As the train pulled into Darlington station,
both children and I decided we rather liked the look of Yorkshire. Met by G.,
already installed and unloaded, we caught up on the previous couple of days
whilst taking in the scenery on the drive to Rawlinson Road. Although still a
Captain, G had been allocated a Major's quarter. At the end of the short,
cherry-tree lined drive, stood a low, two-storied, red-brick semi, separated
from our neighbour by a high hedge and fronted by a thriving rockery and lawn,
prompting a 'Great' from Simon. 'Space for a Badminton net.'
Apart from a double-aspect sitting-room, a
utility-room and a fourth bedroom,' G had replied, when quizzed on the homeward
journey 'The house follows the usual pattern... Sorry. No central heating. But
it's on the cards...' Ah. 'And I've made up all our beds. But before we go in
I'll just mention that decorators have been promised. Due in about three
weeks.' Ah, again...But it had a friendly look. At least from the outside. Once
inside however the hands of friendship remained firmly clenched as we surveyed
our new living quarters, succinctly cursing the previous occupants whose two,
perhaps three years worth, of accumulated dirt and dross was all too evident.
A year of real change. In less than a month,
with Dom at the local school, and Simon in his last but one term at St. D's.
late September found G. preparing for the first of the regiment's Belfast
tours. I suspected he'd been warned sometime prior to us leaving Berlin - such
moves being planned well in advance - but considerately, had said nothing. And
so began the start of the soon to become familiar pattern of what the family
referred to as 'Bog-Trotting'. The regiment would remain in Catterick for
almost four years, although we were posted
- a Staff job for G - after three and a half. During this time, six
tours in Northern Ireland would have been completed, plus exercises in Denmark
and Canada.
As several of these tours turned out to be
closer together than one might have expected, welfare problems grew rapidly.
That first year, with the men away for both Christmas and Easter, some
families, having bravely arranged short summer holidays, were forced to cancel
as, after just weeks back in England, the men were again en route to N.I. for
an 'Emergency three weeks, or so' - the
'Or so' turning out to be another full four months.
With the house scoured, painted and boasting
the novelty of carpets and curtains which for once, failed to clash, our
limited spare time before G. left, was spent exploring. Close by, situated at
the edge of the beautiful N. Yorks Dales,was Richmond, a small, ancient,
friendly market town, whose famous bridge spans the picturesque river Swale.
After two years of big-city life we appreciated the change, immediately falling
for the broad, surrounding stretches of wild countryside, delightful small
towns and villages, and exquisite ruins, all of which oozed history.
from SINGING TO THE GOLDFISH by Bev Pettifar
Get your copy HERE
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