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Bob Margetson lived in Stratford and often went fishing at nearby Wanstead.
As a young boy, 8 years of age in 1946, I loved going fishing, either with my brother George, my sister Ellen or some members of my 'Gang'. Our main fishing venue was at a pond, which was by the side of a pub called 'The Green Man' at Wanstead.
We didn't have fishing nets but we got around this by using a bit of sacking as a compromise. Our method of catching fish was thus ... Two of us would hold each end of the sacking and drag it under the water.
It was surprising what we caught, for among the sticklebacks and minnows we would also catch dogfish, catfish, crayfish, water fleas and leeches, among other odd-looking creatures.
My brother and I would put a few sticklebacks and minnows in an old tin can half-filled with water and take them home with us. We lived at 14 Union Street, Stratford, East London, which was about 3 miles from Wanstead.
Needless to say by the time we reached home half the fish were dead. After discarding the dead fish we would put the live ones into an old tin bungalow bath, which was in our back yard. The fish would only last for a few days, so when they were dead we would go fishing again.
After doing a few errands for our neighbours one day we had enough pocket money to buy ourselves a fishing net, which cost 6d. It was on that same day when my sister Ellen, my brother George, myself and a couple of mates went to the canal at the bottom of Wharton Road, Stratford, to do a bit of fishing with our new fishing nets.
We fished the canal bank where there was a furniture polish factory. This particular spot was very slippery, as there were old discarded polish cans and the odd loose polish scattered around where we were fishing.
My sister saw a fish swimming just beyond her reach but this did not deter her from trying to catch it. She stretched out as far as she could in an attempt to catch this fish, but by doing so she slipped on the greasy bank, lost her footing and fell into the canal.
All we could see of her were her legs sticking up in the air. The rest of her was submerged in the water; apparently her head was stuck in the mud. We managed to pull her out by her legs and rushed her home so as to clean herself up.
She was in a terrible mess and crying her eyes out, but the rest of us fell about laughing at her. She never did come fishing with us again. Can't think why?
I war 9 years old in 1947 and I vividly remember the 'Big freeze' of that year. Coming from a poor East London family I was then going around with pieces of cardboard in my shoes, as the soles were full of holes.
I was also going around with holes in my short trousers, in my shirt and in my jacket. The only bit of warm clothing that I possessed was a woollen balaclava; at least it kept my ears warm!
My parents could only rely on getting second-hand clothing for my brothers, sisters and myself from the Church Army. Now and again they would come to our house with some clothing for us. Most of it was ill-fitting but still was appreciated.
My dad was breaking up most of the furniture so as he could fuel the fire to keep the rooms warm. As the winter was worsening my dad eventually ran out of furniture so finally he tore up the lino and burnt that as well.
This resulted in our having to sit on the bare floorboards to eat our meals (huddled up to the fire).
There was a gas works at the bottom of the street where on a Saturday they would sell coal or coke to the public. The queue to get coal was horrendous, as everybody was desperate to get some form of fuel.
On the very rare occasion, when my dad had a few shillings to spare, he would order my brother George and I to go down to the gas works to get some coke. (He could never afford coal, as it was dearer.)
We took an old pram with us so as to carry our sack of coke back home. We had to join the long queue and almost froze to death in the thick snow and ice. By our having no warm clothing it made matters even worse.
Each customer was only allowed 28lbs of coal or coke at a time. If you needed more then you would have to queue up again. George and I sometimes would queue up several times for a neighbour just so as we could earn ourselves a few pennies for our sweets or comics.
Due to the freezing weather every water pipe in the street was frozen solid. I remember having to get buckets of water from a stand-pipe that was in the middle of the street. I remember too that the water had to be boiled before we could drink it.
Bob Margetson, Cambridge, 2002
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