Letter tells of Eden Camp memories

A letter from Clive Inman, of Norton, raises an interesting question for he has a memory that the large building was the home of the British Legion before their removal to the Drill Hall.

Although he introduces the name of the Pioneer Club, but then that, surely was in Spital Street, which became a British restaurant, looked after by Mrs Stancliffe, where an excellent and reasonably priced meal could be had.

I often went there when I was at the town hall. This would be in the post-war era, I expect.

The British Legion became a hospital prior to our cottage hospital being built.

My mum told me that she was Malton’s first patient to have her appendix removed there.

Clive tells me that his father attended Greengate School and that children walking to and fro along the unnamed path, could look through some low windows and watch the medical activities in its hospital days.

He did me a delightful cartoon of this, and having seen his previous examples I think he ought to have progressed this, as his results are certainly of a professional kind, and a local cartoonist would be much welcomed, I’m sure. Thanks Clive for an interesting letter.

• Another letter passed to me by Nick Hill, of Eden Camp. Another one full of memories, from Joan Padkin who, in 1952, took advantage of an offer to ‘lend a hand on the land’, and go to a holiday camp in Yorkshire.

She lived in Blackburn, where conversely I have some wartime memories, and she and 12 of her schoolmates, each with their bikes, boarded a train and were brought to their ‘holiday’ camp.

Eden Camp, it turned out to be, still surrounded by barbed wire, and in Hut 2, these lasses were located, having been issued with three ‘biscuits’ (mattresses) to fit the iron bedsteads, a metal cupboard, a pillow and blanket.

It seems the Italian prisoners had departed, for another hut nearby was occupied by some French students.

Daily ‘orders’ were issued, mostly potato picking on local farms, after being wakened at 06.00 by a hand bell.

They boarded a truck after breakfast, and armed with a packed lunch, were taken to whichever farm they had been allocated, where they spent the whole day.

Spending three weeks there, she tells us that there was still a large number of ex-POWs there who hadn’t wanted to go back to their own country.

She was told they were Russian, although I can only recall the Italians being there and seeing them marching down Old Maltongate at a time when I happened to be on leave during the war.

I seem to think they were going to Norton Baths. Not being at home during the war years, I haven’t any memories of wartime Malton, but I do recall being told that the barbed wire fencing, along the lane at the side had an ‘entrance’ where the wire could be separated for access in and out, and where local lasses would make their way inside during the Italian ‘occupation’. Well, after all, there wasn’t many local lads in the town at that time.

I recall the POWs built a delightful miniature church, about five or six feet long at one of the pathway junctions, which survived for many years after the war, but is now long gone.

•  I’ve read with some amazement at the antics of the MP Mr Mitchell, and the police on duty in Downing Street. A passing (or perhaps nonpassing) incident when the MP asked one to open the gate for him to get through with his bike to Number 9.

It seems he was refused access and told to use a side gate. I wonder if it really mattered. Stories, depending on which paper you read, seem to vary and there is mention of strong language, and use of the expression ‘pleb’, which I have to admit I hadn’t heard before.

This is, of course, a shortening of the world ‘plebian’ being one of a lower social order. Now I wonder just when and where this utterance cropped up, unless it’s a common expression down south, then, I wonder if the PC knew what it meant, and if Mitchell actually used this word.

Why the gate couldn’t have been just pulled ajar so he could get through I don’t know. Sounds like a whole load of rubbish to me, but then instructions might have been strict, and, well you make your own minds up on this one.

• It’s all right being critical of other drivers, but one must sometimes look at oneself.

I had parked at the kerb prior to getting out to go to a shop, looked behind, nothing coming, so opened the door partly, when a car came up alongside which I hadn’t seen earlier, which stopped.

It was clear of my half-opened door, so all was well and I mouthed an apology. It may have been parked at the kerbside when I looked which could have been why I hadn’t spotted it, but a lesson has been learnt to be sure of one’s first backwards glance.

A race to the lights is one of Wheelgate’s problems, although, on the whole, the town traffic copes exceptionally well, and I marvel at how today’s artics manage to cope with the tightness of Butcher Corner.

• I read that Ryedale District Council is a supporter in the resurrection of unwanted household items so that they get a second lease of life.

The recycling officer confirms that re-use is a much better option than destruction. Lots of us have been saying this for years, as the crunching/crushing machine was introduced to reduce many a useful item to scrap.

The display we used to have, where one could buy just the item one was looking for, disappeared which was bad policy, and one which would be welcomed back.

• Newspaper headline: “If strike isn’t settled quickly, it may last a while.”