Blog 36: Torcross to Dartmouth. "Memories, Like the Corners of your Mind".

Hello all

Thank you to Jennie's sister Julie for putting Jennie and I up and presenting us with a delicious roast pork dinner. As some of you will know, pork has a strange effect on my insides resulting in a build up of intestinal gases. I apologise to Julie for any memory of me that may linger.

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The walk from Torcross to Dartmouth has many family memories and I will write about these in this blog.



The first thing that the walker will discover on leaving Torcross to start the long plod along Slapton Ley is the tank memorial in the large car park.

The tank was retrieved from the sea.

This tank is part of a memorial for the 946 Americans who lost their lives in the sea off Slapton in an exercise called "Operation Tiger". This was an exercise to rehearse the forthcoming D day landings. The Slapton coastline was chosen because it closely resembled the Utah beach in Normandy.
Nine German E boats were responsible for the disaster that followed. Four tank landing ships were sunk or seriously damaged resulting in the great loss of life.
The news of the disaster was hushed up and was only released after the D day landings were complete.

About half way along the length of Slapton beach is a memorial and plaque, which was presented and erected by the United States Army. It reads-

THIS MEMORIAL WAS PRESENTED 

BY THE UNITED STATES ARMY

 AUTHORITIES TO THE PEOPLE OF THE SOUTH

 HAMS WHO GENEROUSLY LEFT THEIR HOMES 

 AND THEIR LANDS TO PROVIDE A BATTLE 

PRACTICE AREA FOR THE SUCCESSFUL

 ASSAULT IN NORMANDY IN JUNE 1944.

THEIR ACTION RESULTED IN THE SAVING OF

 MANY HUNDREDS OF LIVES AND 

CONTRIBUTED IN NO SMALL MEASURE

 TO THE SUCCESS OF THE OPERATION. 

THE AREA INCLUDED THE VILLAGES OF BLACKAWTON,

 CHILLINGTON, EAST ALLINGTON, SHERFORD,

 SLAPTON, STOKENHAM, STRETE AND TORCROSS

 TOGETHER WITH MANY OUTLYING FARMS AND HOUSES

My Uncle Gilbert and Auntie Hazel, together with their two sons, lived and farmed at Darnacombe Farm. As children, my sister Pauline, my two brothers Graham and Adrian and I would spend weeks of our summer holidays enjoying a different kind of life down on the farm. We all loved going there to have adventures which were not available to us in Totnes. 

I vaguely remember Uncle Gilbert talking to my dad about how their family were evacuated from their farm during the war.  In later times I filled in my knowledge of this by asking my mum and dad about what had happened. This is what I remember them telling me -

There was a rumour in the village that the Americans were coming and that they may need some places to stay. One day a jeep came down the farm lane and an officer got out and started walking around the farmyard looking in the various buildings. He said that they would receive instructions shortly. A few days later they received the instructions. They were to leave within a few weeks.

I can only imagine how this must have felt.

They left the farm for the rest of the duration of the war.

When they returned, they found that the Americans had replaced the roof of the barn and outbuildings and had put a new bathroom in the house. Also they had left various bits of machinery around the place including a jeep. 

I am told that my uncle Gilbert drove that jeep for many years and he turned it into a useful workhorse on the farm.

I remember walking across the fields with my parents, my brothers and sister, my aunt and uncle and my cousins Raymond and Leslie. We walked towards a place where the starlings were putting on a wonderful display or murmeration. The starlings were flying over the ley.

As I stood on the bank on the other side of the ley the other day, I was looking at the field in which we were probably standing all those years ago.

I believe that the field to the right of the picture could very well be the field in which we stood.

Both my Auntie and Uncle are dead now and I understand that the farm house and land have been sold.

My two cousins are both farmers but not at Darnacombe.

As I walked along the path, I was thinking about these times and about the evacuation and the loss of life. I spotted a single poppy fluttering in the breeze and walked over to take a photo of it.

For me, it was a very poignant moment and left a lump in my throat.

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The next memory came very soon after I left the area of Slapton sands.

After the strenuous climb up to Strete village, Blackpool Sands soon came into view.

Of all the beaches which, together with my mum and dad, Pauline, Graham and Adrian, we used to visit, Blackpool Sands was my favourite. Back in those days it was not as developed as it is today and it definitely was a sandy beach, unlike the tiny pebbles which make up the beach these days. 

I can remember the excitement of the drive to the beach from Totnes and the sight of the bay and the sea from the road as it winds down from Strete village.

 I also remember the sleepy drive home with the beginnings of sunburn tingling and that we were squeezed together in the back seat of the car. I don't think I ever managed to stay awake on the way back to Totnes.

I have a vague recollection that Alastair (who follows this blog from Australia) together with his sister Lindsey and his mum and dad (Norman and Rita) came with us on a trip to Blackpool Sands one day.

Happy days at the seaside!

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Memory number three.

This house is in the middle of the village of Strete. It is now called Caudells Cottage. It used to be a restaurant called Caudells. 

When Jennie and I were recently married, Jennie's parents, John and Mary, treated us to a meal there. It was their favourite place to eat when they wanted a real treat. As you can probably tell from the picture, it could only cater for a few people. In fact I think it only had two or maybe three tables.

Caudells restaurant was run by a husband and wife team (I'm not sure if they were called Mr and Mrs Caudell, but I'd like to think that they were). The restaurant was not licensed so diners were encouraged to bring their own wine, which we did. 

We arrived at Caudells and told "Mr Caudell" that we were present and handed over our wine. He then sent us across the road to The Kings Arms where we had a pre-dinner drink. Mr Caudell brought the menus to us in the pub and took our order while we sat there. He then returned later to tell us that our table was ready and we followed him across the road and took our seats at the table which was just beside the window.

Mr Caudell wore a white glove on one of his hands and walked with a very pronounced limp.

We never saw Mrs Caudell. She stayed in the kitchen and worked her wonders with the food, but we could always hear her moving about, and we could also hear the radio which she listened to as she cooked.

That particular evening it was absolutely pouring with rain. Looking out of the window we could see it bouncing off the road. Following a delicious meal, Mr Caudell asked if we would like a liqueur with our coffees and we made our selection. Neither of us expected what we saw next. 

Looking out of the window, we witnessed poor Mr Caudell limping back from The Kings Arms with a tray of liqueurs whilst balancing an umbrella in the other hand. I minute or two later, he arrived at the table looking ruffled and placed the drinks down on the table and left us to drink them. 

That vision of him limping across the road with our drinks became a favourite memory for all four of us and we often used to mention it. 

For me it was great stumbling upon Caudells Cottage.

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And on to Dartmouth.

No matter how many times I visit Dartmouth, it always looks beautiful and busy. 

I needed to get across The River Dart to meet up with Julie for a lift back to my van. She was collecting me from Kingswear at a place known as "the banjo" by the locals. 

Here's a tip from me - if you are crossing the river as a foot passenger, use the lower car ferry and not the passenger ferry. It's much cheaper and a lot more fun.

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My youngest daughter Lucy and her husband Steve (who also goes by the name of Bob) came to see Jennie and me today. I showed her a photo I took on the walk from Noss Mayo to Bigbury. I had decided not to use the picture on the blog, but they have persuaded me to include it. 

It is a sign that I found attached to a fence in some farmland.

So here it is -

Take it easy.

Rob

www.justgiving.com/fundraising/RobSetter