Memories of Howstrake Camp Pt1

The first picture in the series shows Bandmaster Brain with two of the WRNS stewards, that is to say that these Naval ladies were stewards for the SNCOs who were staff and instructors at the School, not, I repeat not, for the benefit of the Boys who quickly had to learn what 'cooks' was all about - the fetching and serving of meals. This duty stayed with them all their service life until modernity caught up with the Navy/Royal Marines in the form of a central messing facility - the dining hall. On reflection, the rating that these WRNS carried was OS, standing for Officers' Stewards so I don't think that the instructors really qualified, but it would not surprise me to learn that this benefit had been 'wangled' in some way or another. Of course, there were half a dozen or so bona fide officers anyway and it could well have been that an 'arrangement' was agreed upon by all groups. Whatever, all the boys' domestic arrangements were part of the everyday learning process.

Pictures 2 and 3 (above) show the upper part of the camp and the nearby countryside in both summer and winter; very often it was hard to tell the difference! The Irish Sea is in the background and had to be negotiated by ferry to get to the mainland, making escape from the island all but impossible. Almost inevitably, when seasonal leave came around and the boys were taken down to the ferries the seas would be a heaving maelstrom of white horses and the six or eight hour journey to Fleetwood would be a nightmare of moaning bodies, the stench of oily engines mixed with the all pervading and ever present aroma of Manx Kipper. "Oh they can't take that away from me". The main gate was at the top of the roadway in the foreground through which all boys passed on their way in and out of camp. The eagle eye of the duty NCO would always detect the wrong angle of a cap, any other uniform discrepancies too numerous to mention and, horror of horrors, if a boy had been foolish enough to imbibe a half pint of very watery beer down in the capital of Douglas. The pathway down the hill was often negotiated by PTI Cpl Spike Sullivan, at high speed, on his bicycle, usually terminating at the tennis courts at the bottom, where he would athletically leap into the air, legs astride, and the bike would crash into the wire netting surrounding the courts. Sullivan, a very popular NCO, would look about as if nothing untoward had happened, adjust his dress as they say, and head for the gym and the day's work. His Boss, Colour Sgt Micky Hunt was another character, whose favourite saying was, "Go on Boy, 'it me, 'it me". He had been the Corps Heavyweight boxing champion for many years and used to take us all for lessons in the gentle art of self defence. If he thought you weren't putting all you had into it he would exhort, Go on Boy, 'it me. If you did manage it he would have a laugh and if you didn't, you got a fairly stiff jolt from a left jab.

Picture no 4 shows the dining hall, with below it the laundry and bathroom. The laundry had the very latest equipment for clothes drying, being a huge tub with on the right side a large wooden handle which when rotated caused the inner tub to spin at speed the idea being to create centrifugal force to spin the water out of your wet clothes. It was quite astonishing to be able to dry a set of underwear and a pair of pussers dogs (grey issue socks) with only three or four hours' worth of manipulating the handle. The snow bound picture shows what great fun was to be had running from your room to the bathroom for your weekly bath, need it or not!

Talking of instruction brings into the frame picture No 6. This picture is very interesting indeed as it shows the very enlightened approach by the authorities to the need for sound proofed private practice spaces. This notion was taken up by the Royal Academy of Music some years later. Notice the amount of space around each player and the very pleasant greenery and gorse all around. The only slightly disturbing part of the picture is the evidence of the electrified fence at the top. This provided a necessary deterrent and prevented mass break-outs which occasionally threatened. Can anyone of the era name anyone in the picture? The instructor is Bdmr Beecham (no relation) who used to coach the Dance Band

Very similar is picture No 7. In this picture Band Boy Chris Taylor is second from the left. He subsequently became a Captain, Director of Music, and was a very fine trombonist. On his left is Band Boy M A G Hadley (I think) and again I think Band Boy John Borrington. The other chap I cannot place but no doubt I shall hear all about it soon. The instructor appears to be Bandmaster Nutty Duncan, an exceptional player, a particularly fine pianist who, in later life was Director of Music of the Fiji Police Band. Oh what fun it was to have trombones roaring in your ears as you practised the clarinet a few metres away!

Picture No 8 is a quite illuminating one. It shows a number of features which are of great interest the first of which has to be the three clarinet students in the foreground. The one closest to the camera, unless I am very much mistaken is Band Boy Paul Neville, who, nobody will need reminding, went on to become the Principal Director of Music after Sir Vivian Dunn retired. He and I went to the Royal Academy of Music together and I have considered him a friend for sixty years. Next to him is, I think Titch Comber, and whilst I know the other one, age prevents me from naming him. The other feature which will interest first time viewers is the avenue between accommodation blocks. These were the rooms that Band Boys lived in, possibly sixteen to a room, just about the size of your average sardine tin. The pipe organ arrangement is not, in fact, a pipe organ at all but rather the means of heating the rooms in the winter. Super (ha ha) heated steam was carried from the boiler room by means of these pipes, consider the distance alone from source, and you will get some notion of how ineffective they were. They were, on the other hand a very good means of heralding the arrival of an NCO, so that if you banged on the pipe in the end rooms the reverberation continued all the way to the far end thus warning you to beware.

Picture No 9 is one that I expect will cause a good deal of speculation. With a magnifying glass and a powerful torch I have been able to name 8 or 9 Boys including DEW Smith, Eddy Stigwood, Johnny Quaye, Ginger Yates, Johnny Browning and a few others whose names slip in and out of memory. The Section Leader with the clip board towards the tail end of the queue could be, repeat, could be, my old friend Bill Hamley but maybe not. This shot seems to have been taken at the RT or Sports field, but if so, we are standing on the wrong side of the field for the run back to the camp. It was customary to check that everyone was present and hadn't magicked themselves away during the games period, hence the Section Leaders with the clipboards. Despite the relatively happy mood of the picture there seem to be a good many Churchillian Victory signs being accorded the photographer, perhaps he was asking for too much forced cheerfulness. The RT Field was about a mile and three quarters from the camp so that even when you had finished soccer, rugby or whatever there was still the run back to the camp, with Kippers for tea at the end of it, having had them for breakfast and lunch, with the prospect of having them for dinner, or supper also. Very health giving, if somewhat boring, especially after four weeks of the same diet in the season. How many Boys can you remember and name??

Picture No 10 is a pretty special one showing as it does the beach which lay between the camp and the playing fields, which were reached by the pathway to the rear left of the picture. The Camp, if you can imagine it, was to the bottom of this picture, reached by a flight of about 350 roughly cut steps. The Boys in the foreground are looking upwards to the bottom of the steps where the photographer is obviously standing. In the effort to save water, and of course, the heating thereof, the boys swam here almost every day of the year. The water was icy, but icy, the fellow in the rowing boat wasn't really on lifeguard duty, just trying to keep warm. I don't think he could actually row and a glance at the picture seems to confirm that. The rocks around the coast were bountiful in crabs and lobsters, if you knew where to look you could always make a few bob by catching them and selling them off to the SNCOs who had the only facilities for getting them cooked. At the right times of the year I reckoned to treble my measly 4 bob a week in this way. The beach was the coastal terminus of Groudle Glen, a most beautifully quiet and heavily wooded valley which ran quite a way inland. A small stream ran through it emerging on the far side of the beach just where the path up the hill begins.

Picture No 11 shows the afternoon run down the steps, across the beach and up the other side to the RT Field. You will see all those snivelling wretches that wanted to get there first, perhaps half a mile in front of their colleagues, mostly older boys who had the 'bin there, done that' attitude and didn't intend to run unless the PTI got serious about it… It can easily be seen how rugged the terrain is and how unforgiving to young legs, no matter how fit. I can't honestly say who owned, or lived in the house which is featured on the side of the hill, it certainly didn't belong to the camp. Now I expect someone will say 'Oh Yes it did'. The little stream that flowed out of Groudle Glen can be seen in the lower centre of the picture, and over which we had to pass to get to the path up to the field. It too, was icy at all times of the year and the source of much discomfort both going and coming.

Picture 12 shows two of the officers responsible for discipline and training at that time. The very jaunty looking fellow in Khaki with the Flying Officer Kite type moustache, was Captain George Keen, the Director of Music, a man of great patience and forbearing. He could look very fierce under that moustache but I rarely ever heard a cross word from him. His Deputy (not the man in the picture) was Lt A C Green the famous arranger of Sunset, a splendid minor composer who retired into a job as the BBC Music Librarian. He conducted the Boys' Orchestra, in which I well remember playing a delicious little piece of his called Moon Maiden. I wonder if it is still extant? The other officer, is a Commissioned Bandmaster (a rank which no longer exists) one Dougie Jarman, a very pleasant, somewhat scholastic man which is evident from this picture.
Part two of this fascinating article and a final set of photographs will appear in the Christmas edition of Blue Band.