WßD Part 2 Chapter Six ~ A Growing Family and Promotion by Desmond B Webb

Windsor Street Days

Chapter Thirteen

A Growing Family and Promotion

by

Desmond Budd Webb

PREAMBLE

by

Kenneth Thomas Webb

EARLIER THIS WEEK, I quietly worked on the family archive, not least because it causes me to step back from constant analysis of the crisis unfolding before us in Ukraine, the plight of forty million Ukrainians, the State of Emergency ratified by the Government of Ukraine this afternoon, including calling up its reserve forces to the Army.

I find myself often drawing parallels with World War Two, the years leading up to it, the horrendous battles fought in Ukraine both in 1941 when Nazi Germany invaded their ally, but also the counter-offensive in 1944-1945 by the Soviet Forces in their drive to the west, their ultimate goal being Berlin.

As I look at papers and documents in the archive, I sometimes find myself thinking of that man in his Berlin bunker or that megalomaniac in the Reichstag.

Then I’m pulled up short when with one eye on current news unfolding, and that infamous speech - a diatribe of twisted history - on Monday night in the Kremlin, my mind suddenly and silently runs the line as on an invisible newsfeed, the type we see in Oxford Street or in Times Square … that man in the Kremlin or that odd bod in Moscow devoid of reality.

I pull myself up short.

But then, today, the former prime minister of Ukraine being interviewed by Lyce Doucet of the BBC in Kyiv at 4 pm UK time, is deliberate and calculated in his evaluation. Adolf Hitler is referred to. It takes the BBC correspondent aback, momentarily, but the former prime minister was unrelenting. His warning was dire. We are dealing with another Adolf Hitler.

His Warning Was Dire

“We are dealing with another Adolf Hitler.”

The Prime of Ukraine to the BBC Chief International Correspondent Lyce Doucet

For those who know their history, that is a dread indeed. In other words, if the man is not stopped in his tracks right now, and he succeeds in seizing the Ukraine, it is merely a move in his step-by-step rebuilding of that decrepit old Soviet Union that brought misery to billions over 45 years, worldwide, with the Cold War.

“Between 1946 and 1991 the United States, the Soviet Union, and their allies were locked in a long, tense conflict known as the Cold War. Though the parties were technically at peace, the period was characterized by an aggressive arms race, proxy wars, and ideological bids for world dominance.”

— National Geographic

It is indeed a sober thought, that the same reference to Hitler has been made in the United Nations General Assembly this afternoon, at a meeting of Foreign Ministers.

Thus, this succinctly reminds us of the geopolitical situation in the 1960s, a time I recall of Dad telling me about the Civil Defence Police Mobile Columns in the event of a nuclear attack, showing me the various hand signals he used as a motor cycle outrider on those columns, and it shaped my thinking, as too, the family’s history in two world wars.

It was, therefore, a wonderful moment, when I moved an envelope this month and found beneath it, this two page typed letter, neatly folded into eight, written by my father to his mother. I wondered what I was opening, and immediately recognised the typescript of our Imperial Typewriter. Later, after the meeting with the Chief Constable, I remember the chevrons being sewn on in the living room by the light of the coal fire in our police house in Stroud; and my memory had presumed this would be Mum. Only when our elder sister Carol saw the letter did that little ‘fact’ receive a slight touch of the rudder and the creese duly ironed out … That’s amazing Ken. I remember sewing Dad’s stripes on and I felt so proud and grown up.

This is when a family archival is a delightful pastime.

This letter was also very important for another reason. Dad’s father had died suddenly on September 11, 1961, following an operation for a strangulated hernia. I would not have understood the importance of this letter at the time, although Carol would have; but Vanessa and I were five and nine respectively. We’d have just known that Dad was NOW A POLEEEECE SAAARGENT … and don’t you forget it …. in the playground!!!!!!! He-he!!

Here is Dad’s typed letter, and I now sign off, and let Dad take up the story again. It has been good to pop in and see you all, protem. Thanks for reading. The original is now neatly folded back into eight and returned to a rapidly organising family archive. Mission accomplished, … … and on going.

Kenneth Thomas Webb

Dear Mum … page 1 December 12, 1962

Dear Mum … page 2 December 12, 1962

The Story Continues

Desmond Budd Webb

I HAD NOW been appointed to a specialist department of the police force as a traffic officer. This involved the daily patrol in the County of Gloucestershire for the purpose of the prevention and detection of crime and other offences. Having previously undergone a two month CID attachment (Criminal Investigation Department) for the purpose of assessing an officer’s suitability for this type of work, I turned down the invitation to pursue this area of police work in preference to the Traffic Patrol Section, which had always been my ultimate aim.

Once in this department, I had the good fortune to be selected to train as a driving instructor  - specialising in motorcycles - where I achieved notable recognition in Lancashire, and later was responsible for setting up an Instructor’s Course in police main road motorcycling at Devizes, Wiltshire, and which I’ve mentioned earlier.

“… I had the good fortune to be selected to train as a driving instructor - specialising in motorcycles - where I achieved notable recognition in Lancashire…”
PC 546 D B Webb on the left of the line of Police officers in Lancashire.

In 1960 I was posted to Stroud, a beautiful part of the Cotswolds, and remained there until my promotion to Sergeant in December, 1962, when, in early January 1963, we all moved into a temporary police house in Welch Road, just off Hesters Way, Cheltenham, and moving again into a newly built police house completed nine months later at Robert Burns Avenue, Benhall.

Here the family remained, until the opportunity arose for Nancy and I to buy our own property. During the time I was at Stroud I became friendly with the garage proprietor whom I had first met when a member of a Motorcycle Club in Cheltenham, way back in 1945.

As you will all now realise, I had always had a passion for motorcycles and dearly wanted the opportunity to compete in scrambles, now renamed MOTO CROSS , but could not afford it.

However, now at Stroud, and reacquainting myself with my old friend, we both got together, bought our respective machines and entered into several events, enjoying every minute of this pastime, but occasionally finding it very demanding.

This all came to an end when my promotion took me to back to Cheltenham, leaving little time for club activities and motorcycling.

*

1961 to 1966 was a very sad time for the family, since my father and mother had passed away respectively. My daughter Vanessa was aged 3 ½ years when her grandad died and nine years when her grandmother died. Carol and Ken were older.

This was about the time when Ken decided to join the Air training Corps (ATC). 1 May 1968, in fact.

1966 - 1968 - 1969 and very proud of the wings - 1971 following his father’s foosteps - 1973 - following his Grandfather’s footsteps, and 1989 following the foosteps of his three RAF Uncles

Little did he know that this was to be the start of a long career with the ATC which ultimately led to his being commissioned into the Royal Air Force Volunteer Reserve – ironically, in the footsteps of his two uncles, Ken and Harry, who also proudly wore the VR on their lapels - and attaining the rank of Flight Lieutenant, progressing to become commanding officer of the squadron to which he first joined. I jump ahead at this point, while I am on this subject, to say that this led to two further squadron commands, including the squadron that his Uncle, Harry Marshall, had served in as a cadet sergeant before stepping up to the RAF Volunteer Reserve as No 1337884, before Ken finally decided to resign the Queen’s Commission and retire from active service life in 1991-2. All told, he had served for twenty-one years.

He had been offered an appointment as a staff officer within the Bristol and Gloucestershire Wing of the Air Training Corps but this would have involved a lot of time and travelling, in addition to his commitments associated with his being a Gloucestershire police constable and later as a junior lawyer – a Fellow of the Institute of Legal Executives.

Returning to his police career, by now, his prospects in the police force were looking very good. His ability had been recognised and, likewise, qualifications had set him on the road for promotion. He had been engaged as an acting sergeant at Cheltenham, after which he was posted to Stow-on-the-Wold, with quarters over the old police station down the hill, at Morton in the Marsh, 25 miles from Cheltenham. This distance, and the varying hours of his police duties, combined with his attempts to run his squadron, may have contributed to the breakdown in health which, sadly, and very regrettably led to his discharge. He was, however, highly thought of, and this was proved by the Police Federation very successfully obtaining an ill-health police pension for the duration of Ken’s life. At 27, this was quite amazing, and much work was done by the Police Federation Force Representative, PC Ronald Spencer – with whom I served – and also Ken’s Divisional Commander, Chief Superintendent Paul Dadge, two officers to whom both Nancy and I, and Ken, are indebted.

There may be many underlying aspects to this side of the story but only Ken has the knowledge and light to determine them. One of the praises Nancy and I feel, is the pride that we both experienced when Ken, as a young police cadet and competing in the Police Cross Country Championships, came in first for Gloucestershire and winning the bronze trophy, and later that year, undertaking the gruelling 34 miles Barking (London) to Southend-on-Sea Road-Walk, completing the walk in 6 hours 45 minutes. His determination was outstanding and which was duly recognised by his being awarded Top Male Cadet, the award that year, the Cadet of the Year Award going to one of the young ladies. How history repeats itself, when I recall my own achievement but pipped to the post, in 1950.[1]

Wonderful Memories - Class 236A 1972

Going forward to 1971 to Sadie's entry into the family. She was a German Shepherd (Alsatian) with a wonderful pedigree, registered with the Bristol Kennel Club as Letitia Freeford, born on the 4th July (1970). I still have documentation and books on this breed and at one time, may well have replaced her after her death in 1984 when she was 13 ½ years. She was a treasure to behold and I did a watercolour painting sketch that surely captures the true likeness of this magnificent member of our family. One day, the painting may pass to my granddaughters, and so far as Sadie is concerned, and to us all, in all branches, Sadie will always be that character and personality, that total love and devotion.

Sadie - Registered Pedigree German Shepherd (Alsatian) with the Bristol Kennel Club in the name of Latitia Freeford.

1972 is an important year in the Webb calendar. This is the year My eldest became married and which I will write about in Chapter 14, Ken also passing out as a police constable at Chantmarle in Dorset seven days earlier.

by

Desmond B Webb

Windsor Street - Pittville - Bishops Cleeve - Bredons Hardwick - Toddington - Brambridge

Police Sergeant 546 Des Webb - Gloucestershire Constabulary 1967

[1] It is very important to understand the different mode of thought in those days. Today, men and women compete on equal terms. That is how it should be. But I do recall being reminded by my instructors: “Cadet Webb, whilst you have not been awarded ‘Cadet of the Year’ because Miss J has that honour, nevertheless, you are the runner-up, and that means that you are in fact, this year, our top male cadet.” That was good enough for me, and all credit too to H. But I was also learning about diplomacy. Such an obvservation would not be mentioned to my friends on the course – I’d never survive! And after all, they were my friends. KTW

18 May 2022
All Rights Reserved

© Kenneth Thomas Webb 2022

Second Edition : Published 1 July 2020