STREETLY,
STAFFORDSHIRE MEMORIES
(1936
- 1961)
A WALK UP
THE CHESTER ROAD (August 1944)
4.
On Along The Chester Road and Chester
Road Traffic
by Chris Myers
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4.
On Along The Chester Road - and Chester Road Traffic
- and Further On Up The Hill
We’ll walk on a few yards. It's there that I
can remember being driven past, looking out of the
car window over the grass verge. It must have been
the summer of 1940. Four years ago now. Piled up on
it was a great mound of old cars and other bits of
machinery and scrap metal and rubbish. I think it was going to be
used as a roadblock if the Germans came. They were
going to shove it all across the road to stop the
tanks and other things. How long it would have
stopped a Panzer tank for, I don't know, but they
had to try. Of course it was never needed and by now
it has all been cleared up, taken away and probably
forgotten about by everyone except me.
On our
side of the road there are a couple of houses quite
close together. I think somebody called Mrs Ashmore
lives in one of them. I have the feeling that my
elder sister used to have piano lessons from her. Before you
get to those houses, and for a long time afterwards
as you start to climb the hill, there is nothing,
just the odd field stretching back to the gardens
of Thornhill Road. On the other side it is all open
fields.
We'll pause here, just a few moments.
I'm going to tell you a bit about the traffic before
we walk any further.
Chester Road Traffic
Today is normal, mainly lorries and things. Very few
cars and all the vehicles have mudguards and other
bits painted white at the edge. They all still have
their blackout masks over their headlamps. Even
though very few German planes come over now, we
still have the blackout.
This is what I call normal traffic. Sorry
the pictures are a bit fuzzy. They are all taken up the
road, near Cutler's Garage, next door to the
Hardwick Arms. You can see the lorries and cars in
the background of some and those were taken in the
winter of 1940/41 when a squad of Home Guard blokes
were building an air raid shelter one weekend. My
brother's there, somewhere, and possibly my dad.
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This one's
a bit more recent, probably last summer or
the year before. Taken from near Cutler's
petrol pumps. The air raid shelter is
part of the landscape now. It's not been
used recently. |
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A lot of cars are laid
up. The ones that are on the road are owned by
people who have got a petrol ration. Dad has one of
those because of his job and also because of his
Home Guard duties. We are very lucky although he has
to be careful how he uses the car and doesn't break
the rules. I have a friend in Talbot Avenue whose
name is Clive Smith. His dad's car is laid up in the
garage, raised up on bricks. Like a lot of others.
But in their spare bedroom are all the bits which
his dad could easily take off it. The doors, the
headlamps, the bumpers. I think probably the wheels
as well. I suppose they all stay warm and dry there
and don't go rusty. And it will all be put back
together again when peace comes. But that's why at the
moment there aren't very many cars on the roads.
Here's a couple, outside the Parish Room
in Foley Road, just down from All Saints Church, probably
in the winter of 1940/41. You can see the masks and
the white paint on the edges of the mudwings. I
wonder who the men are and what they are talking
about. Perhaps one of them is the owner of the car
which is parked.
(You are probably asking - why do
the cars only have a mask on ONE headlamp? It's
because when the headlights are dipped, on cars,
today, just the one
headlamp shines at the kerb. The other one which
points straight ahead goes out. And so all the cars now run all
the time on dipped headlights, just the one with the
mask. I expect the other
headlamp is disconnected or the bulb has been taken
out so that it can't be switched on by accident.
Dad's is like that. It has a secret switch too,
under the dashboard, so
that when there was a danger of German paratroopers
pinching it, they wouldn't have known how to start
it. I'm not allowed to touch anything under there).
But back to the Chester Road traffic. It's
all the other stuff which you
don't see all the time, not just the ordinary
lorries and cars, which really interests me.
Possibly just once or twice in a day. Or even less
often. Like the regular appearance of an RAF or
Royal Navy sixty-footer, usually laden with aircraft
pieces, like a fuselage or wings. Sometimes
brand-new but, more often than not, twisted and
scraped and bashed about.
There are constant
Army convoys, trundling along, one after the other,
vehicle after vehicle. And so slowly. The last long
car journey I remember was in May 1940. To Blackpool for
the weekend. (That's another story. I'll tell you
about it some time). I think it was to try
out the new Ford Prefect. Petrol was easier then. I
don't think it was rationed. We got stuck in the
middle of one of those convoys. Mile after mile.
Crawling along at about 15 m.p.h. A lot of the time
I could have got out and run faster. Dad was very
frustrated. We knew all about these things and we
groaned when we came up to the back of this one.
There is nothing at all you can do.
Of course a
lot of the traffic is to do with the war. Not just
lorries. But Bren gun carriers, for example. Dad
says a lot of these are made in Birmingham. Funny
things, those, you can hear every chain and cog and
tread going round and round as they clatter past
you, all whirring. They sound like huge, clockwork
toys. Like my Hornby. And, noisiest of all, huge
tanks. They make all those noises as well but a lot
is drowned out by the roar they make. It takes your
breath away if you are standing on the pavement as
they go by. And after they've gone you can see how
the road surface has been scraped. Especially if
they have been making some sort of turn.
We are lucky. I can show the second of two
of these huge things, just disappearing down the
road. Again it's a fuzzy picture, I'm afraid, but
it's something to have anything at all. Here they
are, roaring past Cutler's Garage. I can almost hear
the noise and the clatter. I don't know when this
was taken. Or where they had come from and where
they were going.
I'll tell you a bit more about
the traffic when we get to the top of the hill. But
it's time we got on as otherwise we'll never get
home.
And so further on up the hill
On up the hill. About halfway up, on our side of the
road, there are some trees, almost like a little
wood. In it there is a house. A family called
Brittuce live there. I’m always surprised when I
think about this. Because they are German. Or at
least they have a German name.
What on earth are
they doing living there? I know that all Germans are
horrid and every single one of them just wants to
kill me. For as long as I can remember, we have been
fighting them in the war. Now, right near to my
home, live a family of them. I am surprised as well
that Mum, who thinks Germans are horrid, just like I
do, never says anything nasty about them. Nor does
anyone else. Not even Dad. He was in the last war
and was wounded in France and so he has good reason
not to like them. Dad got sent home when he was
wounded. They called it "getting a Blighty". It
probably saved his life because it got him out of
danger and he's perfectly all right
now. That happened twenty-six years ago. To me, that
seems a long, long time in the past. Even before my big
brother was born. But I bet it doesn't to him. And to
really old people it must seem just like the day
before yesterday.
I don’t know this family at
all but they seem to be getting on with their life
just like the rest of us. What I never knew before
is that their real name is spelt Britzius. Despite
everyone pronouncing it to rhyme with "juice".
I think they must be nice people, even though they
are German.
Perhaps that teaches me something.
And I wonder how they feel, living in the middle of
the enemy.
Opposite their house, the fields have
stopped. Going off at an angle to the left is a very
interesting, leafy little cart track and there’s a
farm building of some sort in the angle. It’s very
broken down and certainly nobody lives in it. I
don’t think they ever have done. Perhaps it's always
been just a farm building. I've never looked in it
and so I don't know if there is anything inside.
What I know about this little track is that it leads
off to a wood which lies behind all the houses on
that side of the road. The ones we are going to see
in a minute as we walk further up the hill. It’s a
jolly interesting place. I’ve only been there once
or twice but the wood is full of birch trees and in
amongst them are all sorts of ditches and things
which look just like army trenches. It makes you
wonder what used to happen there. And if you carry
on walking through the wood, eventually you will
pass The Camp. This is a whole lot of wooden
buildings. It looks just like an Army camp and so I
suppose that's how it got its name. But there are no
soldiers. I think that children are given a holiday
there. They are the ones who normally live in the
middle of Birmingham and can’t often see green trees
and breathe in fresh air. I really don't know
whether they still come here, in wartime. I hope
they do. It must be a nice change for them when they
probably don't have gardens to play in where they
live. And they've had all the bombing. Then, a bit further on, after you leave
the buildings behind you, you come out into Bridle
Lane. Turn left to go up to Barr Beacon. Or right to
go back to the Chester Road.
But back to our stretch of the Chester Road.
This family
and local history
page is hosted by
www.staffshomeguard.co.uk
(The Home Guard of Great Britain, 1940-1944)
Please see INDEX page for
general acknowledgements; but specific, grateful
acknowledgement to the owner of the traffic images
on this page, Kate Cutler.
All text and images are,
unless otherwise stated, © The Myers Family 2022
Traffic images
© Kate Cutler 2022
INDEX
Home Guard of
Great Britain website |
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INDEX
Streetly and Family Memories 1936-61
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L8D
April 2022