Peace Again
At work, now, there was no further need for fighting ships, so we switched over to building small harbour launches. They were especially interesting to work on as they had to be built from scratch, with no prefabrication.
Several of the men were now drifting back to their pre‑war jobs, but quite a number remained on the yard as ship-builders, preferring this to ordinary carpentry and joinery. After a time the demand for small ships such as our yard turned out grew less and less, and it became clear we should soon be looking round for other jobs. I contacted my former firm in Norwich, but found out that it was now all factory work, with all the outside erection jobs not likely to materialise.
The demand for new housing, as might be expected, was growing rapidly. What with replacing dwellings demolished in the raids and thousands of men returning from the forces, it soon became obvious that traditional brick houses simply couldn't be built quickly enough, and various types of prefabricated dwellings were appearing.
Charley, whose eldest son had thankfully survived his years on active service, still ran his little business. He came to see me, and told me that the building of some of the Swedish‑built wooden houses waswere being put out to tender in our area. He was seriously considering 'having a go' if I would go back with him, as I had had plenty of experience in this line before the war. I was all for it, and the upshot was that we put in a tender for a block of these which proved successful. We set on additional labour, and got cracking. The job was most interesting, rather like a jigsaw puzzle fitting all the bits and pieces together. The Swedes were past-masters at wooden houses, and they were well‑insulated, warm and comfortable.
I had one good laugh when inspecting the houses for any faults which needed attention, some six months after they had been occupied. I opened the gate of one particular house, walked round to the back door and was taken aback to see the tenant, an old-age pensioner, having a sluice down outside using a galvanised bowl on an old wooden table, just the same as he had done for many years in his former home.
"What on earth are you washing outside for?" I asked "when you have that nice bathroom and basin, and loads of hot water on tap". "Ar young Jack" he replied, "the old lady 'ont let me wash in there. She says I might datty that up!" Such was the pride taken in the posh new house.
After the wooden Swedish houses came the Airey type, nearly all concrete. I suppose the idea was to conserve timber which was in short supply. In my opinion they were not at all comparable with the wooden houses, except that the maintenance costs were lower. The next step was the arrival of the traditional brick and tiled council houses. Every Council had their own ideas of what the ideal house should be ‑ many opted for the old system of semi‑detached dwellings, not far removed from the old pre‑war types.
We were, I think, fortunate that our own local council were more forward‑looking, and appreciated the fact that now was the chance to get out of the rut with council-house design. Various types were designed and vetted, and finally an entirely new concept in terraced houses was accepted. They were well‑designed inside with all mod cons, but the big difference was in the general layout. The exteriors were at first colour‑washed in pleasing shades, and later in multi‑coloured bricks. Amenities such as play areas for the children were not forgotten, all neatly grassed, with decorative types of trees dotted around.
One of the first of these developments, in my own village of Ditchingham, was entered in a national competition and all of us involved ‑ the Council, the architects, and us as the builders ‑ were delighted when the project won one of the major awards.
All in all, the tenants were proud of their new houses, and took a lot of pride in keeping up the appearance. Even so, there were a few who blotted their copy-books, so to speak. I was amazed and saddened one day, when inspecting a house for possible defects, to find the whole house a dirty mess. The final blow came when I saw that the back door sill had been used as a chopping block and was cut clean through.
Several of the men were now drifting back to their pre‑war jobs, but quite a number remained on the yard as ship-builders, preferring this to ordinary carpentry and joinery. After a time the demand for small ships such as our yard turned out grew less and less, and it became clear we should soon be looking round for other jobs. I contacted my former firm in Norwich, but found out that it was now all factory work, with all the outside erection jobs not likely to materialise.
The demand for new housing, as might be expected, was growing rapidly. What with replacing dwellings demolished in the raids and thousands of men returning from the forces, it soon became obvious that traditional brick houses simply couldn't be built quickly enough, and various types of prefabricated dwellings were appearing.
Charley, whose eldest son had thankfully survived his years on active service, still ran his little business. He came to see me, and told me that the building of some of the Swedish‑built wooden houses waswere being put out to tender in our area. He was seriously considering 'having a go' if I would go back with him, as I had had plenty of experience in this line before the war. I was all for it, and the upshot was that we put in a tender for a block of these which proved successful. We set on additional labour, and got cracking. The job was most interesting, rather like a jigsaw puzzle fitting all the bits and pieces together. The Swedes were past-masters at wooden houses, and they were well‑insulated, warm and comfortable.
I had one good laugh when inspecting the houses for any faults which needed attention, some six months after they had been occupied. I opened the gate of one particular house, walked round to the back door and was taken aback to see the tenant, an old-age pensioner, having a sluice down outside using a galvanised bowl on an old wooden table, just the same as he had done for many years in his former home.
"What on earth are you washing outside for?" I asked "when you have that nice bathroom and basin, and loads of hot water on tap". "Ar young Jack" he replied, "the old lady 'ont let me wash in there. She says I might datty that up!" Such was the pride taken in the posh new house.
After the wooden Swedish houses came the Airey type, nearly all concrete. I suppose the idea was to conserve timber which was in short supply. In my opinion they were not at all comparable with the wooden houses, except that the maintenance costs were lower. The next step was the arrival of the traditional brick and tiled council houses. Every Council had their own ideas of what the ideal house should be ‑ many opted for the old system of semi‑detached dwellings, not far removed from the old pre‑war types.
We were, I think, fortunate that our own local council were more forward‑looking, and appreciated the fact that now was the chance to get out of the rut with council-house design. Various types were designed and vetted, and finally an entirely new concept in terraced houses was accepted. They were well‑designed inside with all mod cons, but the big difference was in the general layout. The exteriors were at first colour‑washed in pleasing shades, and later in multi‑coloured bricks. Amenities such as play areas for the children were not forgotten, all neatly grassed, with decorative types of trees dotted around.
One of the first of these developments, in my own village of Ditchingham, was entered in a national competition and all of us involved ‑ the Council, the architects, and us as the builders ‑ were delighted when the project won one of the major awards.
All in all, the tenants were proud of their new houses, and took a lot of pride in keeping up the appearance. Even so, there were a few who blotted their copy-books, so to speak. I was amazed and saddened one day, when inspecting a house for possible defects, to find the whole house a dirty mess. The final blow came when I saw that the back door sill had been used as a chopping block and was cut clean through.
posted by curlybonce | 2:22 pm
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