Published in the West Sussex Gazette on 28 February 2002.

I am a 66-year-old man, born 1st November 1934, who grew up in Angmering with memories of the war, etc. I have gathered my memories together and made them into a letter to my granddaughter Hannah in the hope that one day, perhaps after I have gone onto that great surfing in the sky, she will be able to get to know more about her old granddad.

DEDICATED TO HANNAH. Just to let you know a few things about the life of your old granddad, wrote Roy Green.

I was born in the back bedroom of no. 11 Water Lane in Angmering.

I really can't remember much about my very early life, and my memories only begin in 1939, when the Second World War started. There was a famous broadcast on the radio (no TV in those days) saying that this country was now at war with Germany.

My parents, probably like most people, seemed to expect German airplanes to be overhead and dropping bombs straight away. I remember it was late afternoon, and everyone was rushing around getting blackout material to put over the windows. I'm sure that most families were really worried as to what was about to happen, but me being about five years old did not realize quite what was happening.

Angmering in the thirties was a typical little village with four main roads spiraling out from the village centre. The village green had a few shops around it: two grocers, a fish and chip shop run by Mr & Mrs Norris, a chemist and a fresh fish shop.

Going north was the Arundel Rd, past St Margaret's church and Older school and on through the council estate. Going south was the Station Rd, terminating in one mile at Angmering Station.

The road going east was the High Street, the shop at the top was a newsagent cum whatever selling all odds and ends such as clothes, run by Mr. Stubbs. The road running north-east was Water Lane, the road where I was born. (Not in the road of course.) It went all the way to Patching.

The roads in the thirties were almost empty of cars. As a young boy I could roller-skate up and down all these roads without ever seeing a car.

In 1939, as well as the war starting, I was at the stage of starting school (you know what that's like). My school was Olders School opposite the church in Angmering, and it was a really nice old school; my schoolroom was a large room with a wonderful open coal fire to warm it.

Olders School opposite the church in Angmering

I think I will always remember that classroom, I used to love looking into the coals on the fire, and the smell of polished wood floor will last with me forever.

My teacher was a Miss Peters, a kindly lady with infinite patience, and she soon got to know us all by our first names. I'm not sure how many children there were in the class, but there seemed to be dozens of us.

There are certain smells, sounds and sights now that take me back to those early days: the smell of polished floors, the clink of a really heavy classroom door, the sound of collective excitement of young children, and of course that wonderful open fire. I could stare for hours looking into a REAL fire, but they are few and far between nowadays.

Published in the West Sussex Gazette on 28 February 2002.