The Green has always been recognised as the centre of the village and undoubtedly has grown and spread from this point over the last two centuries, but, previously to this, the real start and growth before this was the surrounds of our two churches which both go back quite a long way. At this time of living on The Green we attended as we became old enough the village school (now St Andrew’s Community Centre) on School Hill and I still remember the names of some of our teachers: Mrs Churchill (Head); Miss Churchill, Miss Sally Todd and Miss Lever. We must have been taught the three R’s pretty well for I did not feel out of things later when I went to the County School in Cambridge.

At this period of time the seasons were very different to now for we had very hard winters but good summers. Much of our clothing was made at home and even our shoes in the village by Bill Bedingfield, but we made a trip with father once a year for our best suits, etc. There were no buses, only a carrier’s cart plying from the next village, Cottenham, unless one took the train to Cambridge and then by horse-drawn tram to the centre at Market Hill; more often than not it was a case of just walking. Whilst we lived on The Green my father’s business grew to such an extent that he was able to build Red House in Impington Lane at a cost of around £500, and although I did not care much for this, as it seemed like leaving the first real playground that I had enjoyed, Impington Lane at that time was a lovely lane of orchards and fields, but few houses. When we moved here with its two acres of open field where sweet peas were grown for the cut flower market, we were surrounded by orchards which ran right through to Cottenham and the other way in Impington to almost Milton and Landbeach. Now my father was breaking into the seed business with breeding new sweet peas and so could afford to send me, along with my elder brother, Charles, to school in Cambridge. We walked the mile to Histon station, then from there up Hills Road to the County. I went there at the age of 11 and stayed for just over four years coming home to work at the age of nearly 16.

I cannot say that I really enjoyed my school although I was perfectly happy and very much enjoyed my introduction into real sport, football, cricket, rugger and running, at which I excelled in the sprints, winning several firsts for my house. These sports were to last only two seasons for I was accidentally shot in the right thigh by one of my friends using a revolver going to school in the train. What a commotion when we pulled into the station. I was loaded on to a stretcher on bicycle wheels and pushed through the town down to Addenbrooke’s Hospital (then Trumpington Street). Here the bullet was removed by a Dr Wherry and after 14 days I came home and then went for a holiday to that friend’s house. I was straight-legged for some months and just got to playing games again before I left school for good. I enjoyed biology (which included gardening) under Dr Dawson for the last six months, when she became ill. I was detailed to take all her classes out of doors. She gave me my first insight into cross-fertilizing flowers, etc. and I became so interested as to help my father, who was then working on culinary peas, and it was from these crosses, made by both of us, which eventually resulted in the breeding of one which became Onward.

I was not at all happy when I left school to come and work at home, for my father wanted me to spend half my time inside and half outside. The very thought of sitting and working inside made me unhappy so I said I would much rather rough it outside in all weathers. He undoubtedly realised how much I was still interested in my Uncle Walter’s farm and so my first winter was spent hand digging a four acre open orchard along with two others. I shall not forget the backache of the first few weeks, but that soon passed and I was not called inside.

During the summer of 1913 my Uncle (Walter) took us to look over a farm which I thought he was intending to buy for himself and I did not realise until sometime later it was not so. We were sitting at tea and my father asked what I had thought to the farm we had looked at and I replied “Oh, all right”. His reply was “Well, it had better be, for I want you to come to the solicitors tomorrow when I am going to buy it and you are going there to farm it”.

My grandfather (James) had at that time sold a milk round and so another Uncle (Arthur) was at a loose end and agreed to come and live with me there at this farm for a couple of years until he found another job. This made me very happy and I was pleased to be going to do a job I had always wanted, but along came the war and although I was exempt, I just ran away and joined up in the Royal Artillery. I was then 17½ and many of my pals had gone, so I suppose I had to be like them. Although I was tall and fairly well made, I had a job passing the doctors on account of my shot leg, which by the way was quite OK except for losing some muscle power which made me play with my left leg at football instead of the right as before. I was fortunate in a friend knowing the Colonel at the Cambridge recruiting office and he gave me a pass to Bury as they had only two vacancies for the RA and I was fortunate in getting one of these, which landed me straight away with some 60 police from the Lowestoft and Yarmouth area. After spending a week at Bury and getting thoroughly lousy from the filthy beds we went to the Midlands depot and then on to Dunfermline, where we stayed for six months in the Signals branch where we had been previously joined by lots of Scots, and policemen at that. After completing training 22 of us were sent to Catterick, my what a camp! However, we were then attached to gunners, etc. and formed into a Battery. After several months’ training as a Battery we were sent right down to the south coast at Lydd for practice on 6 inch field guns.

After a few weeks we were then taken over by officers for practice that we had never seen before, and it turned out that they were there to select a Battery for some special job, and we learned later that we were the chosen crowd and were to become 515 Siege Battery. Soon our new officers arrived and again more practice and their Major in command was no other than Major Gwilliam Lloyd-George. We were taken then up country to Newcastle into the Armstrong-Whitworth yards where we learned that our Battery was just one gun, a 15 inch naval barrel, mounted on rails. This was the same mounting as one found in the largest naval vessels and had an overall first shot range of 43 miles.

We drilled and more or less wasted our time up there for six months, and then we were sent into France to await the arrival of the gun which took another two months to arrive. In the meantime while waiting, and since our billets were cattle trucks on the railway lines, we converted them into good quarters with bunk beds, tables, forms, etc. and were very comfortable. When the gun arrived we were always on the move, anything from 50 – 60 miles behind the front lines, always making our moves at night. Even so, the Jerries used to find us occasionally and bomb us when they could, but luckily we had no direct hits, only near misses. It was now getting towards the end of the war and with the front always shifting it left us very few targets, but those that we did tackle were well and truly smashed. Our shells were of 15 cwt high explosive and left massive craters that several buses could have been lost in. I was very young at this time and suppose I quite enjoyed a lot of my time with a good lot of pals, but was more than pleased to be demobbed in January 1919, a few months before my 21st birthday.

I came home in the middle of the early morning, quite unexpected, and could not make it clear why I could not step into the house until I had taken off every stitch of my clothing in an outhouse (lice!!!). I went to bed and stayed there for 36 hours, as I had had no sleep for much longer than that. After a fortnight and buying my first motor cycle I went back to the farm, coming home for one night at each week-end. I was now happy again with my farming and after another year with my Uncle and Aunt, they left and I had to get a housekeeper. During the early 20’s I was quite fortunate to run the farm without making big losses, for farming in general went through a very lean time and many were completely bankrupt.

In 1927 the seed business had very much expanded in a general way and I was asked to come home and take charge of our farm here and also manage the vegetable, flower and bulb side of the business. This meant pulling up my roots but a much more secure living. This left me open to build my present home in Impington Lane (since demolished) and, at the same time, get married to Ethel.

All went well and I still kept my farm at Needingworth (near St Ives) which I eventually let to a good tenant. But, after three years, I was most unfortunate to suffer the death of my wife. For the next eight years, I once again resorted to living with housekeepers, and, had it not been for being able to throw myself into my business activities, I wonder what would have happened.

During this period our business had grown wonderfully and we had now become general seedsmen as well as supplying all kinds of bulbs in their seasons and sundries. I used to travel all over the country during the late summer, putting up displays of flowers and plants at most of the principal flower shows, rarely being awarded less than a Gold Medal. I had had a hand in producing many novelties such as culinary peas, tomatoes and, lastly gladioli which I specialised in for almost all my life here.

In the autumn of 1939 I married again and have had a wonderful happy life with Hilda and my son Richard.

During this second war I at once joined up with the Royal Observer Corps and served on Post C1 right the way through. It was certainly tough going looking after the business side and the ROC, for the vegetable side of the business became very important nationally. I, along with a few others, formed several allotment societies both here and in the surrounding villages and all but one are still going. After the war many sides of the business had naturally fallen away and so it meant almost starting all over again as egards flower seeds, bulbs, etc. but, within a short time, we were back to our pre-war standard and in fact soon extending and growing once more.