3rd September 1950
I lay
on the riverbank gazing up at the sky. Alternate waves of hot and
cool air gently caress my skin, dashing hither and thither causing the long dry
meadow grasses to hiss and sing of other memorable autumn days long past.
Life was much simpler back then in the 1950's. The nightmare war
in Europe was fast
receding from our minds like a bad dream. The King was on his
throne, Dad was back home with us, and all was well with my world.
Earlier in the week, I'd followed Kenneth and his Dad to the river Rom, to watch
them fly the model aircraft Kenneth had received as his birthday present.
.-...-.
"
Dad said, ""Mr Davis is a private man, he can't abide noise."
Can't
stand children, I thought, or rather the noise we
made? We often played round at Kenneth's house; It was larger than
mine and he had toys his dad owned when he was a child before the war.
Mecano, a Hornby Double-O train set, model cars, board games, a magic set,
books and many other things all still in their original boxes, always handled
with great care. The contents of his bedroom were treasure trove to me.
So
when Mrs Davis said, "You will have to play in your room today Kenneth,
Daddy is swotting." I was delighted.
Mr
Davis was studying to become a solicitor, his studies had been curtailed when
he volunteered for the RAF at the start of the war, in 1939.
Most
of us post-war kids had to make do with cast-offs or what we could make for ourselves.
Imagination is a wonderful tool, so an
old palling with a bent nail for a trigger was a rifle, a curved tree branch tensioned
with parcel string served as a bow and strait pea sticks tipped with tar, from
the road, made effective arrows. I'm talking about a different world, 67
years ago. We appreciated what we had, and for being reunited with our
loved ones meant everything to us.
Mr
Davis was invalided out early in 1944, he had a flying accident and lost a leg
and had some hearing loss. He was 28,
his hair was thinning and prematurely grey. He bore a thin pale scar on
his left cheek from his ear lobe to his mouth, so he disguised his injuries by wearing
a suit tie and a trilby hat when he went out even on the hottest days.
.-...-.
I'd
never seen a radio-controlled plane fly, so I followed them keeping a wary distance because Mr Davis only ever took Kenneth out on his own. And I would not
be welcome. I watched as the model was filled with Aero Spirit and fired
up, the loud whine sounded, to me, like a real aircraft. Puffs of smoke
blew from the exhaust as Kenneth held it tail fin as instructed.
Mr
Davis manipulated the controls, "let go, Now!" he yelled to Kenneth
and it took to the air, looped the loop, did a role and looped into a
tight circle. The controls changed hands, and the small craft levelled out,
heading for the old oak tree. As if drawn by a magnet. the controls
changed hands again but the plane flew into the upper branches and the motor
abruptly cut out, it was stuck!
They
spent some time trying to shake the branches to get the plane down, without
success. Mr Davis tried to climb up the trunk, but only his good leg
could gain purchase. H gave up and tried to boost Kenneth into the lower
branches, but he was unable to reach it.
"You'd
better come down, and we'll get you something else for your birthday."
At
that moment Kenneth froze, "I, I can't move!" He began to cry.
Without
thinking, I left my hiding place to help my friend. The oak held no
fear for me, I could climb like a monkey!
"Turn
around and hang on," I yelled climbing into the lower branches. I
reached Kenneth in no time, Guided and coaxed him to a place where his Dad
could reach him.
"You'd
better come down too," said Mr Davis.
"What
about your plane?" I asked.
"Leave
it, it's far too high up," he said.
I
laughed and scurried up retrieving it with ease.
.-...-.
I was
invited to tea, Mrs Davis plied me with salmon sandwiches, fresh cream cakes,
homemade jam scones and lemonade. I almost
burst with pride when Mr Davis regaled his wife with the rescue and my climbing
prowess.
Then he
totally surprised me. "We're going fishing at the weekend Lenny, would you
like to come along?"
We had a great
day. I learned to fish with a rod, reel, gut line, and propper hooks (not a
stick, twine and a bent pin) it was a day I will never forget!
818 words
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Len