Just one more thing

 

There seems to be some interesting links on this page:

 

http://www.sanhs.org/HomePage.htm (see links)

 

Found a link to http://www.old-maps.co.uk/

Which shows an old Quantock Lodge (maybe it even shows the old orchard that Peaster dug up?)- and a useful grid reference:

 

... I've downloaded a copy of the map if you are interested

L

 

Very easy. All you have to do is hit edit "edit this page".

 

You will then be taken to page that will contain the text.

 

You can then edit it.

 

Note the page will loo a little different to the "article" page. There is some simple code embeded into the page - i.e. tell the page where images can be found.

 

Have a tweak and you'll get the hand of it.

 

You could start/edit a captain pugwash page!!

 

Mike

before you save hit the preview button to make sure it makes sense!

   

---

From: "Mike (Blakey)" <[email protected]>
Reply-To: "Quantock School old Boyz and Girls" <[email protected]>
To: "Quantock School old Boyz and Girls" <[email protected]>
Subject: Re: Quantock history (revisited)
Date: Tue, 31 Oct 2006 02:22:11 -0800

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	New Message on Quantock School old Boyz and Girls

Quantock history (revisited)

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From: Mike (Blakey) Just one more thing   There seems to be some interesting links on this page:   http://www.sanhs.org/HomePage.htm (see links)   Found a link to http://www.old-maps.co.uk/ Which shows an old Quantock Lodge (maybe it even shows the old orchard that Peaster dug up?)- and a useful grid reference:   Grid Ref: 318928,137536

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Hi Bri,

Another bit of Quantock history

 

"

Witness: Mrs. Marjorie Wild, Devon resident nursing in Somerset

In 1943 my husband (who was in the army) and I (a wartime nurse) managed a few days leave together and revisited a favourite holiday venue, which was a farmhouse at Instow, North Devon. We got about by bus and on foot and one hot day we were on the cliffs somewhere near Hartland Point, when I spotted what looked like the body of an airman on the beach below. Ted went down for a closer look, and confirmed that it was an unfortunate airman, whose body had been in the sea for a long time. I said that we must prevent it from being lost again to the incoming tide, feeling that whatever the man’s nationality, he was some mother’s son, and she would want to know of his death. Ted refused to let me help him try to move the body, so we set off on the longish ascent, in great heat, back up the cliffs until we came at last to a house with a phone from where we rang the police, giving them the number of our farmhouse so that we could know the outcome. Later that day a police officer rang to say that they had been able to save the body, and that he was a German. Enemy or not, I felt that we’d made the effort.

Having been called up at 19, I opted for nursing and began as a student nurse at Queen Mary’s Hospital for Children at Carshalton Beeches, Surrey, in 1942, a few months after my marriage I was the only married nurse. After a year or so, in the course of which we experienced a great deal of bombing, my husband was transferred from the North country to help staff a prisoner-of-war camp at Goathurst, near Bridgewater, Somerset, and his mother and grandmother evacuated themselves from Croydon and the ‘buzz-bombs�?to the village of Spaxton, renting rooms from the resident farmer and family. So I obtained permission to leave Queen Marys on condition that I continued nursing, and I joined my in-laws at the farmhouse, and joined the staff at Quantock sanatorium, a three mile bike ride away. (the matron at the hospital in Bridgewater refused to employ me as she wouldn’t take married nurses). My husband used to cycle from Goathurst for days off duty with a precious ‘sleeping out�?pass.

I had very little spare time as we were on the wards for nine hours a day. We had half a day off a week, and a half day off on alternate Sundays, and once in seven weeks we had two days off, a blissful time when I didn’t have to get up at 5.45AM.

The rural cycle rides were unpleasant in times of bad weather, but a joy in spring and summer, when I would hear 3 or 4 nightingales. The sanatorium in the Quantock Hills was a beautiful building, formerly the stately home of the Stanley family. I was told that the last son gambled away his inheritance and the County Council brought the place. Most of the male patients were ex-service men, whose service conditions had brought on TB, and one had been a miner in the Mendips. I was the only non-resident nurse and the only one who hadn’t had TB, so I was encouraged to drink lots of milk and eat lots of milk puddings, to the detriment of my figure! The nearest villages were Over Stowey and Nether Stowey, where the poet Coleridge lived at one time.

When, mercifully, the war ended, my mother-in-law returned to Croydon (granny had died). I was physically unable to cope with the long hours, the journeys and keeping house as well, so I asked to be part time, but this wasn’t allowed, so I had to leave, and until Ted was demobbed, and we also returned to the Croydon area.

I enjoyed the village life. I used to sing at concerts, possessing a good soprano voice (modelled on Deanna Durbin!), and I accepted an invitation to sing one Sunday at the village chapel, to the horror of my landlady ‘You, a church girl, going to chapel!�?Life at the farmhouse was pretty primitive, oil lamps, candles, no main drainage, and the water had to be pumped, so in many ways it was good to leave the West Country and get back to electricity and all mod. cons."

http://www.devon.gov.uk/localstudies/100331/1.html

Cheers

 

Laurie