Below is Roland Bullock’s written history of his recollection of living in Egglescliffe. You can follow what he says in his oral history simply by clicking the above, sitting back and enjoying what he say.
Roland Bullock interviewed by Ian Reynolds 6 August 2018
I was born on the 12th June 1944, [ corrected later to 1945]. I was born in Cocklebury which was one of the old RAF bases during the war. After they went away, we were given one of the RAF huts to live in. We lived in 33 Cocklebury. It was for officers or whatever. There was a big pot with smoke up the chimney, and that was the heating system. People were different on the sites. There were a lot of kids there, there were wealthy farmers, well-to-do people. We got the nickname ‘The Squatters’. That was how it was. It wasn’t sad memories, if you know what I mean Ian. I was happy.
On a Friday night this bus, he used to live in one of the Cowtons, he used to come round the sites, delivering fish and chips. He kept his heaters going so the fat was hot as soon as he got there. This lad, I’ll never forget his name, Badey Evans they called him, we were always in a hurry, the first ones. We used to play around waiting for the bus to come. It was an old bus with the curls on it, the old type. “The bus is coming, the fish and chip bus.” We’d all run to get the bell, you see. Whoever got the bell got fish and chips for nothing. You got free fish and chips. One Friday I got my hand on the bell, and this particular lad, he’s this side trying to get it out of my hand.
I brought it down and unfortunately, I plonked him on the head with it! It was more of an accident than anything, but it did happen. He went home holding his head and then, this is a true story, as I was looking for the bell the fish and chip van ran over my foot! The entrance into Cocklebury was tarmac, but on the sides it was all just muddy grass, so fortunately my foot, as the bus went over the top of it, it sunk in. I can remember my sister coming, “something’s happened to our Roly’s foot.”
My dad took off my shoe and it was okay. It was funny really, but I still had hold of that bell, and I got my free fish and chips.
My dad worked very, very hard. He came out the army, worked so hard to get us somewhere decent. I can remember on a morning, when he worked at British Chrome and Chemicals, it was a long way. He bought this Ford 8 car. I can remember on a morning, “howay our Bernie, Roly, come on, give us a push off, this car won’t start again.” Middle of winter, you know, jumping out of bed and him getting back in this Ford 8, we were shoving it off to get it started so he could get to work. As I say, it was a long way to go to work. When we moved to Eaglescliffe for British Chrome and Chemicals he was given a council house near Preston Park. I remember getting the bus with a back flap down, with all the furniture in, and me, Bernie and Eileen were looking over the back as we were pulling away, and felt sad. From there on I went to school at Preston. That’s where it all really started at Preston. We all thought it was fantastic getting this new council house. Obviously, my mother looked after it so well and everybody was very happy.
He never talked about the war. The only thing I ever did know was when he was down at Barry Island and there were Wrens looking after the guns looking up. They were wiped out. A full lot was wiped out, all these WRAFs. He used to go on about that sometimes. The other silly thing that happened to him when he was in the army, when he was down there, he went to see my mam one night and he got caught on his army coat climbing over the fences to go see her. He was stuck there and couldn’t get down. He said he was there for ages. Somebody got him down. But yeah, that’s where he was stationed. He never talked about it much. I think he was annoyed that Winston Churchill had said that there’s gonna be new houses for you war heroes, and there wasn’t.
I’m 73 now, and at my first school, at North Cowton, I’d have been 5 or 6. When we first started going to school, I think I got Miss Cleasby, she was the headmistress of this little school. It’s a lovely little school, and it’s exactly as I remember it all those years ago. The green, and where we used to have the rounders at the front. My brother and sister went there as well. When we came back from school we used to get the bus down to Dalton Gate. The coach used to drop the kids off on a night there. When my mother had just given birth to my youngest brother, Barry. I can remember not getting the bus home from school. She went mad with me, “you get that bus home,” things like that.
There was a German lad there. I can remember his cross braces. My job was to take him to the
toilets because he didn’t speak English or anything. I can remember Christmas time at the school, in your Christmas pudding you got thrupenny bits in plastic paper. Every kid got one of these thrupenny bits. The food was lovely. They cooked it there on the site. It was nice, they were lovely people. We used to do the Christmas pantomimes. I always wanted to be a shepherd so I was good as gold. I was dead pleased about this shepherd. I got this crook, I don’t know what happened to this day, I never touched the end, but the crook came off. The teacher must have been having a bad day. “That’s it, you’re not getting the job now!” I never became a shepherd, I never got the job in the end.
The Post Office was right behind the school. In that Post Office you used to go in there for stamps and I can smell that Post Office to this day. I can remember there was an apple tree with the most beautiful, big round red apple. I looked at it and looked at it, and it was too much for me. “I’m gonna have that apple.” Anyway, so I took this apple off this tree, took it back into school. The bell went so I had to go sit down in class. This apple, I put it underneath my school table. There was a lad there, believe it or not, his name was Billy Appleby, he shopped me to the teacher! Of all the rotten tricks to do, you know? I was just sat there and the teacher came round. “Roland Bullock, come out here, where did you get that apple?” They were bloody strict. So, I was in bother. I thought, what a rotten trick, he was a friend! They took it off me, that was the punishment. I honestly think if the woman who run the Post Office had known she’d have probably said, “for goodness sake, give him it.” But that was your punishment. I’ll never forget that.
At the school at North Cowton there’s a cenotaph with metal spikes right round it. At the bottom of it was concrete. My brother was older than me. The ball had gone inside. He’d leaned over to get the ball out. His foot had slipped off the bottom and a spike had stuck right in here. Gone right in. I remember like it was yesterday. Fortunately, it had just missed a very crucial part. Every time I go, I go every now and again, I put my finger on that.
It wasn’t a lot of money but you got a big bag of potatoes, it wasn’t a lot of money as I say but kids used to walk away after we got our money with half a sack of potatoes when you left the field. They were that heavy and by the time you got them home half of them had been dripped out because you couldn’t carry them.
Every time I would come home with a goldfish. They lasted about a week. The atmosphere at the fair was lovely, but there was a lot of trouble
I can remember they used to put tin toilets up in those days right the way along, and we went down. We were on our own and two gypsy lads, they started fighting. I can remember getting on top of these tin huts and we were watching them fighting and it was barbaric. They were punching each other and knocking each other down and would get up again. A crowd was swirling round them, and I remember the police officers in the crowd never turned, they just let them get on with it. I can remember it vividly, the police officers were just stood there, I think they just let them get on with it.
Then of course, the other times when I’ve been there with me friends and we used to go on the Waltzers. You know it was a lovely time, even to this day I enjoy going to see Yarm Fair. I think it’s fabulous and my grandchildren love it, all the family love it. There was talk of people saying it should be abandoned it’s a nuisance in the High Street, but personally I love it and it goes back a long time.
When I was fourteen, thirteen a friend of me brothers worked as a labourer at Jack Robson’s farm at Aislaby and he said to me one day if you want to give him a hand on a weekend by all means give him a hand. That’s how it all came about, I used to love going up there on a weekend and helping him feed the chickens and driving the tractors and all sorts. I loved it. Then of course I left school and it all stopped there but I really did think about going into the industry of looking after cattle, I loved it I absolutely loved it.
We first came to this house in Egglescliffe about 20 years ago. I was at British Chrome and Chemicals at the time. My grandma and my dad went to the school in Egglescliffe. They had a farm at Aislaby and they used to deliver milk around Yarm.
This house belonged to an old lady. It came up for sale and we always said we would get one in the village. Joy, my wife wanted to live in the village, and when it came up for sale I came round and had a look at it and it was expensive, it was quite expensive. I can’t remember exactly how much. The old lady who lived here had died and I put an offer in thinking, oh it was below the asking price and they didn’t accept it. Anyway, eventually they took my bid and I don’t know if I was pleased or not you know. My wife said isn’t it wonderful, its wonderful but I had just wrapped a mortgage around me neck.
We have loved this house, we still do. It was in a state and me brother was a bricklayer, he’s dead now bless him, and he came and he put the gas in for the central heating. He drilled right the way through here to get the gas because my wife was insisting on a gas fire. He came walking out of the room, and even though all the windows were open, he came out covered in dust. He was winking his eyes and the dust was even falling off his eyelashes. I’ll never forget it.
It must have been at least 17 years since I got an allotment. Joy and I walked over, it was late at night when we found out. I fell in love with it then. It was exactly what I wanted. I mean I love my allotment. We’ve had some laughs over there with Jack Robinson.
You don’t know the half of it. He was like a rep for the allotments. You wouldn’t dare say anything to him, or “You’re off! You’re off! I’ll have you off here,” that was how he used to go on. I think I told you that time when the rabbits were getting in, him and I went right around the border putting new posts in, metal posts with wire netting round to stop the rabbits from getting in. There’s this lad that used to garden halfway down, and I’m walking down with Jack to go put some posts in down the bottom. I’m walking down behind him, and he didn’t care about anybody you know, and this guy always had a brand new car, lovely, lovely car. Jack’s walking in front of me, and I’m walking behind Jack, and this car is halfway down. He’s got this piece of metal with a couple of bolts hanging out, and I’m walking behind him with a wooden one. And I heard, *scraping noise*. And he’d scratched his car! I daren’t say anything to him. I could see the lad who owned it and he never said a word, just shook his head!
Anybody’s kids come in or anything like that, “harrumph! I’ll have ‘em, they won’t come round here!” He was a fiery guy you know. I think I told you, when I went to see him in hospital, and he was dying. I went into the ward, this was two days before he died, he’s sat there, he’s got the television on, you know they pulled round?
It’s going, *static noise*. Couldn’t see or hear a word of it. I said, “Have you put some money in Jack?” He said, “Yeah, it just wants adjusting.” God knows how long he’d had it like that. I messed about with it and I got a picture. Then he said to me, “That’s better. Come round here, open that locker down there, and you’ll find a bottle of Guinness. Get it out and we’ll have a glass apiece.” I mean, he was really ill, and I said, “I don’t know, Jack”. I’m not going to give him it because just my luck he’ll pop his clogs there and then. So, I went and asked the nurse, I said to her, “Jack has asked me if he can have a glass of Guinness.” Oh yes, she said, get what you can down him”, she knew you know. So, I come back, got this Guinness out, and he drank it and enjoyed it.
Some of the things though. I used to look after his gardens for him when he went on holiday. Every year he used to go on his own to Switzerland. He had a cousin in Switzerland and he had a lot of money, this guy. Jack used to go every year for a fortnight. I used to watch his tomatoes and look after his garden for him. This cousin, he had a top of the range sports car. The back of the engine was all open. It was like a Porsche I suppose. Jack told me he used to take him out in this Porsche. They were very close.
Jack said women couldn’t look after an allotment properly. I don’t want to speak ill of him, but that was Jack. People walking past, he used to leave all sorts of stuff on the fence for them. Anything. If they were walking past, have you got any, I don’t know, broad beans Jack? He’d give them some. That was his nature. He was a character.
He used to pick his potatoes really early. Oh yeah. Gob-size. I can remember him saying it to me, got to be gob-size. After that, they don’t taste the same. That’s what he used to do, and he always had them first. First, out. And I have to agree with him, they taste much better when they’re small.
When I was working, I used to finish early, I think it was about half past two. I’d go straight to the allotment, do a bit of work, water it, everything. Well, when I used to have a little motorbike, I used to wear a black helmet and a yellow tunic. Everyone used to say, “You look like a bobby.” I thought, I’ll pop in straight from work and get some watering done, plan it all out. I pulled up on my motorbike next to the gate. And I’m stood there just getting off my motorbike and he thought I was a policeman. He’d been relieving himself. Honestly Ian, he didn’t know what to do! He immediately stood to attention to say, “You have not got me!” So, I said, “all right, Jack,” and took my helmet off. He never said a word about that. Honestly, it was funny.
Other times we had some fun. He used to make tea for everybody. But I’ve never tasted tea like it since. He used to put whisky in it. I’m just trying to remember a few things about him. He used to play his mouth organ. He was good at it. Playing away at his mouth organ when he’d had a couple of pints. Everybody liked it. His nickname at school, when the kids were young, was Snowy, because he’d always had white hair. I don’t know if anybody else has told you that.
He was an excellent gardener. If you couldn’t get to the bottom of something, you’d take it and show him it, he’d have a look and say, oh, that’s so and so. He knew straight away. He was trained as a gardener. He was trained properly. I picked it up off him. If he taught me something I knew it was right. Same with that grapevine of mine, I’ve had some fantastic grapes off it. He told me, said, “When I was an apprentice, I spent my time taking all that off,” and if you notice that old wood on a grapevine has all got to be stripped back. Pulled back, otherwise you get bugs inside it.
I can’t remember anybody I would go to for advice other than Jack. You know you get white rot on your onions? And it’s a swine to get rid of. He told me once there’s one way round it. He said copper sulphate. He said when you put your sets in, pour this copper sulphate round the set so it runs down. That stops the white rot. I can’t remember ever getting away with it. I remember trying it and it did stop it. White rot’s a nuisance.
A couple of years I won the best kept allotment and I think it was down to Jack. Because everybody used to go to him for advice.