I don't think they would believe it nowadays?

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Yes what Tom said, sounds like you’ve got your head screwed on, but then you live in North Yorkshire and it’s more common there. Any ideas what you intend to do with your life yet? Edit, just had a thought you don’t live on a farm by any chance do you?Ian

no i dont live on a farm!

i have got a fairly good idea, i want to go into school fit out, i have worked at a company before that does this, and i really enjoyed it.
 
@Cabinetman school fit out is basically going into a school, ripping out an area that needs updating, areas designated by the school, and then refitting with new and updated equipment, usually washrooms and suchlike, although sometimes other things come along, such as making an new school building, e.g. separate classroom outside

a good mix of construction really
 
My first troop was affiliated to a C of E church - it was one of its acolytes we had to to watch. :)
You read these horror stories on child abuse and how coaches/scout leaders/churchmen/politicians used their power to cover things up. Most of us escaped that fate thanks to the rumour mill and an innate sense of who was dodgy. There were a few teacher you did not want to be alone with. Doggy swimming lessons etc. Its sad to read about the really cunning and devious and what they got away with.

On a brighter note - in more naive times
As youngsters wandering our village, we used to call on an old stable hand. He lived in a kind of flat/come cottage in a stable yard for a big house. He was an elderly bachelor and would make us a cup of tea on the coal fire and chat to us, especially in the winter months when it was cold and dark. He was known a Ward in the village- probably he surname. Aged 5 or 6, whenever my mum couldn't find us and it was time for tea, she would call round at Wards to collect us. He was a very kind old chap with lots of reminiscences that he would tell us. He was an absolute gent and never did anything that was not kind. He liked a chat after a hard days work. I've looked back and thought, he had no ill intent, it was just how people got along back then. Lots of time for others.
Sadly you just wouldn't trust someone like that to belfried young kids these days.
 
Tomindales said " Sadly you just wouldn't trust someone like that to befriend young kids these days. "

It is so sad today, I used to like listening to the old guys you learnt such a lot from them.
 
You were all incredibly lucky, that was a really dangerous thing to do as I’m sure you realise now. Makes the things I did look really time thank goodness. Ian
Lucky indeed! When American troops left my area some of the older lads found a cache of ammunition. The location was never revealed to us younger kids, but we were enlisted occasionally to remove the bullet and empty out the cordite. I seem to remember the bullets as being made of lead, but I thought lead was banned? Maybe the lead was melted out of a copper-jacketed bullet, but either way we never got to keep a share - the big lads took it to the local scrap man. It's a long time ago, but from memory the cartridge case was made up of thin metal foil and cardboard - can that be right? I reckon the rounds were about the size of a 0.50-calibre round, possibly a little bigger. Boy, we did some stupid stuff.
 
We had an after school shooting club that met occasionally, it meant taking a bus to Kibworth range, which I think was run by the army. From what I recall the two most common rounds back then were .22 calibre and .303 in the UK that is inches, the US after ww2 had a higher pressure .3 inch round of 7mm for M1 carbine, but switched to a recoilless .222 round or 5.5mm in the 60s the M16. All had lead overcoated with copper/nickle rounds and a brass type casing as far as I recall.
If it was a carboard casing and 0.5 calibre, that might mean that some of the ammo were shot gun rounds or something specialist. Steel has replaced lead in some EU countries but its still used in others, it will eventually go for environmental reasons.
A friend used to re-fill the spent .303 rounds casing with gun powder and mercury fulminate to see how they would go up. The fulminate was high explosive and caused a lot of damage to the packing cases that were pile on top of it.
In those days you could walk into Boots (the chemist) and buy saltpeter, sulphur and charcoal without anyone asking questions. when it was pretty obvious how it was going to be used. As said before, this stopped when he got a bit of shrapnel in his hand.
 
When I was a lad I used to be a pheasant beater to earn a bit of cash and I have fond memories of the lunch time when we were given a plowmans lunch and a bottle of beer that we eat in a stone barn on the estate and the old guys mostly retired farm hands and gamekeepers had the most amazing stories to tell.
 
You read these horror stories on child abuse and how coaches/scout leaders/churchmen/politicians used their power to cover things up. Most of us escaped that fate thanks to the rumour mill and an innate sense of who was dodgy. There were a few teacher you did not want to be alone with. Doggy swimming lessons etc. Its sad to read about the really cunning and devious and what they got away with.

On a brighter note - in more naive times
As youngsters wandering our village, we used to call on an old stable hand. He lived in a kind of flat/come cottage in a stable yard for a big house. He was an elderly bachelor and would make us a cup of tea on the coal fire and chat to us, especially in the winter months when it was cold and dark. He was known a Ward in the village- probably he surname. Aged 5 or 6, whenever my mum couldn't find us and it was time for tea, she would call round at Wards to collect us. He was a very kind old chap with lots of reminiscences that he would tell us. He was an absolute gent and never did anything that was not kind. He liked a chat after a hard days work. I've looked back and thought, he had no ill intent, it was just how people got along back then. Lots of time for others.
Sadly you just wouldn't trust someone like that to belfried young kids these days.
In 1943 I used to walk home from primary school which was about a mile. A government directive was issued to say that if the Air raid sirens sounded whilst we were walking home we should run to the nearest house knock on the door and stay in the house until the All Clear was sounded.
These days I think I would rather take my chances with a bomb.
 
In 1943 I used to walk home from primary school which was about a mile. A government directive was issued to say that if the Air raid sirens sounded whilst we were walking home we should run to the nearest house knock on the door and stay in the house until the All Clear was sounded.
These days I think I would rather take my chances with a bomb.

The best thing about primary school was walking to and fro with a bunch of like-minded urchins.
Most boys were a bit on the mischievous side. It was considered normal. ADHD wasn't invented yet.
 
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