The effect of the war, which was supposed to be over in a few weeks, soon became apparent. Food was scarce. We children had to go to the Baptist Chapel in Oakengates, top of Slaney Street, at about 7.45 - 8.00 a.m. for bread and jam and tea, then away to school. People formed large queues to obtain their butter or margarine allowance which was very small. It was interesting to watch the assistants patting the butter or margarine into little packs. Of course, nothing was pre-packed in those days. Nearly everything you bought in the food line had to be packed and weighed by hand, including twist and flake tobacco.

The chapel in Oakengates, to which I went every Sunday night was packed. Always the closing hymn was "Eternal Father Strong to Save". Sometimes nearby was the Recruiting Officer calling young men to volunteer for the Army. The effect on the children of my day was to make us go about in little gangs acting out such scenes from the war as we had gathered from the soldiers taking. Stone throwing became one of the pastimes. Boys from Snedshill would throw stones down at the boys who had made dug-outs and trenches just behind Wrights Building (Monkey Ruck). Just off Snedshill on the Hydraulic Bank, (Clay Pit) a horse was hit in the eye and had to be destroyed. There was a police prosecution at Shifnal and two of the eldest boys were held responsible; that incident just about stopped the stone throwing.

The first aeroplane to be seen in this area was a small one. When I saw it, it was in a little field at the beginning of the drive which led to Priorslee Hall. In those days there was a small bungalow type of building or lodge there. The second aeroplane I went to see was in a meadow on the right-hand side of Knowles Bank going to Shifnal. To watch the propeller being swung and the pilot answering "Contact" was a real thrill to us kids.

Now the war casualties began to increase and many parents had sons killed or missing, as were some fathers of families. The conversations we children heard but did not understand were grim. It was said that if the Germans won we little lads would become staves or killed. Then slowly there came another development German prisoners. They were put to work under armed guards breaking stones, at the Priorslee Furnace, Cinder Hill - a huge mound of slag which had come out of the furnace. To get a glimpse of Germans was a thrill. Up to then they didn't seem to be ordinary people that our armies were fighting. You could glimpse them from a distance of about 100 yds, with red or yellow patches on their backs, and to see the guards with their rifles and bayonets fixed was better than watching Cowboys and Indians.

One of the bits of food which helped some of our families out was horse flesh. The horse slaughterer at the time was a man named Cakebread. It was a very busy job indeed. He was afterwards replaced by a man named Goddard. His children used to supply some of us with choice pieces of approved horse flesh. Rats infested the place and spread out pretty well all over our district. The school offered a penny for each rat's tail. I dreaded the things, for down the Bone Mill as we called it, they could be seen in dozens, but they would soon disappear into their holes.

Another feature of the war became the term war babies. While I did not understand all what was happening, certain young unmarried girls had babies. Five were born in our little area. ltbecamea common occurrence, as I was to discover later on.

My days at school, both at St. Georges Infants and Ketley Bank were most happy ones. The teachers I revere to this day. Their discipline was strong but very kind. This proved a blessing for many of us boys were influenced by the pictures, the Picture House being over the Old Town Hall. Many of the scenes we saw we endeavoured to act, such as kidnapping some little girls, putting them in an empty house in Mumpton Hill and thinking this clever. However, someone found them and our plea was - well we had seen it done on the Pictures. Our wise teachers seemed to understand and led us along more worthy paths - clean bodies, purity of mind and a nobility of spirit.

One of the happy times for us boys was to be allowed to ride on the back of a horse, when it was being taken to the Blacksmith to be shod with a new set of shoes. The Blacksmith's shop was situated just past the Priorslee Coal Wharf (now a big island) on the opposite side. I believe it belonged to Les who owned the nearby farm. It was a lovely sight watching the smith make the shoes. Sometimes we would help to pump the bellows to make the fire burn brighter. Then the clanging of the hammer on the anvil as, with great skill, the red hot iron was shaped to fit the horse's hoofs. That was the climax, when the Smithy put the horse's hoof between his legs, clearing all debris out of the frog, fixing the shoe and then with long nails with big oblong heads, fastening it securely to the hoof. It was not only a grand sight, the smell of the burning hoofs was something so different from anything else.

THE PEACE

It was along the Shifnal road where I and other boys celebrated the sounding of hooters which meant the war was over. It was 11 a.m. Our mission that morning was to get some swedes to eat, but people were in the field loading them into the carts so we had no chance to "scrog" any. However, we followed a cart, hoping some would fall off. Our luck was in - the hooters sounded and the driver gave us the freedom to take away as many as we could carry.

In the houses and pubs there was jubilation - people dancing and singing in the streets and in the yards fronting the rows of houses.

By this time I had noticed an odd contraption called a "motor". As the years went by, I developed the hobby of sitting by the roadside for hours collecting car numbers. The first charabang (bus) that I saw was outside the Greyhound just after the end of the war.

Gypsy caravans were a familiar sight, a little wooden house on wheels. They travelled in little groups and camped on the roadside, but not for long periods. Scissor grinding and knife sharpening added to the assortment of pedlars who came round the house. The grinders' equipment was a kind of wooden box-like structure on two wheels, with two long handles. Then there was a treadle device which when pedalled with the feet drove two grinding wheels on which the sharpening was carried out.

A funeral was always a sad occasion. If a person died you could be sure that there was always someone who carried out the task of laying out the body and the washing of it, preparing it for the undertaker. Some women made this their right to lay any deceased person out. They were most respected, as most lad ics of the house a lways kept a clea n pair of sheets ready for such an occasion. The dead body was kept in the house until the day of disposal. When placed in the coffin it would be put on two chairs (one at each end) outside. Hymns were sung, then the cortege would move off, led by the 4 or 6 bearers, followed by the hearse. The mourners would then come trailing behind. The approach of the cortege to the church would be preceded by the single clang of the church bell at about 1 minutes intervals.

Nearby on Owens Field, now under the new road and bus shelter (Stafford Road) the Annual Wakes were held. What an event - coconut shies, roundabouts, boxers, hoopla stalls, freak animals, sometimes a fat man or woman, the place was always crowded especially on Saturday and Wake Monday. But oh how the girls were tormented with "Lady Teasers" - a lead tubefilled with water, take off the screw cap and then squirt waterdown the girls'necks. The throwing of confetti over girls was another way of enhancing their charm. There was for a time a travelling theatre on Owens Field. Being friendly with a child who was the owners daughter, we would go straight from our Infants School and wander all over what seemed to me a huge place of mystery. It was only a make-shift affair.

The horse slaughter's cart was a very common sight, a flat kind of wagon on which the dead animal would be stretched out. Accidents to horses were fairly common; the worst 1 saw was a horse failing down over the level crossing on the line which served the brickworks. Before the animal could be got on his feet a shunter had released some trucks and one of these ploughed into the poor creature. In the same narrow space, between the wall of the brickworks loading bay and the brick wall near the A5 road a shunter was killed trying to couple some trucks with his pole. It got wedged and pulled him against the wall and crushed him. One gentleman had the name of "Botherhoss", because when told that one of his horses had fallen down he accused his informer of pushing him down. This little joke went around the whole district:

"Mr. Your hoss as fallen down - You're a liar you'n pushed 'im down".

Tall chimney stacks dominated the district where I lived. The Snedshill Forge had two very tall ones and several others of various heights. Priorslee Furnace also had three very tallones and smaller ones while Snedshill Brickworks had many small ones from which belched smoke night and day. What with this and smoke from the locomotives, it was a grimy place. Maddocks Foundry also had several which added to the smurk.

Policemen on their beat was always an assuring sight. Many were known by their Christian names - some by a nickname, not out of malice, but of good nature. They was certainly a deterent to any of us children. At least 3 boys a little older than me were sent to a reformatory; in the main though there was plenty of mischief but little serious crime amongst us. The "baby hunter" was another personality who was greatly respected, he certainly kept many of us at school very regularly - we didn't want him coming to our homes.

The Lilleshall Company employed a watchman, particularly at night to supervise their property including the trucks in the various wharfs and sidings. He was to me an austere figure and always carried a walkinr stick - one threat with that and we were off. Round the coal wagons was a popular place when playing hide and seek. He wasn't always successful in stopping coal being pinched out of the trucks at the bottom of Wrights Buildings. It was a clever ruse to see him disappear down the line, then the race was on. To be caught was not a crime, it was just a misfortune and very few were ever summoned, it was so neatly performed. The lad and his lass so typical of every age in my early years were no exception, for to see couples embracing standing by the railway wagons and to disturb them in some sequestered spot when birds nesting was to be accused by them of dogging (that meant following and watching them). I didn't understand it. Seeking a nest under some thick elder bush or even amid the gorse bushes was our right. Trespassing maybe, but only old Briar Shepherd who owned this particular piece of land had the authority to tell us to clear off.

The burning down of 'Corfields Grocery Shop (situated by the brickworks) was quite a sensation. Nobody seemed to know the reason for this fire. The fire-engine was drawn by two horses, and came from Wellington as there was no fire station at Oakengates. To watch the firemen with their long hoses was thrilling as the great jets of water were directed onto the smouldering remains. I was 9 years old at the time. The firemen were certainly an asset to the community. This was the first time 1 had ever seen a big fire attended to by them. It was, however, to be a happy hunting ground for us children, for enacting scenes which we had heard soldiers talking about - trenches with dug outs and secrets tunnels. These we dug out on the nearby pit mounds and anything we could find in the burned out building we used to shore up the roof and walls of our tunnel and dug outs.

Men playing cards for money were always in evidence and there were many holes amid the pit banks. A "look out" was put in some place to look for police or unwanted interference who could give a warning in time to allow them to disperse. Some men were known to have lost their wages in this mania of gambling.

Copyright:  Estate of  Moses Evans