The Coventry you will never know

Thanks Kaga, never knew that. Gathered plenty of rose hips when I was evacuated to Measham, drank plenty of cod liver oil - great big brimful dessert spoons. If we`d been fitted up with wicks, we would have made good oil lamps, ugh Do you remember we started to get whale steak - didn`t really fancy it - and tins of fish called snoek from South Africa. I seem to remember melon jam from there, which was runny, slimy and fairly tasteless, Oh! powdered eggs, we had our own hens and ducks, but for some reason my mother made some cakes with dried eggs - came out bright yellow.

Oh thanks for the reminder Roger T, you would have to hold me down to take that stuff. NO WAY! Who said 'those were the days'? And it used to float on the top with orange juice. However, I did like the powdered egg. Mum ran a general shop in those days so we used to get all sorts of tins of - - - you name it we had it. Nescafe came in those little flat tins (in short supply). Bananas in long crates, including creepy crawlies sometimes. Cooking with lard. Well, we all survived didn't we!

Roger Turner. I still take cod liver oil and malt through the winter. I believe dried egg powder was one packet per household every month, but don't hold me to it, it's been a long time. I believe, eight ounces of sugar, four ounces of ham or bacon, four ounces of lard, three ounces of sweets, two ounces of tea (a week's ration). Bread and potatoes were not rationed till 46/7. A woman in the queue was heard to say "Just push it through my letter box".

Under this heading in years to come: When Coventry City played to big attendances at Highfield Road in the 1st Division ("top tier") of English football When Coventry was the best team in English rugby union, with many top international players to be seen at Coundon Road When Coventry Bees were a leading light in British speedway, racing in front of big crowds at Brandon Stadium which also hosted international meetings and British Finals When Warwickshire's county cricket team played matches at Courtaulds ground in Lockhurst Lane Hard to imagine isn't it

When the Coventry City Swimming Club were one of the best clubs in the country. When Coventry Godiva Harriers were all conquering on the roads and over the country.

My first memory of a strange mechanical vehicle was when my mother walked us to Bell Green and found the road almost blocked by two tramcars, each one like a two storeyed coach with wooden frames surrounding the windows - each tram was two-headed. The trams had open platforms at each end from which right-handed stairs disappeared tantalizing into the open upper decks. Mother told us we would travel on the tram into Broadgate, Coventry. Cruising steadly through the mill of bicycles, horse-driven delivery wagons and pedestrians, my first real sense of excitement and mystery of the grown-up world. Even the place names of Broadgate and Coventry were mysterious and magical. It is hard to explain to people of to-day the awe-inspiring sight and fascination of those first days of transport. The first process that would shape our very lives in the future. That age has gone now when we were entranced by so much progress. No more mystery in the way we travel.

We still find those trams attractive but because they're dainty, small and old fashioned.

I must admit I do love a tram. It's a great pity so many tramways were abandoned rather than modernised in this country, although they do seem to thrive across Europe. I particularly like Prague's system that is cheap, frequent and comprehensive. So it was very pleasant, just a week ago, to get to ride on Hong Kong's old double-decker trams where you get a splendid view from the top deck, all for a flat fare of HK$2.3, around 20p.

If ever you're in East Devon, we have 'The Seaton Tramway', which runs between Seaton & Colyton on part of the old Seaton to Axminster branch line (closed by Dr Beeching of course). It runs alongside the River Axe, a designated nature reserve marvellous for birdwatching.

I used them when I lived in Sheffield, great for hopping on and off. We (and other European nations like France) removed them because they got stuck in traffic and the middle classes wanted their cars to be king. It was the same thinking that killed many railways and resulted in grotesque mistakes like Coventry ring road. The UK's political system means it's hard for cities to build systems, which is why we don't have any, but places like France have been building them over the years.

Hi Flapdoodle - Just wondering why you described the Ring Road as a "grotesque mistake"? Do you mean its appearance, or the effect it has had on constricting the outward development of the city centre? What is the alternative - traffic going into and out of the centre? Public transport is a great idea, and I'm all for a cheap, integrated public transport system, but it is effective, timewise, for most people to drive their cars.

The Inner Ring Road has been discussed in some detail on its own thread here, so the above posts have been copied into that location to avoid overloading this thread

The Coventry I first knew had no markings on the roads, no crossings, and few traffic lights if any. There were no look left, look right, I could dash across the road and the only thing that would hit me would be a bike, but they all had bells so that would be hardly likely. We would go into town on the tram, wave to everyone. At the end of Stoney Stanton Road was the hospital - we would cheer and wave and hope for a wave back, this went on for some years, but in April 41 the hospital was hit badly. We were very saddened, and the tram rides ceased and we were older, so the buses took over. It was never going to be the same again, the end of an era. There were London trams on the Western Front in WWI. I even found a tramway had been built in Freemantle, dear old Western Oz. in the late 19th century. Brits in Oz are lucky, for a Dutchman landed there 150 years before us, did not stake his claim, only left his dinner plate nailed to a post.

I was taken by car to a house in Earlsdon, ushered smartly through the door, down some steps into a basement room - settees were all around the room, a dozen people sitting reading sports papers, writing out bets, slips of paper and pencils on coffee tables, thick smoke, a loudspeaker on one wall. A live commentary of a race was being broadcast, betting was open, a card game going on in adjoining room, bottles of beer could be purchased - con-men, criminals, bribery, all there. A similar house I went to was in Foleshill near the 'Wolfe' - all this under the noses of the police, except for one guy - he was so harassed by the police that he went to France and joined the French Foreign Legion. They threw him out after two days. All this was early fifties, not my scene - I quickly gave it all a wide berth, but it did happen.

Coventry 1938 Mum, tell me about Dad. I'm shaking all over, I'm bolt upright with my arms out, she clings to me. "It's alright Arthur. I'm here. It's alright. It was a bad dream". She pulls me down to the bed holding me tight, I burrow my face in her hair, hiding myself. After sometime I raise my head. "The war is not over. A crater you fall into, and can't get out, the mud is too deep and it holds you, I left him there, he thought I was coming back, and I never did. I ought to have stayed with him." "No, he would have wanted you to get back live." "I had to get him to lower ground, I got him into another crater, the crackle of gun-fire overhead, I prop him up, I had to push and shove to get him there. I am wet and cold with sweat. It smells of damp and blood down here. There are dead men all over. I'm shaking again. I don't see or hear the shell-burst, one minute he's there next I am punched into the earth, the blast threw me back onto a ridge and I survived, if I had dragged him a little farther past the crater he would have lived too. The rain of earth pattered down on me, for a long time I didn't hear anything. They got me down in to a dugout and gave me tea with rum in it my clothes were rags they laid me on a blanket, the Sergeant's face was close, I tried to say I wasn't wounded but the Sergeant was already moving away and darkness closed in" That was your dad the first week we married. But he's okay now. He enrolled at Coventry Drill Hall, was examined, given a uniform, marched and drilled as if they were killing Germans every minute of the day - two weeks later the rain was coming down as they then marched to Coventry Station, there were crowds clapping and cheering them. The train took him out of Coventry, something he'd never done before. In London they sat in a siding while hospital trains passed by. In France they had more training then were sent up to the front line, but you can ask him about the army but don't mention the dreams.