I was born in the last house, 29, on Robert Street, Ely. A width of the road away was a haystack and farm and the river was fifty yards away. It was a most magnificent place to have been brought up in. The woods were a quarter of an hour walk away. There was the farm to learn about animals. There was haymaking, the river for swimming and diving, making your own canoes and boats. It was an adventurous playground.
There was the paper mill on the other side of the river, where there were large rolls of paper. We would take them and make paddles out of the paper, and float them out to Penarth.
It was a wonderful place to grow up. I never had any childhood illnesses bar one. I can even remember the headmistress's desk in my school exactly as it was - the multicoloured pens, the crayons and rubbers. I wish I could draw. There was a lot of adventure. And that's what I miss most. I remember crying at eight o'clock at night not having done everything I had planned to do at eight o'clock in the morning.
I can remember the cinema too. The programmes changed once a week on Saturday, and there was one film I saw with my father - The Firefly with Allan Jones. I heard the song he sang just once and I could remember every word when I got home: 'There's a song in the air but the fair señorita doesn't seem to care for the song in the air'.
There were two farms. One was right on the corner of Ely racecourse. The jockeys would ride under the branches of trees and they would nearly knock their hats off. Ely used to come alive on race day with rolls-royces at the White Lion and and race horses on Mill Road farm. There was a street called Heol y Felin - Welsh for Mill Lane - but I never heard a word of Welsh until I was twenty. At that time all the Welsh speakers lived in Pontcanna. I'm ashamed to admit I could only count up to five in Welsh.
I was an only son, though I had a step brother and step sister. My brother was reported missing on a flying mission during the war. The War Graves Commission did everything to try and find him, they never stopped searching, which I am really grateful for.
When it came to leaving school my father said: 'If you pass well you will get a new bike'. So I passed with distinction and my father said we'll get your new bike in Canton. I loved my father and mother very much. I said: 'Can I have the money instead?' My father never asked why. I said I've got a few bob in the post office. So I went to France. I was just seventeen. I ended up at Étaples. A gendarme caught me shooting out of season with someone I had met, and we got warned.
I came back, getting on for seventeen and a quarter. I went to the Royal Navy recruitment office. I went for the intelligence test, and my birth certificate was sent to Bristol, but it came back without any comment. So I got a job as trainee manager with the Co-op instead.
Then one day I went past the RAF recruitment place, and the sergeant outside was a girlfriend's uncle. I passed the aptitude test, and had the medical. I joined the RAF, but I didn't tell anyone. I had very indulgent parents and I could do no wrong. I was sent to Cardington, where the R101 airships were based. I loved my time in the airforce.
This story was written as part of a
Taff Housing initiative which was funded by the
Arts Council of Wales.
