LOOKING at Norton's own newspaper, the Norton Chronicle, for this month in 1890, I see that Welham Cricket Club were having an evening sports event in the form of a one-mile and a two-mile bicycle race, the first event having no less than 28 entries, and the latter 25.

Both events were won by W H Smith of Malton, whilst W Wainhouse of York and G R Noble of Scarborough featured in the first three, and Thos Kay, also of York, was amongst the winners of both races. I mentioned the names because there's just a chance that descendants of these sportsmen may well still be hereabouts.

Meanwhile, Malton Show is advertised for next month, August, and already has an entry of over 500 horses, "which apart from the County Show is what no other can boast of". Those were the days when the horse was king.

A little note in the edition for July 8, 1881 says: "Norton is not to be lighted by electricity just yet. No doubt electric light will come; even to Norton".

The fury over the massive pay rise which the PM gave himself and ministers seems to have died down. But the PM's £3,000 per week, and the Ministers with £2,200 plus, of course, free transport and cars, free lunches, free telephones and free London homes, subsidised lunches etc, seems out of this world, especially when compared to a pensioner on £72 a week, yet it all dwarfs into insignificance when compared to the millions paid to those who kick a ball around. Our sense of values today is out of all proportion, and comparing one 'trade' against another just doesn't make sense, for whilst a police sergeant can make £550 a week and sleeps in his own bed, a soldier, who puts his life on the line, only cashes in at just over £200 a week, and mostly sees little of home life. I wonder how it all came about, but then I expect there were always inequalities.

And talking of soldiers, I had a call today from Major John Russell of Low Hutton, which sparked off for me a whole host of memories, for round about now in 1939 we were leaving for summer camp at Malton, not far from Morecambe Bay. The first time many of us Territorials had left home, and little realising that in a few short months we should be leaving for longer still with the outbreak of war, and many, sadly left home for the very last time.

John told me that his birthday at June-end brought him up to 91 years of age which took some believing, for my early memories of him were as a young lieutenant and I a young 17-year-old private and it is most unlikely that it every crossed our minds that we should still be talking together over 60 years later.

Our CO in those days before, and at the start of war, was Major Freddie Chadwick of Pickering, who was a friend to everyone. Looking back on our pre-war mobilisation, it was a very civilised affair really, with everyone knowing everyone else, and all from Ryedale, so we all sort of drifted into the military route together, which made it much easier than perhaps conscripted folks experienced. Our first experience of carrying arms, with 'one up the spout' as local lads would described having cocked their file, was when we were sent to guard the Chain Home Radar Station on Staxon Brow. Here, we would trudge around the fields and lanes surrounding the station, suitably swathed in as many clothes as we could get on to keep out the cold from our bleak environment on that high hill top, with the snow underfoot and the wind howling. Some of us would climb 240 feet up the steel radar towers and keep watch from there - dryer on the feet, but I suspect rather colder. And here, John, for ever caring of the young lads (for that's what most of us were) in his care would set out from indoors, a bottle of hot whisky under his greatcoat, and he would walk round those lonely paths on his own, awaiting a challenge out of the darkness, "Halt, who goes there?" and stopping so that each one could have a swig to combat the cold. A welcome intruder without doubt, and the first time most of us had ever tasted whisky.

I was the youngest Territorial to be called up from Malton, Norton, and the various towns in Ryedale which made up the 5th Bn Green Howards. I often wonder just how many are left out of those first volunteers, who would all be older than I, and I expect we're getting a bit thin on the ground now, but, whoever they may be, I'm sure they'll join with me in saying "thank you" to Major John for his thoughtfulness, and comradeship, and wishing him a very happy 91st year.

Just a thought. "War is nothing more than the continuation of politics by other means (Karl Von Clausewitz. 1780-1831) Prussian soldier.

Updated: 11:23 Thursday, July 05, 2001