Do you remember the Fir Tree Inn, right up at the top of Wingate?
My Aunty Peggy and Uncle Dick held the licence there for a long time. I used to love the feel of the place, the people who drank there, the 'turns' in the club room and the way everything looked so different from the other side of the bar.
I would wander about and just soak up all the atmosphere. Aunty Peg loved nice dresses and I used to think she was wonderful in a silver dress or a vivid red top over a tight black skirt. She held sway there and was a wonderful organiser.
I worked in the pub for a while; quite illegally I have to admit. As the local police told Uncle Dick, 'I know she looks eighteen but get her out of there till she IS 18'.
But it was great while it lasted. On Club Nights we usedto serve pie and peas supper, and the peas stewed all day in a baby Burco boiler with ham bones for that wonderful flavour.
I went back for a visit in 1997. The small rooms had been knocked into one long place and the 'feel' of the place had changed. Auntie Peg and Uncle Dick were long gone. No Uncle Dick at a card table wreathed in smoke and no Auntie Peg presiding over the bar in all her splendid glory.
I did legally work in a bar much later on but it was never the same. The Fir Tree had it own brand of magic.
I served in the forces in England & Germany (Rheindahlen) Berlin with 247 Provost Company.
I went to Berlin to work on the checkpoints. Back in 1964 there were 3 ways in or out: by train, by air and by road.The road was controlled by police. We worked with a FrenchGendarme and an American MP. All traffic was logged in and monitored on its journey down to West Germany.
The Provost Company was based in the Olympic Stadium; weladies had a great flat up above the duty room and 7 of us lived in splendid isolation. No men allowed.
I remember the night three of us asked boyfriends in for coffee; talk about an orgy taking place. We girls got grounded. Mind you I still managed to get engaged and then married to the R.E.M.E fitter during my stay there. I then moved out to live in a succession of private flats till we qualified for an Army Quarter. Our eldest son was born in Berlin.
One of the flats we had was owned (we thought) by a very 'eccentric' lady by the name of Weber-Andre. It was sub-let to the point that what I thought was a cupboard turned out to be home to a student with just enough room to get out of bed and leave.
Frau Weber-Andre was amazing; she wandered about in black tights and a green negligee. The phone had a lock on it and she let you have one bath a week and she supervised the water input. Then upon the monthly payday she gave you clean sheets for the bed!
But I shall never forget my schooldays. I want to find MIRIAM KHAN who I knew when we were students at BillinghamTech. I tried to find her via her address in Spennymoorbut the houses have long gone. I have tried local papers without success.
Anne McDonald, Australia, 2002
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