MEMORIES OF MY GRANDFATHER ON HIS BIRTHDAY

My grandfather, Alfred Reginald Randell, was born on this day in 1899 and lived with his parents in a little "two-up, two-down" house in what is known as The Railway Village in Swindon.  He was one of ten children, although two died in infancy - but quite how my Great Grandmother managed with eight children in that tiny house, I will never know.  These tiny cottages were built for the Railway workers and my Great Grandfather was a Railway Factory Watchman. Their cottage had one room and a kitchen downstairs and two bedrooms upstairs with a toilet at the bottom of the garden, so no mod-cons in those days! 

When Alf, as he was known, was 15 years old he ran away from home and joined the Army, but his mother wasn’t happy about that, as he was underage, so after only three weeks, she found out where he was and had him brought back home.  I daresay the homecoming wasn’t a happy one, as Alf obviously wanted to serve his country.  On the British Army WWI Pension Record it states “Discharged 24/4/15 having made mis-statement as to age on enlistment.”

However, when Alf was 16, he was old enough to join the Royal Navy, so off he went.  He was assigned to HMS Warrior just days before the Battle of Jutland, which was significant both for being the largest and only naval battle of the First World War, and for the many lives lost. His parents feared the worst, only to be reassured by a telegram that he was fine and coming home on leave.  He was a handsome young stoker on board ship and reading through his log book, dating from 1919 to 1923, which I am privileged to have, it was obviously a difficult and physical job, at very high temperatures, in an atmosphere full of coal dust, with the furnaces roaring.  He served in the Navy for several years, and in 1919, when he was only 20 years old, he got married in Portsmouth.  He and my Grandmother had 3 children, Alfred, born in 1919, my mother, Elizabeth born in 1924 and Barbara, born in 1929.

My Grandparents lived in Swindon for some time, but for as long as I can remember they lived apart and although my Grandmother continued to live in Swindon, my Grandfather lived in Oxford.  I remember on many occasions going to Oxford on the bus with my Mum, which used to take over two hours.  Grandad would be there to meet us at the Bus Station, put us on another bus to get to his house, then he would ride his bike home, often getting there before us.

He lived with a lady I called Aunty Mabe, although I don’t believe she was a relative but just a friend of his, and it was always a joy to visit them.  They kept chickens at the bottom of the garden, and there was always a large saucepan on the gas stove, which I remember smelled revolting, but which was food for the chickens.  All his chickens had names, and were almost like pets, and I well remember that “Mary” one of the chickens died, but she was buried in the garden, as they said they couldn’t possibly eat her!  Whilst remembering this, I can almost smell the food in that saucepan - yuk!

Grandad always took great pride in his garden, both back and front; he had rows and rows of vegetables and always seemed to be working out there.  His front garden didn’t have flowers, but lots of runner beans, peas and potatoes.  However, a few years ago, when I passed the house, I noticed the garden looked very unkempt and remember thinking how upset he would have been to see it looking like that.
 
When it was time for us to leave, Grandad would get out his old bike again, and walk with us to the bus stop round the corner, put us on the bus and then ride to the Bus Station, where he would make sure we got on the right bus, press a two shilling piece into my hand, and then wave us off before riding back home.

One funny memory I have of my Grandad is that he had an old mahogany rocking chair, which he would often take into the front garden to sit in and rock, and just watch the world go by.  I remember asking him if I could have it when he died, but was shocked to visit one day and find the rocking chair had gone.  I asked Aunty Mabe where it was and she said that Grandad had been in the front garden rocking in it one day, when it tipped over and he went sprawling, so he chopped it up for firewood;  I was so disappointed but he said he didn’t want me to do the same thing and get hurt!

So many wonderful memories of a man who died over almost 45 years ago, and one of my regrets is that I don’t have a photograph of us together, but with the wonders of modern technology, I have put us together in this shot - Grandad taken during WWII and me, in a school photograph when I was about 9 years old. 

Happy Birthday, Grandad - so many happy memories.  Thank you for enriching my life so much.  

“Grandparents, like heroes, 
     are as necessary to a child's growth 
          as vitamins.” 
Joyce Allston
 
Today’s joys:
 
Remembering the happy times spent with my Grandad
Seeing Mr. HCB enjoying working in the garden, and enjoying it, 
just like my Grandad
Feeling fit and well and hoping that we stay that way.

P.S.  Thank you for your kind comments for yesterday's Blip - I had quite a serious triggering incident with my finger this morning, which has left it very sore, so please forgive no comments for the time being.