldn’t get their legs in rhythm!

Starting National Service


I remember piling into a couple of lorries for days out to other parts of the barracks. We went to do target practice on a range about 100 yards long with targets at the end which were about 8 foot square. There were 6 men behind a screen and it was their job to pull the targets down to see where the bullets had hit. The smallest ring was 6", then 14, then 28, then 42 etc. When we started the bullets were flying everywhere with a lot of them missing the targets completely and bouncing off the ironwork and heading straight back to where we were in the trench!  Halfway through we stopped shooting so that they could pull the targets down and tally up the scores then they’d display a big board showing the poll.

Other days were spent:
  • sliding down ropes
  • doing a fun run through the hills and rocks
  • going on parade and to church
  • doing a 6 mile run around the area
Around day 9 we had an easy day because we were going to be called for a night time exercise at  9 o’clock:

It was very quiet when we started out and then fireworks started filling the air. I was creeping around in the dark and I fell over a cow that was lying down in a field. As the night went on we had to crawl through mud and water.  After about a mile we could hear the ‘enemy’ crackling in the bush. It was getting closer – it was a good job they weren’t firing real bullets! We were still in the pitch black and there were bodies lying around everywhere – the supposedly dead ones were lying down with a little sticker on them. The exercise finished at about 5 in the morning. We were filthy and couldn’t wait to get in the shower which wasn’t very hot. We managed to eat a meal and were then allowed to sleep in until 12 o’clock the next day.

Writing to Diane


Thursday 7 June 2012

School Trip to Liverpool

Amongst Dad's school reports, examples of his school work and certificates was a fabulous guide book of a School trip to Liverpool. 



Below is the itinerary for the trip:


The guide book included a sketched map of the train journey (pictured below) and then a fabulous description of the journey which I typed up for ease of reading:


'From Loughborough we travel along the soar Valley through Hathern (Brick and Tile Works) to Kegworth and over the Trent. Turning North West here, we follow the Derwent Valley to Derby (Locomotive, China and Rolls-Royce Works). From Derby, after twice crossing the river Derwent near Duffield (Ruined Castle) we pass through the Chevin Tunnel to Belper (Cotton Mills).

Notice the wide view of the Derwent Valley. Next comes Ambergate, a triangular junction, with a wire works and the wooded Shining Cliff.  Notice here that the railway, road and canal run parallel through the valley. Several Tunnels bring us to Whatstandwell (Timber yards) and Cromford. Now we enter the deep derwent Valley at Matlock Bath (Limestone Heights of Abraham), tunnel under High Tor and on to Matlock (Tarmac Works), and to Darley Dale (Bakelite Works) with Stanton Moor to the left.

Next comes Rowsley (Peacock Inn for anglers); look out for River Wye joining the Derwent. Another tunnel takes us under Haddon Hall and soon we come to Bakewell (Tarts) Notice the limestone walls of the Peak District taking the place of hedges. Lovely views at Hassop and Great Longstone, then another tunnel, Monsal Dale, in the Wye Valley is on your left as we leave this tunnel. Still another tunnel, then a lovely deep cutting in the Wye Valley appears on our right. Next look down on the left at Miller's Dale to see the Wye as a rushing mountain stream.

More tunnels, especially Dove Holes Tunnel, in which the railway is at its highest point in our journey, then we rush downhill to Chapel en le Frith (Ferodo brake linings). At Chinley we leave the Peak scenery and the journey becomes less interesting. Look for the Diesel Oil Engine Works and Brick Works.

After another tunnel, we reach Hazlegrove, cross the old L.N.E.R. line at Cheadle Heath. Now look out for the Manchester Ship Canal. The railway hereabouts was built with great difficulty over Chat Moss, marshy ground, and had to be packed underneath with brushwood to get a firm foundation.

We may see our first big ships in the Herculaneum Dock, then our last tunnel and we arrive at Liverpool.'

The guide book also includes some facts about Liverpool; a plan of Liverpool Cathedral; a description of the Mersey Tunnel, how it was made and what to look out for; and information about The Ferry from New Brighton pier. (Am happy to scan more pages of the booklet if anyone is interested to see more - just let me know!)

The boys also had to adhere to some 'instructions' about behaviour and were advised to stay in their own 'compartment' unless they had permission to leave. One of their instructions reads:

'Keep calm - seats are reserved for you and fussiness will spoil the pleasure of others.'

All in all, this sounds like a fabulous trip with much of its enjoyment being in the travel as much as anything else - I bet they loved all those tunnels.  It sounds like a world away from most of today's school trips where destinations are reached after a journey made along a characterless motorway with all the pupils plugged into their iPods to pass the time!!

More from Dad next time - National Service coming up!

© Ruth Coward 2012

Accolades


Dad's response to the last post which looked at his school reports was, 'I wasn't that bad! It was the teachers ... although I did get the cane a few times!'

So, to redress any imbalance, here are some of Dad's certificates of achievement!

April 1947: for Excellence in Reporting a Lecture on the Hygiene of Food & Drink
July 1947: Steady Progress

July 1948: Grade 1 Swimming
1950: for half hour's flying




© Ruth Coward 2012