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Memories of a childhood in wartime Leith. The trials and tribulations of the period, allied to the camaraderie of the community in facing up to an uncertain future made a lasting impression on John Stewart.
My first year at Leith Academy was very enjoyable and I found the curriculum quite easy apart from Latin and Algebra. I loved English, Geography, and History. My marks were usually high in these subjects. However, this was to change.
To earn some extra pocket money, I took a job delivering 'messages' (groceries) on a Friday afternoon and a Saturday morning.
This was for a small grocery shop in Ferrier Street called Ferguson and Crighton, both of whom were members of the Salvation Army. Mr Crighton was later to become the first Convenor of the Lothian Regional Council.
I was still a member of the Salvation Army at this time but was beginning to resent my forced attendance at the Hall. I had to wear the mandatory red jersey with the blood and fire emblem emblazoned across the chest.
Although all my friends out of school knew of this, I am afraid to say that I dreaded my schoolmates finding out. I thought they would have mocked me.
My grandmother had died during my first year at the Academy and this made it easier for me to express my feelings. By the time I entered my second year, I had moved back in with my parents.
Looking back now, I think it was my second term onwards that determined my future career. I took a job with the local co-op in Henderson Street delivering milk in the mornings and messages in the afternoon.
The milk job was a seven day week affair, requiring me to begin at 5.45 am. I was earning between them, 19/- (95p) per week.
Each morning I would collect my two-wheeled cart from the yard and wheel it down to the storefront. There I would load it with quart, pint, and half-pint bottles full of milk.
Collecting my round book that told me of any changes in deliveries, I then set off pushing the load towards Pirie Street. I delivered to six tenement stairs there, all with four flights. With a steel milk basket nestling in my arms I would race up and down depositing full bottles and collecting empties.
Most times these empty bottles had been washed but there were one or two customers who didn't comply. These bottles smelt terribly of sour milk.
In the dark winter mornings, I would have attached to the side of the cart a paraffin lamp to warn off any overtaking cars and I should say horses as well. My delivery area was next to the cleansing depot and this still depended on horse-drawn carts.
In the summer, the co-op used to organise a milk boys' and roll girls' trip to Dunbar. We would all congregate at the Leith Central Station for the steam train journey to the coast. It was the highlight of our year.
All this extra-curricular work took its toll and my schooling suffered. I suppose I was too tired. My promising potential took a knock from which it never recovered.
Although I did enough to gain my Lower Leaving Certificate in 1949, I knew even then that I had let myself down. All thoughts of staying on and gaining University pass were dashed.
John Stewart, 2001
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