Published in the West Sussex Gazette on 9 September 2004.

Here Roy Green reveals fascinating facets from his formative years in Angmering, the fourth part of an educational letter he wrote for his granddaughter Hannah in 2001.

Towards the end of the war, German prisoners were put to work on local farms, wearing clothes with large bright orange patches all over then in order to be seen if they tried to escape. As far as I know none of them even tried; they were only too pleased to be out of the fighting.

We were not allowed to fraternize with these prisoners, but I know one or two relationships did develop; mostly they seemed very nice people. At times some of the prisoners who could speak English were allowed to come to the schools and give talks. They were not allowed to talk about the war, but of course many of them had good lives before being made to fight for Hitler.

The schools in Angmering had no real air raid shelters; we were drilled to get under our desks if there was an air raid overhead. I don't think this would have given much protection but better than nothing I suppose.

The war ended in 1945, and then parties were held in the Fletchers field opposite Angmering School for the village children. I seem to remember that there were plenty of goodies to eat, and of course the church bells finally rang out. They were silent during the war, only to be rung in the event of invasion.

I went to Older School, Angmering until I reached 11 years of age. Then we were bussed to Littlehampton to the secondary school. I suppose I really drifted through school, I did seem to get good results but not for the sake of really trying. I couldn't wait for the day when at fifteen I started work.

At the northern end of Water Lane, was a blacksmith workshop run by a man called Tommy Langsdale and his son Stanley. They were really in demand because things were in short supply; give them some iron or steel and they could make anything. They were real craftsmen, and could make the most amazing things that were required by farmers or garages. Not like today's throw away system.

The blacksmith's fire was fanned by a large bellows at the rear, with a handle that came to the front, to pull up and down to blow the furnace. The Langsdales let me pull the handle that kept the fire burning. I can still hear in my mind the sound of the hammer on the anvil and the smell of the coke on the fire.

During the evenings after school, and on Saturdays, I used to work in the garage at the south end of Water Lane. This is the BMW garage now. (Don't tell your dad, you know he hates BMW drivers.) It was here that I worked with a man called Jimmy Baker.He taught me a lot about cars, and we used to go all over the place on his motorbike to churches ringing the bells. Sometimes we rang in quite famous churches and once rang in Chichester Cathedral.

St Margaret's Church (where you were christened) was I suppose quite a special place for me as a youngster. I was christened and confirmed there, sang in the choir, and rang the bells. At times I also carried coffins for the local undertaker. (This paid the grand sum of 10 shillings or 50 pence in today's money.)

The local scouts also paid a big part in my early life. We spent wonderful camps under canvas in Savernack Forest. I played an old accordion for singsongs around the campfire, and we did all the cooking on an open fire.

Cheeseman's was the local grocery outlet in Angmering. To earn a few bob I delivered to their customers on a double carrier trades bike. A tricky bike this, if you delivered the goods from the rear carrier first, then the weight in the front carrier made things a little dodgy when going down hills, especially if I had to brake hard.

Cheeseman's grocery store at the foot of Church Hill in Angmering village, with the trades bike outside, leaning against railings.

This was in the days of course, when shops always delivered to their customers. For this job on a Saturday morning I earned two shilling and six pence (12 1/2 pence). Even so this paid for a night out at the flicks once a week at Littlehampton.

At times I also delivered meat for Wood the Butchers in a wooden two-wheeled truck. I remember one day I was coming down church hill at speed, when one of the wheels buckled and everything went A over T. The meat went all over the road, and although I managed to get it all back together, the tickets were all mixed up. Customers got all sorts of wrong deliveries that day.

The local scout troop put on a Gang Show in the Village hall once a year, a big village highlight, for there was no television then of course and everyone would turn out to see the show over three or four nights. The highlight of our troop was when we actually performed in the Albert Hall in London with a famous man called Ralph Reader. I actually played the ukulele. A proper little George Formby (Who ?)

Angmering Scouts' concert in 1954. Roy Green is the one playing the ukulele.