Part 6

Part 6

Summary: This section captures the lively, sometimes chaotic atmosphere of post-war Portslade. It features childhood high jinks during a Salvation Army parade, a cheeky first taste of VE Day ice cream, and festive workplace antics at the CVA factory. It also reflects on the local trades of the era—from the familiar rag and bone men to the author's family move north to a modern council house in Drove Gardens, complete with fond and poignant memories of family life, household economy, and his father's foraging trips to Hove beach and the River Adur.

20/06/2026

The Salvation Army Parade and the Fire Alarm

The wartime period was a time of making your own pleasures, such as they were. Anything a little different from normal was something to watch; Saturday evening in Portslade was no different. On this particular Saturday, it was the Salvation Army led by Mr Wingate as usual, carrying the standard. They marched along North Street from the Citadel and turned into Camden Place.

On the pavement at that point outside of Bostels' store was a fire alarm. Well, one of those little boys obviously got very bored, and yes, it had to happen—yes, a boy known to me as Norm was the culprit; he set the alarm off. Up came the fire brigade, and the officer asked where the fire was. The chief looked at me, the smallest there: "It had to be you." I wasn't going to take the blame, so I told him it was Norm, and he got the ticking off.

Moving on about 15 years, my parents were living in Valley Road, and I was outside mucking about with my BSA motorcycle, when a couple of hundred yards up the road...

21/06/2026

A VE Day Ice Cream Interloper

The war was over — joy and happiness!

I have always had a nose for anything happening around me, and on this particular day, I had wandered into East Street, the next road along. It was the day of their VE Day party, and Mr Citrone, the ice cream shop owner from East Street, was just arriving with a tub of ice cream and a box of cones. The look on my face must have been an absolute picture. The little interloper had the first one out of the tub! My first ice cream was at the age of seven.

Christmas Antics at the CVA Factory

I have written about CVA in my tales, but I don't think the chaps that worked there on this particular day—the last day before Christmas—will forget it.

There were two of the boss's sons, Julian and Michael, who worked at the Eaton Road factory, and it was almost home time. Julian walked up to the factory towing a cardboard box with a piece of string. Mr Phillips, one of the bosses, walked by, and Julian just said, "It's my dog, Mr Phillips. I am taking him for a walk. HE IS MY BOXER!"

It was one of the funniest things I have ever seen in a factory. Well, it was Christmas!

22/06/2026

The Rag and Bone Men of Portslade

I wonder where the profession of totting went. Just after the war, I remember a chap called Charlie Clarke appeared at regular intervals in North Street, Portslade. He seemed to be our regular rag and bone man. He said that he came from Brighton, but I can't quite imagine anyone pushing a very large flat wheelbarrow all the way back to even the edge of Hove. How he ever made a living at it, I will never know. To me, the story of Charlie Clarke will remain untold unless he has a survivor.

When we moved up to Drove Gardens, I was surprised to see Old Mrs Giles and Bubbles, who were based in the big farmhouse at the bottom of South Street. They could often be seen driving their cart with the brown and white horse about, and I could only assume that it was for that very same purpose. The horse was kept in a field based about where Downland Court is today.

23/06/2026

Moving North, the Old Village

No. 3 George Street, for the first seven or eight years of my life, to Drove Gardens, brought about some changes. I should say, no outside toilet in the pouring rain, no just gas lights upstairs and only coal to heat the oven and keep you warm. We did have a gas cooker in the scullery, oh yes, and we did have electricity downstairs with an ancient old Cossor radio for entertainment. I was about nine when we moved north to Drove Gardens. Local firm Scarratts did the removals.

Family Life and Hardships at Drove Gardens

The worst thing about this move was my mum Kate having a stroke that left her an invalid for the rest of her life. Anyway, we had moved to a new modern council house, the last one leading on to a mesh fence and Huggett's smallholding. Quite exciting really: a back boiler, two inside toilets, a bathroom. I never found the partridge in the pear tree. My dad, a very keen gardener, found plenty when digging the back garden though, the worst being an in-use builder's site toilet, and he wasn't right happy about that! Dad was kind to Mum considering the state she was in and her having to wear leg irons for the rest of her life. We very soon had Radio Rentals put a black and white TV in for her. Still, come the cup final, I had all of my mates around to watch it.

Memories of the Horse and Plough

What I loved as much as anything was the old chap driving the horse and plough past our house and being given a cup of tea. A real piece of heaven. A lot of great memories from that house and a few sad ones too.

Hon. Alderman Bob Carden

24/06/2026

Pillion Rides and Post-War Reality: Memories of My Father

I was seven when Dad was demobbed, and I always seemed to be the sibling who spent the most time with our father. It was always me who was taken for a motorcycle ride on the pillion of his machine.

Making Ends Meet in the Household

About the house, there were items connected to helping out with the economy of the household. My mother had an old Singer treadle sewing machine on which she subcontracted from Hinsons outfitters the alterations of gentlemen's trousers. Her price for shortening a pair of gentlemen's trousers was eighteen pence or one shilling and sixpence. Hinsons had a gents' outfitters in Station Road just around the corner.

Another item that I saw was a shoemaker's last; it was a three-footed piece of cast or forged iron which would take different-sized shoes. There were never ever any luxuries, but the bills were paid.

Trawling the Beach and the River Adur

In the shed was a commercial-sized shrimp net that Dad would take down to Hove beach and trawl along the sands at low tide if the tide was right—another of Dad's activities on a Sunday morning. For this, he would cycle out to the River Adur with his old army haversack and bring it back full of winkles.

On one particular Sunday, when he came back with his winkles, he got back to George Street and realised he had lost his wallet. He cycled all the way back to Shoreham, and there was his wallet on a rock just above the incoming tide.

Hon. Alderman Bob Carden