Crier Profile
No. 3: SID PRINCE
SID PRINCE was born in Swaffham Prior and has always lived here apart from a short spell in the war. He has lived in Greenhead Road since 1957.
I was born in 1921...I'll leave you to work out how old I'm getting!
I call it a dying village. Once upon a time in Swaffham Prior you could get anything you wanted bar clothes. But you could buy cloth, at two shops in the village. There'd be butcher's, sweetshops, shoeshop. There used to be a cobbler, but my dad used to buy a piece of leather and mend our shoes. You could buy a square of leather. He used to sit there with an old hobbing iron and mend 'em. He'd cut it off and nail it round. There was a nurse in the village when I went to school. Four pubs, and one down the Fen, the Cherry Tree. That used to do a good trade during the summer. My dad, he could remember eight in the village. There used to be one up that house, what they called Croft. And opposite the CarpenterÕs shop, that was called the Cow and Calf. Then there used to be another one, just the other side of the Lion...and they used to get a living. There were a few that would bike to Cambridge, on the building; farms - Ambrose, he employed a lot of men, and so did Mr Woollard... Woollard had one farm, Arthur Yarrow had a farm, I think he employed about three or four.
When I left school at fourteen there wasn't a lot of work for youngsters
but I had a job to take the papers round. Well, there weren't many houses
those days - then I'd carry on and deliver at Reach. Then twice a week,
with a grocery van, I used to come round with him. Three half crowns he used to
give me, (laughs) six days I'd deliver the papers, then in the afternoon I
used to work down the parson's, the Vicarage, the Reverend Hills's, in
his garden, five days, so I used to have six half crowns a week (laughs) - I
was well off! Dad, he was a baker, used to work for Mr Low. Mum worked on the
railways during the war as a guard - she'd get the train down here to
Cambridge, then she used to be a guard to March. There used to be four trains a
day from Cambridge, used to go right through to Mildenhall, and there used be a
goods train. You always knew what time it was - cause some of us didn't
have watches - we used to see that old train, we used to say, there y'are,
it's getting on so-and-so. There used to be buses, two bus services we had.
It didn't cost much to go to Cambridge, two or three coppers I think. You could go on the train from Swaffham Prior to Cambridge for three pennies. My grandchildren don't believe what I tell 'em! See, everybody, them years ago, everybody seemed happy in Swaffham Prior, cause they were all on the same lines, the same monies. My dad being's a baker, he used get five shillings a week more than the farm workers. He used to get a golden guinea a week, that's a hundred and five pence. My brother, he was a piano tuner. He could play the piano; I couldn't play nothing, only ruddy cricket and football. I love sport. But I got smashed up in the war. I was in the Royal Armoured Corps. We finished up in North Africa, that's where I got smashed up.
I joined up seventh of February 1942. I had my 21st birthday in the army. I got
stationed at Newmarket. That was handy, I used to get me bike and bike home. We
went the February 43, Algiers, then we carried on up to Tunisia. There was four
of us. We'd been called up together; we'd been together all the
time...it was a ruddy aeroplane. We see these old Jerries fly round, never took
no notice of us. Course, they goes round and comes out of the sun at you. We
got machinegunned and these here little shrapnel wounds. Me mate got killed,
Parker; the other guy, Davis, had his leg blew off; and Salt, he only got a
scratch. We were near a forward base hospital. I don't pray but I think to
myself, Sid, you're bloody lucky. Parker, he died: Davis, I never knew
where he went. Nearly seven months in hospital, and I weren't no more good
so they chucked me out the army. I weren't sorry, but I had been looking
forward to having a good look round, in the army, for nothing. I come out and I
didn't do anything for a while because I wanted to get over all this, but
anyway, I got a job on the farm again, then I had a job for Crittalls, the
window people, doing jobs all round here, on the first stage at Addenbrookes
Hospital. then I got on the public works, roadwork, I had a few years with
them, we used to tarmac with a fork; then I got a job at a building firm;
Addenbrookes second stage was coming on, 1967. I got a job up there, 13 1/2
years up there, then the job got done.
It was hard work on the land them days. Now everything's changing and I looks back and I say what a change. It is! The whole village, years ago: you'd see people on a Sunday, kiddies all dressed up, going to chapel, then church - I used to go to chapel twice a Sunday; well, there weren't nothing to do so we used to go. You wouldn't see nobody working on a Sunday them days, nobody. No, Sunday was a day of rest.
My old dad, he used to start six in the morning till five at night. He went all through the first war; in the Royal Signals, running messages; four years there, come out with a clean record: so when I went he said Sid, remember, come out with a clean record. So that's what I did.
We used to play in the old meadow where the swings are now. That was our playground. A lot of kiddies used to get in there. We'd get two or three wickets in there and an old bat; then football come, we used to play football; we used to have a lovely old fair in there, after Reach Fair they used to come in that meadow. They used to come the Thursday and then Friday and Saturday the whole village would be packed, Saturday night. It used to be packed.
There used to be two schools near the church. One for the infants, one up till eleven. I started in the infants school, then I carried on in the other one while they were building the new one, then we moved into there. Some of the teachers were ghastly, they used to give you the cane! I've had the cane many a time. Mrs Davis, she wouldn't say anything but she'd come and draw a cane across your fingers. Now learn that, she said. Learn your lesson. But we'd get another one, next week. You know the little rulers a foot long, we used to flick plasticene at the headmistress. Her son used to sit next to me, and he were worse than me! He used to get the same. We used to act about in the school. It weren't any one who got the cane - we all used to get it! Teachers were really strict them days. You got the cane a lot down here, but when I went up to Burwell I never got the cane once. I seemed to change. I learned me lesson.
My wife, she came down from Manchester with the Land Army. There were three of them, Joan, that's Joan Bradley - Mary, and Irene. They came down together. Irene married my brother. Now I'm the only one that's alive now. She were one of the best. A good manager, everything. Fifty-six years I knew her; fifty-four we were married. First child, you never got no money. Second child, you got forty pence. Eight shillings.
I sit and think sometimes, forty pence. Now what do they get today? We used to go without to keep those girls tidy. They always came first.
When I went in the army I got one pound, seven and six a fortnight. People say how did you manage? Well, everything was cheaper then. My mum used to send parcels. I know me 21st birthday she sent a big box with a cake in - we sat in the barrack room and scoffed the lot. That's how it goes. You always see someone worse than you. I was very lucky, the surgeon said. Well, I got through it. I still do me garden. I dust all round. I try me best. You canÕt do any more, can you?