Speed dating southend on sea
(See below for parts II to XI, and click here for his personal observations on an army childhood.)'After he’d finished his apprenticeship as a shipwright at Hancock's Shipyard in Pembroke Dock [south-west Wales], Dad decided to become a soldier, like his father, who had served in the Royal Artillery for twenty-six years, and then for a further six years during the war in the Intelligence Corps as he was too old for active service.
And in August 1952, after having been married for almost four years, Dad and Mum were finally given a quarter in a block of flats in an area called Gretta, which was about 2 miles outside the town to the north-west.Because you couldn't get a pram into a bus or taxi in those days, rations in assorted packs were brought out to the married quarters on a daily basis in a 15-cwt vehicle.The distance to the city centre also meant that Vicky could not go to kindergarten for the remainder of their time in Trieste.'In the second part of his story (for Part I, see above; for parts III to XI, see below; and click here for his personal observations on an army childhood), Leslie Rutledge explains how his father, who was in the Royal Engineers, left both Trieste and the army in 1953 and returned with his wife and two young children to Wales, where Leslie was born.Dad then embarked on the four-day trip to Trieste via London, Harwich, Rotterdam, Germany and Austria.On his arrival, he joined 342 Army Troop, which belonged to the Royal Engineers' 66 Independent Field Squadron, and was stationed at the San Giovanni Barracks near the city centre.The military was called in to assist in the humanitarian effort needed to rescue, feed and evacuate the civilian population, and the Royal Engineers' squadron at Trieste, including Dad, was sent to assist the Italians in their hour of need.
The squadron was based at the town of Rovigo, the largest town in the area, where a makeshift camp of tents was set up as there was no other accommodation available.
The men worked an eighteen-hour day, only stopping working to sleep.
Shortly before Christmas, Mum heard a knock on the door and there stood Dad, totally exhausted, but glad to be home again.
When he was home on leave over the Christmas period in 1948, Dad and Mum were married at the registry office in Pembroke.
Dad then went to Malvern Wells [in Worcestershire] to continue his training, and Mum stayed with her mother at Number 8 Kings Street, Pembroke Dock, as it was not usual for lower ranks to receive a quarter in those times.
(My mother and the kids had gone straight to Blackpool from London.) In Blackpool, the family was housed in a room not big enough for two, let alone four; they were finding it difficult to understand why the army had sent them there in the first place.