Part I: Seals teeth and whales ears - Scott Polar Research Institute ...

on his car radio two days later, as we drove through the countryside, that I heard the
Prime Minister’s announcement that Poland had been invaded and the war had
begun.
My memories of Wigton are limited. Its population was about 5,000, many of the
families interrelated and it was still reeling from the depression of the l920's, people
were poor, there were few cars. A clothing factory and a cellophane factory provided
jobs. Later we were shown around the latter; it gave off a powerful smell of carbon
disulphide, which permeated the town; one became more or less used to it after a
while! Market days were a bustle of activity, when lowing and snorting cattle were
driven through the streets to the stalls in the cattle-market and auctioned. There were
little shops where we could spend our pocket money, and a small cinema, the Palace
Cinema in Meeting House Lane, although I don't remember that we ever visited it.
We shared the Nelson School - the Wigton Grammar School - with the local boys,
but the two schools didn't meet very much, for we had our lessons in the morning,
8.0 am to 1.0 pm and they had the afternoon session, when we were able to play
games. By now I was very keen on rugger and we grew into a very good team,
perhaps because of the many hours we put into practices. We found that
Cumberland rugby was a pretty dirty game compared with the more gentle game we
were used to. "Kick 'im off the ball" and "Gouge 'is eyes out" were among the least
offensive familiar cries. I played in various positions, including hooker which was
pretty tough, but I preferred playing in the three-quarters, usually at fly-half or
centre. I remember Arthur Bell (later Director of Kew Gardens), Brian Davison (who
later became a biochemist and went to the University of the West Indies), and
Gwynn Bevan (who got his blue at Cambridge) as three very effective backs. Graham
Rose (later Gardening Correspondent of the Sunday Times) was another team mate
and I think David Lumsden (later Sir David and Director of the Royal Academy of
Music).
A small covered swimming pool or public baths, stood in an isolated position
among the fields, reached by a narrow path, and I suspect fed by a stream. At any
rate the water was always very murky; it was refilled once a week I think, but there
was no filtration plant - and it was always cold. It is surprising that none of us went
down with meningitis, hepatitis or polio, because it was certainly very unsanitary. I
suppose we had showers after games, but have no clear recollection. We also had
gruelling cross-country runs through the muddy paths of the surrounding
countryside. This was obligatory, as was rugger I suppose; I loved rugger, but didn’t
enjoy the runs.
The winter of l939/40 was a very cold one and the fields remained snowcovered.
A meeting place in the evenings was on an estate nearby, where there was a
large block of flats, the ‘Jubilee Mansions’. The building was set in a park with a
large pond, on which we skated; it was almost a lake in my memory, and had islands
covered with rhododendron bushes. I had a regular girlfriend, Hilda, an attractive
blond. We used to shelter in the draughty open basement of the flats, with the snow
falling outside and talk for hours. There were braziers and roast chestnuts too at the
skating. The surrounding countryside was farming country and we explored it in the
snow, including some iced-over rivers and quarry pools. Once I fell in and was
lucky to clamber out. It is my first clear recollection of the beauty of uneven
29