My Life and Times as a BBC Engineer 1942-1945 Part 5

This story was submitted to the People’s War site by Roger Marsh of the ‘Action Desk — Sheffield’ Team on behalf of Dennis Faulkner and has been added to the site with the author’s permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

CHAPTER 7. OUR LIVING ACCOMMODATION AT `GREAT OAKS'
We had to live somewhere. The BBC had earlier requisitioned a large two- storey country house called `Great Oaks' which was situated at a cross roads called `Cray's Pond'. The road to the south led to Pangboume, about two miles away. The road to the west led to Goring-on-Thames, also about two miles away. About a mile and a half north was the village of Woodcote. We understood that the house was the home of the chairman of a well-known sauce manufacturer who had had to leave it with all its furnishings etc. intact. There were two driveways. The main one, from the Pangbourne Road, was not used other than as a footpath. The second was `the service drive' which came to the rear of the house from Cray's Pond. Here, there was a large stable block, which had been converted into dormitories, bathrooms etc. All the males from Tatsfield, (apart from the EiC, SME's etc, who were billeted in and around Henley-on-Thames), slept here. Each shift had its own area in order that there would be little, or no disturbance to those sleeping during the day. For all other purposes we used the rear driveway to the house where we spent our off-duty time. We ate in the dining room in `shifts' at different times to suit our working pattern. Interestingly, along one side of the dining room was a long table upon which dozens of small saucers were arranged. Each one contained one person's weekly butter ration and was labelled with each individual's name. Such was the trust we each had for each other, that no one had any fear of his ration being used by anyone else.

Our `ladies' slept upstairs along with a large number of others who were employed at the Caversham Monitoring Station. These were nearly all typists and stenographers as well as secretaries. Many of these worked shifts too, in order to prepare the Monitoring Service Report, which was despatched to the government in London early each morning, by courier.
At any one time there were not all that many people around, due to the shift system, there was however, a lot of 'coming and going'!

The grounds were considerable, having a beautiful sunken rose-garden with arbours and seating, two full-size tennis courts, a nine-hole golf course, and, most wonderful, a large oval shaped swimming pool complete with changing rooms. The Corporation had obtained permission to fill the pool. The summer of 1944 was hot, and we were therefore able to spend many happy hours there.

Inside, there was a large lounge with a `minstrel's gallery' on which was the most modem autochanger gramophone manufactured by `Dynatron', noted for their quality. Esme Miller and I put on a classical music evening once per week, shifts permitting. On another evening the jazz fans had their turn. A small lounge had a large sofa, deep comfortable armchairs and a lovely fireplace, a sort of `snug', with a door to the patio. Upstairs was a games room with a full size snooker table and all the necessary equipment. We really were spoiled for choice and comfort. It was marvellous living there. Everyone respected the fact that they were living in someone else's house, and treated it accordingly.

As the weather was so good, some of us also went for walks down the lanes, especially to Goring, where we would indulge in some liquid refreshment at one of the hostelries! At Cray's Pond was our `local', only yards from our `stables'! Strange that we slept in the stables, when the horses were outside!

Life and work proceeded along its pre-determined path, with no trials or tribulations. Whist we were aware of the massive conflict taking place in Europe, and were fully informed, ours was a peaceful and almost idyllic life. Some felt a sense of opprobrium.

CHAPTER 8. A VERY STRANGE AFFAIR.
On Friday 21st July, my shift was on `nights'. We left `Great Oaks' in the BBC transport as usual, and travelled to Crowsley Park. As we stopped at the stable block, in order to carry out the routine testing of the diesel generator, an elderly man, who stated that he was a retainer for the family, approached us. He told us that one of the `gentlemen' in the house was very ill, and requested us not to test the generator, due to the noise. I should point out that the night was hot and balmy. Sound travelled well in these conditions, and could be heard from miles away. There was a brief discussion and it was agreed not to test the generator. When we arrived at the station, we reported this to our SME and he could make the final decision. He acceded and no test was made.

By this period in the war, when the threat of direct air attack from the Luftwaffe had receded to almost zero, the government had reduced the total 'black-out' to what was known as a `dim out'. This allowed some diffused light to be shown, such as through curtains. Inside the station, it was very warm, and all the windows were wide open, with curtains drawn. We took over from the evening shift who then departed back to `Great Oaks'. Our shift carried on as normal.

On night shifts, we all had the chance of a break about 2.00am. This was due to the fact that most networks closed down for some hours during the night. Only those on frequency measurement had to have a relief. The first couple of engineers, whose networks closed down, had the extra duty of going across the park to the manor house, to our canteen. Here, the kitchen staff had left a meal prepared for the night shift. It required only to be heated and when ready, a telephone call to the SME brought the gang over for their food.

This particular night, now early on Saturday morning, it was the turn of Dave and me to go. It was very dark, warm, even hot, and still. One could hear sounds of trains passing through Reading, and other night sounds from far away. We had to walk some 400yards. When we were about halfway, we heard the sound of some dogs barking from the Harpsden side of the park, far off. The sounds grew louder and nearer and nearer. It was now the sound of a large pack of hounds in full cry! We felt terrified, shivers went up our necks and we took to our heels and ran, as though for our lives, until we reached the canteen door, opened it in haste, went inside and slammed the door shut! The hounds continued their hue and cry and passed by the door and carried on down the drive towards the kennels, until we could hear them no more. We were both severely shaken by this event in the middle of the night. Where did they come from, and where did they go? We composed ourselves, did what we had come for, and sent for our colleagues. When they arrived, we must have been white faced, for they asked us if we were alright. Explaining what had happened, none of them believed us. They had heard nothing! However, remember that they would have been wearing headphones. Even so, we would have expected some of them to have heard, especially as all the windows were open! So the night shift passed, we went back to our beds and no more was said about our experience.

The following evening, as we approached the stable block, the old retainer came to the vehicle again. This time he thanked us for not testing the generator the evening before. He told us that Mr. Geoffrey Baskerville had died at 2.10am in the morning! Dave and I gasped, this was the time we had heard the hounds, and told him so. His remark, "So you heard them did you?" amazed all of us. When questioned, he said, "I will tell you a story".

This is it:
"It appears that many years ago, an engagement party for the eldest son of the family and his fiance was taking place in the mansion. It is just possible that this was to be a marriage of convenience, because it transpired that the young lady did not want this marriage, and was in fact in love with the younger son. During the party the young lovers decided to elope. They quietly left the party, mounted a horse, and rode off into the park to the far side, intending to escape through a minor exit. However, their disappearance was soon noticed. The head of the family ordered that the hounds should be given the scent of the son and released in order to track them. This was quickly done, and followed by a posse of riders, all in full cry, set off in pursuit of the hapless couple.

It was not long before the hounds overtook the couple, felled them, and set about the younger son, tearing him to pieces by the time the followers had reached them. The father was so distraught, and so remorseful that he ordered that all the hounds should be immediately destroyed.

Since that time, whenever a Baskerville dies, the ghosts of those hounds run through the park in full cry!

Thus ended his story. Be it fact or fiction we do not know. What Dave and I know is, that he and I did hear them!

South Oxfordshire doesn't look much like Exmoor, but it is more than likely that it is here that Arthur Conan Doyle got the idea for "The Hounds of the Baskervilles."

The manor was at the time in the hands of a certain Colonel Baskerville, who had hounds on his family crest, hence the grim gateposts.

Apparently Conan Doyle lived for a while on a neighbouring farm, and not getting on too well with the colonel, could not resist the temptation of notoriously immortalising him.
Baskerville, it is said, was not amused and got decidedly irked at being repeatedly greeted with "Hallo, Baskerville, how are your hounds?"

Life at Crowsley Park and `Great Oaks' continued until the beginning of November 1944, when we were informed that we would all be moved back to Tatsfield.

CHAPTER 9. THE LAST DAYS.
So it was that on 6th November, I was again in the vanguard of a move, this time in the reverse direction, back to our own station at Tatsfield. This again was accomplished over a week. We were now back as though we had never been away. The routine of life and shift work carried on as before. The terror of the Vergeltungswaffe Eins (V1 Flying Bomb) was now over. There was however a newer, and in a way more deadly one. On the 8th September 1944 the enemy launched the first of over 500 V2 weapons to fall in the London area. One that fell at New Cross killed 160 people. These were large high altitude rockets with a one-ton high explosive warhead that detonated on impact. The whole thing was 46 feet long, with a max. diameter of 5ft.5ins. It weighed 12.8 tons at launch. It travelled at over 3000 m.p.h. reaching a height of 60 miles. There was no warning of the approach, as the engine was no longer running on descent. They created massively deep holes. These weapons continued to be launched at London until the last one fell on Orpington on the 27th March 1945, only a few weeks before VE Day on the 8th May 1945.

On the 9th November 1944 I was promoted to TAI and my wage was increased to £4.10.Od (£4.50) plus 14/- (70p) in allowances. This grade was just one below becoming an ME, with establishment as a permanent employee.

No sooner had this happened, that I received notification from the Ministry of Labour that I would be "called up" on January 6th 1945 for National Service. This was in fact two months before my `Reserved Occupation' ended on my birthday at the end of February. The bigger shock was that I was to be drafted as a "Bevin Boy" into the coalmines! The name "Bevin Boy" was taken from the name of the Minister of Labour in the Government at the time. It was a panic move due to the fact that all miners of military age had been `called up' and now there was a serious shortage of coal! Bevin had decided that each month every tenth name on the 'Call Up' list would be diverted from the armed forces into the coal mines whatever his occupation. It seemed to me that the better way would have been to demobilise the miners and return them to their pits.

The BBC Engineering Establishment Officer advised me to appeal against this decision on the grounds that, I was
1), a skilled wireless engineer with the BBC, on specialised work at their receiving and measuring station, involving the use of delicate and very accurate equipment, used for measuring carrier frequency, field strength and direction finding.
2), The information obtained as a result of this work, concerning the activities, powers and wavelengths and positions of world broadcasting stations (including enemy stations) has been of value to the war effort.
3), Such being the case, my skill could be better employed in the National Interest on similar work, rather than on any other work unconnected with wireless.

It was thus that I attended a Tribunal in Croydon. The chairman was an elderly man, as were his two companions, one of whom was female. No one else was present. I was asked to state my case for the appeal. A written one had already been submitted. It was therefore a reiteration of that, as above. At the end of this, and with little or no hesitation, the chairman stated that my appeal had not been allowed, and that I would therefore be required to report for duty as a "Bevin Boy"!!

I was quite certain that it would have been upheld, and that I would then be drafted to join the army, as I had requested.

The tribunal ended, and we all proceeded to leave. As we did so, I enquired from the chairman why, with all my evidence, they had reached this decision? His answer was amazing, "It's more than I dare do, to uphold an appeal!!" My response was to enquire why we went through this charade, to be told, "THAT WE LIVE IN A DEMOCRACY!!!"

I spent my last Christmas on evening shift, after a sort of celebration drink with some of my colleagues in some local hostelries in Croydon. It was a far from happy time for me, filled with foreboding. I packed those belongings I needed to take with me, to a hostel near Pontypridd in South Wales. The rest I packed into a large parcel, to be sent to my home in Gloucester by rail. It contained all my BBC course notes, textbooks and many other personal items. Another blow! I had to work right up to the day before my departure, and did not even have the time to go home to see my parents before leaving for the mines.

On Monday the 8th January 1945 I said my goodbyes and left Croydon to catch a series of trains to Cardiff, (where I had been earlier with the BBC), and then by bus to the "Bevin Boys'" hostel at Rhydyfelin about ten miles from Cardiff.

Thus ended my employment with the BBC.

Later, during periods of leave, I was able to go back to Croydon, and Tatsfield, to pay visits, and attend their annual dinners, to meet with old friends and reminisce.

POSTSCRIPT.
My time in the coal mining industry at `Deep Duffryn' pit in Mountain Ash, was a truly awful experience, which I will never forget. It was, however, cut short when I became quite ill, with stomach problems. After medical assessment came discharge and recuperation. When I was fit, I did go into the Army, into the Royal Corp of Signals, where I was able to make use of the skills I had acquired with the BBC. On my eventual demobilisation in September 1948, my old job with the BBC was available to me under the terms of a government job re-instatement ruling. However, I was now married. Housing in London was very difficult to obtain and expensive. My salary would have been about £6.0.0d per week. We could not have managed on that in the London area, and accommodation for married couples was very difficult to find. So, with great reluctance I lost my opportunity to return to my old job with The British Broadcasting Corporation.

In late 1950 I became the Station Engineer for a newly formed company who were to develop the world's first Television Relay Station (later to be known as Cable TV). It was in my hometown of Gloucester. The following 28 years were most gratifying.
These experiences form other stories!

Chapter 1 can be viewed at www.bbc.co.uk/dna/ww2/A7157081

Chapters 2 and 3 can be viewed at www.bbc.co.uk/dna/ww2/A7157432

Chapters 4 and 5 can be viewed at www.bbc.co.uk/dna/ww2/A7157621

Chapter 6 can be viewed at www.bbc.co.uk/dna/ww2/A7158026

Pr-BR

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