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A Collection of short stories By Dennis Watson G2BSI

Barkway

1946

I thought you might like to read about the part of the radio scheme known to all as `Barkway`. In fact this huge aerial mast was at Reed Joint in Barkway Parish on the hills above Royston and one of the county’s highest points. There were two masts at the site, one which had lost the top section in a war time accident stood in the middle of a small RAF Camp. Whilst the other to be designated for Police use was several hundred yards away. Our visits to the camp were for collection of the keys to the hut at the base of the mast. This enormous erection stood about one hundred yards across a ploughed field. It was entirely constructed from huge timbers of railway sleeper dimensions and the four supporting legs were so far apart as to allow a good-sized house to be built within the span. To reach the top it was possible to walk up the stairs round the four sides until, I suppose, the climber reached about three hundred feet when he must climb outside and finish the final climb hanging onto giant iron `staples` banged into the mast on the outside.

I would add that, had a million pounds been left at the top for me if I cared to go and get it I should sill have my name down for the Poor House in my dotage. However, it came to pass that a squad of `Riggers` came from the Home Office to install the aerial masts bits and pieces, the actual aerials and all the cables work down the mast. I think these lads were ex naval chaps and unlike ship masts, this one stood still so they treated it with contempt.

They brought with them a huge ball of thin strong cord with a ditto of rope. With this lot hanging round them and spanners in overall pockets they explained that they would lower the string, weighted with spanners, down to us. We should tie the rope to the end of the string and help it on its way. Simple, tie the big aluminium aerial to the rope, they would haul it up and secured it to the mast and we could all go home.

That’s what you think. They tied the spanners on the string, then they let the string down, oh it long enough to come down to earth, but the spanner department decided to visit London on the way down and with a gale blowing they floated on the breeze about four hundred feet away and fifty feet above us. No pocket radios in those days and a bit of a semaphore was sent down. They would try more weight. But they were fresh out of spanners and then a brilliant mind decided to risk his shoes. The extra weight won the fight and we hooked on the end of the rope. This was pulled up, the shoes retrieved; a wigwag from the petty officer .

They explained on reaching us, that it was unmentionably cold up there, (or words to that effect) and that they required refreshment at the local hostelry before finishing the job off. They agreed that since I was a non-drinker, I should be allowed to remain and stop the mast being pinched whilst they quaffed. They returned an hour later to start the final run. I was of Scots quite content since after corned beef sandwiches and a flask of tea laced with a drop man’s breath from my First Aid Kit for purely medicinal purposes you will understand.

I was able to watch a load of fairly sober shipmate’s finish off the job without losing a man. Of one thing I am certain, had the old bag business been in vogue in those days, the whole lot would have been in the Pokey, and that includes the van driver. So Barkway was christened.

The Pig

1943

It occurs to me that I have omitted to tell you the story of the pig. It started during the war when a local person called at, shall we say Phil's Café.

He had under his arm a very small Piglet, obviously the last and smallest of the litter known to us country folk as the runt.

"Here he is" said the visitor. My mate and I watched with interest, we were resting from our labours on motor patrol. Phil eyed the small creature with doubt," He’s not very big" he observed. "You wouldn't be having him if he was" the other pointed out. Phil saw the point of this argument, and gazed at us I shook my head that we didn’t want to know and they closed ranks.

Phil's boy who was serving teas stopped and went out for a cardboard box and a towel as instructed in which to park the porker and we left.

On the next call a day or two later Phil beckoned us and signed a trip to the yard. He was waiting when we arrived and displayed a double pig sty made of bomb damaged doors and containing two mighty midgets at this time curled up together in the straw." I thought I might as well take a chance on two of them while I was it.

I know the law and I know you so I haven't seen these"." Good lad, I wont forget you and he didn't although he did not foresee why he would have no chance to overlook the guardian of his peace. Some months has gone by and the pig had passed from our minds when we called back for a cup of tea during a night as black as Hades on closing day. We groped our way through the blackout curtain into the comparative brilliance of the cafe.

Phil was on duty as usual, I sometime wondered if he ever went to bed. We called for tea and found a seat. We quietly sipped for a couple of minutes when a lorry driver pushed his way past the blackout curtain and went up to the counter. "What will it be" Phil queried," In a minute" answered the driver," first of all does any one here own a pig?" Phil pricked up his ears and glanced at us why, you want to buy one?" No I don'ts the bloke said think I have just killed one that was out for a walk in the blackout".

"You are in luck then, you'll have bacon for life" Phil told him with a laugh, then his jaw dropped," Harry" he called to his son," Go and see if the pig is all right". The lad shot off into the yard and came back to say" He’s gone Dad the sty is open".

I think then Phil wished he had bought a padlock. Must explain that when constructing the sty he had just knocked in two nails and tied them together with string. Mind you Phil had forgotten that the pig was now huge and looked about the two hundredweight mark. No door can stand that amount of bacon leaning on its bit of string.

Having recovered from the shock, Phil called for volunteers, adding," We need you two as you have torches" which was a laugh since they had paper in the front and showed nothing at all. However we told him seriously that its was our duty to check on a road accident which didn’t please him at all," Sub Rosa" was his motto where pigs were concerned. Anyway about six of us pushed through the trap and made for the scene of the crime. We found the body about fifty yards up the road beside the kerb after one of the lads fell over it.

Phil had a look at him by the glow of our lamps," Dead as mutton" he pronounced cheering up by the minute as he realised he had not lost a pig. But just gained some bacon.

Since the lorry had not damaged the animal other than trying to push it's head back to its tail end and tried to turn it inside out. We all decided that there was not a lot we could do and started to drift off. Phil had other idea's, "we can't leave it here" he said, "somebody might pinch it".

"Pinch it? You 're joking" I told him, " It weights about half a ton, even if they find it in this blackout"." they could carve his legs and other bits off him" Phil counterded. He could see we were Weakening," I, LL see you all get a meal afterwards". Ok.

Lets get it on the grass, but this was easier said than done and all our efforts to move it up the Kerb and onto the grass were unavailing. In the end the driver who had started all this malarkey went for his lorry, tided a rope around Percy's back leg and dragged him to safety before some other lorry turned us all it to Bacon.

By this time someone had remembered the old coaster's barrow in the yard and bough it down to the scene of the crime. We tried to sort of scoop the lamented up onto the vehicle without, let me say, a great deal of success, so it was back to the rope whist those who could get a hold on the barrow, held it against the push of the pig and at last it was in situ.

All was now plain sailing and with Phil walking a longside while the rest of us pushed. We started along the wheel scarred grass, there was the rub, because in the blackness of the night a wheel dropped into a long rut going in another direction so that wheel went with it.

With a sigh the barrow sat down on Phil's side which was a pity because it landed where he had just put his offside foot.

Anyone else would have said "Tut Tut or Bother but there it is, you always get one don't you and he stood in the blackness, one foot under the pig whilst quoting " The Café Keepers, Dictionary of Wicked Words" from started to finish. Silly really because all he had to do was ask us politely to get the flaming pig off his foot.

We struggled and got him free whilst the finer minded members suggested cutting his foot off. I don't know why we bothered really because he only sat and moaned. We talked for a minute or two of leaving him to die beside the pig until somebody remembered the free meal so the lorry driver got the tarpaulin from the lorry, we managed to load Percy on it rope around, the middle and we had him in the yard in a trice.

Phil said "leave it there we will deal with it in the morning"." you cant do that" said some clever, clogs" you have got to bleed it now before the blood congeals".

We looked at this man with a new respect, here was a Master of Pig bleeding first class and we never knew. "Right" said Phil; "you carry on while I pour the tea out". Our M. of P.B hadn't come up on a banana boat, Never mind the tea" he said, "Get the ham knife and while you are gone we will hang him up on the tree in the middle of the yard ".

He untied the rope from the lorry, threw it over a branch and retied it, ok drive forward he said and the body started on it's heavenly journey, it was unfortunate really that the driver, in his zeal, kept going a few inches too far, so that Percy's legs hit the branch and stopped moving, sadly causing the timber department to sever its connection with the tree and allowing Percy to make for terra firma. Phil

Was almost quick enough to avoid being wounded and suffered only minor injuries when he was sent flying by a blow on the shoulder. We left him to suffer as we put the rope over the main crotch of the tree and tried again.

"Right" said the Master "Now you cut his throat". Phil obeyed without any great enthusiasm until the P.B specialists blade him, desist as he pointed out "we are bleeding him not cutting his purple sprouting head off. We had put a large wash tub under the beast and it was now breakfast time. My mate and I walked in with one of the drivers who commented, "We bring his so and so pig in for him put him right in all the preparation and all he does is hold his foot and his head and moan.

Now I'm starving "we cant stop any longer, I'll order my breakfast and look after it till, I return "." That’s ok when will you be back? I grinned at him," about next Tuesday I reckons. As we entered the Café Phil was enquiring of the Grandmaster as to the next part of the proceedings. "Well now you have to lay it out and pour boiling water over it. Scrub it clean and then more boiling water and scrape all the bristles off it. I tapped him on the arm, How is he going to do that?

The grand M look me over and changed his mind as to his answer, instead he said politely " would you kindly sod off Policeman and guard our shores while I impart my valuable experience to this waiter person".

We ordered the supper we had no time for, safe in the knowledge that it wouldn't be wasted and made for the hills in fact the nearest Police Station to see if we had been missed. Fortunately no flat tyre story was required and we drove on rejoicing. The next day after I got cleaned up and polished off my breakfast, I got out the bike and told the Mrs.

I had an enquiry to make, which was true of course. I rode the two miles or so to the café propped up the machine and wandered in the back gate. I had to laugh, Phil; mum and the boys were gainfully employed. A large wooden tub bigger than the one we had left under Percy during the night was being topped up with boiling water, while mum and the other boys scraped busily at the pig. I drew near and watched fascinated.

They scraped, threw down a safety razor and picked up another as Phil changed the blades, "How long before you run out of blades? " I asked him." Not yet anyway" he answered," I should have twenty thousand if I haven't been twisted".

"That’s will be the day " I told him he stood up, straightened his aching shoulders and said "I know a bloke who wont get his share of bacon if he's not civil".

So with that threat hanging over my head I got on the bike and went home. I heard later that the joints were succulent, a bit whispery mind but very tasty. I know a nice bit of boiling bacon smells pleasant when cooking but it is too expensive for a poor copper.

The Sea Mine

The story in the dailies in May this year, when we were told of the unlikely find in the sea lanes off Southend by an unlucky trawler skipper of a huge parachute mine in his net, subsequently taken back to sea and blown up, brings us to its twin. These huge things, capable of blowing a hole in a great steel ship, were about five feet in length and nearly three feet in diameter.

To Make things more simple they were arranged to blow up whenever a piece of steel passed nearby. The huge green parachute must have been about thirty feet in diameter. . Our Boche was quietly flying along towards the reflection of the river Lea and on to the Thames where he hoped to find a big ship with which this monster could deal. However one, two, three or more searchlights found the plane and as the Ack-Ack guns started up, our man decided to leave his luggage at the railway station and go home on the bus.

Unfortunately the lights dazzled him and he forgot to set the clock going on the timer and our bomb floated gently down onto a playing field across the Bramfield road, to be honest quite near enough to wipe out the Station and to smash every window for a mile all round.

When the local Village Policeman heard of the visitor sitting about a hundred yards from his house, he rang the Bomb Squad and Hertford Office. He rang again shortly after to say that the bomb blokes were not enthusiastic and pointed out the danger of going near the beast, which, they explained, would blow up if any steel was taken near it.

When told this, our man became very unhappy as he whispered to me when we rolled up. He had, he explained been up to the bomb when he arrived in the field, and patted it, told it to behave itself, then they mentioned iron and he realised that he had his handcuffs in his rear trouser pocket.

He was he said tempted to go home, put the family in the car and go for a ride some place else. I thought of joining him. But decided that the old mans wrath was more certain than the bomb going off and hoped for the best. The boss took a walk round the site, made sure there were no other gates into the field and joined us in the road. He told our man to stay where he was and to say "No" to anyone who wanted to get a close look.

"Take me back to the Office" he ordered " Then go and meet the London trains bringing a Sailor type. I did as instructed and arrived right on time as a Navel Officer walked out of the entrance as I pulled up. An ancient, no doubt brought out from retirement, put down a green bag as I climbed out of the car and walked towards them. The Officer greeted me "You are?" I told him" Sergeant Watson, Traffic, Sir, sent by the Superintendent to take you to his Office" and I indicated to the car. I picked up the bag and went to open the rear door but he opened the passenger side door and climbed in, I put the bag in the back and we were away.

" I am Commander Crabbe, Sergeant " He told me. "I am honoured Sir, and so will Captain Spicer be" " A last war man hey?"" Yes Sir, you will see his ribbons, a horse soldier and a good Guv`nor" By this time we were outside the Office and I whipped round to open the door. I took him into the Supers Office, indicating to the eyes above the window for the Sergeant to join us. I took the bag in and put it down as the Guv`nor stood up. "The Commander Crabbe? I am honoured Sir",

" I suggest the Sergeant gets a cup of tea whilst I change upstairs to a warning from our visitor with a finger across his lips. A couple of steps up to my flat and a call from the Guv, nor " A meeting in here in ten minutes.

COMMANDER CRABBE COPES

I went up to my flat to find the wife had poured the tea out and the biscuits waiting, I have a feeling that, being on the bridge as it were, not much goes unnoticed, "Who is the sailor man then?" She asked, I explained that we had a sea mine dropped at the Hertford North Station and that the Bomb" Squad had not seen one before so we called in the expert. "To show them what to do?" I gulped my tea and got up as I saw the tears in her eyes. Look old dear I do as I am told, I kissed her and wiped the tears away, then kissed little one as she said," Why do you lie to me?" "I am not lying love, I just do not know what they have planned, Keep your faith " and I went downstairs.

The Super was on the `phone to round up five or six men and transport as I entered and, this fixed up, he turned to me and told me I was Commander Crabbes man until released. My new Boss then took the chair and said, We need five or six shovel and a couple of pickaxes. "Council Yard "said the office Sergent. Our Boss explained. "We need a trench, just in case"

"We also need a hundred yards or more of heavy rope, I will explain that later" He looked round the room at us and then at the Super, " It can and must be done, as soon as the others arrive we will be off" and the talk became non-committal. The Captain cared for his men and asked," Why the trench?"" I dare not touch it, it was explained," Until I have rocked it with the rope to see if the clock starts ticking, while we are in the trench, pulling the rope". He got to his feet," May I borrow a changing room, brings the bag Sergeant " we were moving. By the time he came down again, calling me to fetch the bag, he was in green overalls and as we descended the sound of voices and cars could be heard.

We moved off in convoy and made for the Council Yard and I went over to the Forman's hut. I bade him "Good Morning" he stopped reading and gave me a nod,

I said "The Superintendent asks if we nay borrow four shovels and a couple of pickaxes" " My men use the tools in this yard" "Good, get them out here mow "Write me a letter. " " Do what? With a three thousand pound mine liable to go off when it feels like it, I said Now", "You mean it don't you"," Yes " I said," I meant it" He jumped and opened the door," Harry, get the Sergeant the tools he needs, emergency." He had the grace to look stupid, " I thought you was joking Serg." " I am not joking, I wish I was " and I went out to see the tools into the Police car. I went back and reported all in order and a keen glance from the new Boss.

" So he raised tour hackles did he, you should have called me" I explained the good old trade union outlook which vanished when I suggested that time was nearly out when everything went like silk" "I wonder how we shall fare here " he said, indicating the brewery into which I was turning. I grinned at him "We are their servants and their friends " I nodded across to the door, The doorman was opening the cut glass panelled door of the Managers office I introduced them and moved away. After a few seconds they parted " you are very kind but a clear head you know". As I gave the Boss a smart one I saw the men coming with an enormous coil of the heavy rope they used in those days to lower the barrels into the cellars. I pulled down the lid of the boot and they put it gently down. I thought for a minute the car was going to get on its hind legs and beg but it resisted the temptation and with a wave of thanks I climbed on board and drove off very gingerly as the front wheels seemed hardly to touch the road, but it was a short journey and we made it to the field and all was peace.

The Boss told us where to leave the cars and then gave us a quick briefing. " Do everything I tell you without question, then we will get home tonight, I am going up to make sure the mine is silent so lay out the rope along the field and pace it out. I shall pace out the path from the bomb back here. I will unbolt the parachute from the eyebolt ready for the rope.

Cut for me a couple of branches to mark about thirty feet down the slope and the start of the trench at the end of the rope or six feet short of that so that you can all get below the parapet with room for the Sergeant and myself. "He looked around," The rope, we tie it to the eyebolt and pull our end to get the mine to roll from side to side. We keep this up for several minutes. We then stay in the trench for another five minutes, after which, I shall go and have another listen, if it ticks I shall try to join you in the trench. I will give you thumbs up if ok. Press on with the trench and you, Sergeant, get rid of all metallic material so that you may come when I call you up to the middle stick. Come up with the end of the rope as soon as we know the length. By the way when you get called the next time, put your gauntlets on. So, off he wandered Stethoscope round his neck hands in pockets though on a stroll, the most courageous man I have ever met. , Whilst I helped to check the rope for length.

After a minute or two the thumb went up and I took the end of the heavy rope up to the twig where he asked, " Have you got rid of the iron items? " I nodded, "Yes Sir" "What about the hat? " He reached for my peaked cap and turned it over to hook with his finger the spring steel wire," A mistake like that could get us all killed"; I was almost in tears. " Please forgive me Sir, I am a fool" .He looked at me kindly and shook his head, "No more mistakes" and skimmed the cap down the field, I could only swallow the lump in my throat and say," Thank you Sir". He took over the end and I heaved the rest as best I could until he had enough to tie on the eyebolt before pacing the distance down the field to the trench which the lads had noted by the rope and marked out for the approval. He watched for a minute then, said," Don't stop too soon". I went down to the car and found my big driving gloves.

The lads were well down and had very little more to do. As soon as the trench had been examined, I joined the crowd and. " No great pulls, just get it to sway gently, pull let it rock back, pull, let it rock, O.K. Climb in, all of you, is there room for me" and he jumped down. "Right but we don't want it to roll down here, so steady". He watched and said, "let it back, Now again, " and so it went on. I could have gone home for a cup of tea I swear in that five minutes. He watched his gold hunter," That's it, now we wait five minutes, these things have about five minutes delay so that the great ship can get over and amidships before they explode". I thought it would get dark before he said," That's it, keep down and wandered off again to have another listen, putting up a thumb again, so that we climbed out and brushed the dirt off our clothes, but he waived us down again, putting a hand above his head and we did as told. I had to peep and he was undoing the big bolted lid with the clock in the middle.

I waited and then another peep, he was holding the lid, whilst, with his brass wire cutters he cut a wire from the lid with a lot of wires attached to it and carefully bending them outwards as he proceeded I reckon there were about eight of them, then he turned and put the clock business on the grass. I let him see me and he indicated the stick and putting on gloves. I climbed out and started to pull on my gloves as I went up to the stick but he patted his head and beckoned me to him. He stopped me about six feet from the mine and put his hand inside the hole left by the lid. After a minute or so of investigation, he came towards me, "Hold your hand out, palm up, " he put in my hand a pink lump about the size of the little night lights we used when I was young, and that is going back a bit. "What is it?" I asked as I went to cover it with my other glove. I remember quite clearly all those years ago," It is Fulminate of Mercury, do not drop it fall over with it, breathe on it or hand it to someone to examine you will get one of the team to dig a hole about a foot square and in the bottom you will gently place it, you will put the earth gently back over it until it is full and level. The man with you will offer to put the rest of the earth back and bang it down. You will request him to leave it, at least until you and I have reached the Police Station.

He should get the message. "But suppose some youngsters come round to see what they can find?" "We will leave your man here, although in twelve hours the damp will ruin it". I was puzzled," What about those hundreds of pounds of explosive still in the bomb." It is quite simple, the Air Force has steam lorries with a boiler on them, and they will light that up and stick the hose in the hole I have left. The explosive, which looks like candle wax will run out on the grass and, no longer enclosed will give a great flash and be gone" He looked at my puzzled face. "A hand grenade my boy, pull the pin out and over arm, middle wicket. Come along, let us go back to that family of yours". What a brave man, I bet his men worshipped him Yes, past tense. He died as he lived.

THE IMPOSSIBLE TAKES A BIT LONGER

(Bishops Stortford)

Glancing through some of the stories I have written for your entertainment I am, I must admit, tempted to the belief that you find some of them drawn by a master of the long bow, as Saxon ancestors would have put it.

To show you how wrong, you are, I shall tell you another one, brought on. Let me add by a small thing, which happened the other day. I went out into the sheds with which my garden is littered, to look for a bracket or some such thing and, peering into a box, drew out a transparent disk of green Perspex about the size of a saucer. I sat down on the old backless chair and ruminated or cogitated, as you prefer. I knew my internal computer was chugging away and sure enough it spelled out Bishops Stortford .I brought the disk indoors and put it on the computer table while I finished my think and here is the story.

I went up stairs to tell the Guv, that he had four cars on duty with radio throughout the twenty-four hours, but found him preoccupied. As soon as I got to the desk he started in, "You are a Stortford man sergeant, how many hours are spent on traffic control at High street crossroads each week?

"Guessing Sir, forty to fifty ". " That is what I thought, Traffic lights the answer? ". I knew my Chief and stepped round the verbal hole. I suppose, Sir". I didn't expect the next bit. " Good man, how long will it take to make them and prove it one way or the other, we have nearly a month before next Council meeting to prove it can be done". I said, "We shall have to stop them well back because of the narrow road".

" I leave what up to you Sergeant", he waived me away then remembered to ask after my baby, "how is your system working?" "Fine Sir, four cars on at all times ", "good, keep me posted". I wandered down to the Council yard. "Leave off" the foreman said, E.V.A. makes 'em, fits ' em, and mends em', so make your own, you are an electrical man ". I scowled at him," I might just do that ", I told him and walked away to cogitate, etc.

What happened next? I will tell you, but first I have to go back a couple of months and as a good Thespian I must set the stage, which has nothing whatever to do with Traffic Lights I was about to drive out of the yard one morning when the office sergeant hailed me," You going over "B" ", I said I was and he gave me a letter to the O.C at an Army Holding Depot by the River Lea. " its easy to find" he said and disappeared indoors.

I pressed on and repaired the car radio, which was my main aim. This part complete, I collected guidance to the site and saw the squaddies on the gate was directed to a small office to deliver the missive to the sergeant. That worthy made arrangement for two cups of tea and left me protem to hand over the script and see if there was an answer. " He will deal with it," he said, returning and we supped. "Tell me sergeant " I queried, Why are your lads guarding a tip full of Army gear when the war is over". It was a good job I was in Blue or I would have been in jankers." A tip" he spluttered though the hot tea, "Let me tell you sergeant that everything that comes in here is counted and signed for, then it is put in the tip". He grinned at my dropped jaw" as I asked. Why for Pete's sake, the war is over." He sighed" Now Listen, there is a war starting up so you go to a boss of a factory and tell him you want twenty five thousand of these articles as shown on the spec.

He starts three shifts a day and everybody goes mad. Now the war is over but you have five thousand items to come and you are going to get them, come hell or high water. He got up, put on his cap, brushed his tunic and said " come on, I'll show you around ". Two Lorries pulled into the yard as we left the office, they were laden with machine gun tripods for the rear of lorries." Now what? " I asked," we shall offer them back as scrap after we have paid him for making them, or if he refuses then, which is unlikely at £1 a piece, they will go to the highest bidder, thousands of feet of seamless steel tube, tubular ladders, garden furniture just tell us what you have in mind, we can probably supply it second hand of course. So if you want to become a wartime millionaire now is your chance ".

We wandered round and I made some mental notes, finally waving him goodbye to the comment," Don't think I would be back in a week or two in dead trouble.

Now, here we are in the Traffic Signals etc. Business and no stock, there is only one thing for it. I must take my parts list over to Hertford and see what has not been screwed down. I caught my sergeant drinking tea and joined him at his little desk. "How are the lights going, got your list?" I handed it over, if you can find some four core cable that will stand a lorry resting on its' stomach, some little bits of red yellow green Perspex and a dozen of those cans you showed me, I can at leased get started. "Drink your tea, that’s is the most important, then we will look". He took me to the cable stores," 100 metres enough "he queried." I think I could make do with half of that". He threw the coil into the yard. " Half coils tell tales" he said, " you should know that".

"I do, where are these tins? ". " Perspex first, it is supposed to have gone but there are some sacks of odd bits over in that store, you might be lucky ", and I was, I only needed four of each colour, six inch circles or a one foot square, so I was happy. I collected the tins and lids and bid him farewell with a promise to let him know how we got on, but when I stuck my head in two months later he had moved on.

With one of the lads, I nipped over to the cross roads we measured out the cable run, had a look for some fixings for the lamp boards and ask the seed merchant at the corner shop, who was known to me for the favour of using the computer for the control board and some power for our plug."

No problem, when you like" he answered. So off we went to start work. We cut and marked the cables and fitted plugs and sockets on the end, if a cable got hooked on a car it could land up in the next County, which thought caused us to make a spare just in case, lamp on boards arranged to hang edgeways on the wall or whatever.

Make up the rotary switches from an old transmitter and we were nearly there. But first we had to go to a nearby set of lights and find the sequence and timing of the change over. I had invented the cycle reaction tester for road safety and bought a second hand only, one minute clock, made for timing checks so, using the power of the throne, I was reluctantly allowed to borrow it. Put the clock on the board with the timing list and we were ready for a test.

I went and told the Chief that we had put the whole thing up temporarily in the yard to try it out and for him to see, He said, "are you satisfied with it?" " Yes sir, I am ". " Then so am I and don't forget your head will be on the block with mine if it fails, but you had better find out if Superintendent Traffic has any legal quibbles". I conveyed the c.c.'s wishes to the Superintendent who decided to look and then to attend although, as he pointed out, no one found it necessary to tell him at the start but he supposed someone had to carry the can if anything went wrong.

We had no problems and everything seemed in order. On the appointed day, we had already run two test of about half an hour previously, we hooked the gear up like experts and had a little go just to make sure, everything went like silk, the traffic ran over the cables as we watched anxiously, but no puffs of smoke. The Superintendent joined us and after a few minutes said " will you kindly stop lighting that damned pipe that is about ten matches in five minutes". I knew then that I had at least one person helping me to worry. Anyway the hierarchy arrived with our Boss and, after a short tour of inspection the order was given to switch on and show them how it worked.

They trotted round the roads and discussed the narrow entrance to the Dunmow roadside where upon I nipped down and put the board a few yards earlier for the motorist to see. Bravo from everyone and a nod from the chief and a beckon to the local super. And our own man. So the lads and I were on our way back home with our gear slung in the rear By the way I never did tell the Chief that the whole thing ran straight from the mains which, of course, was why we watched so anxiously when an enormous lorry rolled over our cables in the road.

Let me know what you think: dennis.watson1@ntlworld.com

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