CONKERS TIME IS HERE AGAIN.

We love conkers and as you can see the conker loves us. The October walk has quickly come round again (how time flies as you get older) and as you can see I have been out on the traditional gathering in of the conker harvest. For the last couple of days I have been wishing for windy weather and hey presto my wishes have come true and the conkers have been falling like raindrops on my head. With Lady luck being so good to me I think I may have to buy a couple of lottery tickets this week, you never know I could win a tenner.

The conker competition was first held in 1995 the year the group first started and I thought to myself that it might be a good idea to see if we still enjoyed playing conkers. We had just climbed the hill up to the Jack and Jill windmills and everyone needed a break when I produced the conkers from my bag. That first competition was a very disorganised affair with the first one to win playing the next available player but after a while Mick Funnel emerged as the victor.

The picture shows Howard Whitling and Malcom Harriott against the wonderful background.

We didn't play in 1996 but have played every year since come rain or come shine and now the competition is much more organised. The following pictures show the winners from 2001 to 2006.

Mick Funnell at Chiddingly in 2001

John Weise in 2002 somewhere in the country.

Barry Chuter in 2003 held once again in Chiddingly during our 100th walk

Alan Wood in 2004

Mick looks very pleased with his third win in the competition in 2005

John Weise after his second win last year 2006

As you can see on the right this is the scroll of honour for all of the winners in the conker competition since 1995. Could you be in the space for 2007, don't forget you have to be in it to win it. See you on the conker walk on the 2nd October.

Who was "Dave Punchard by Ade Punchard

I joined the GPO in February 1963 in the London N.W. Area as a 16 year old Y2YC and started my career at Hendon. My first appointment was on UG Construction with some rather hairy, very masculine men. When asked my name I of cause proudly replied Adrian to which their response was “OOH where’s your hand bag sweetie”.

I soldiered on through U.G. Maintenance, O.H. Construction, etc ignoring remarks like “with a name like Adrian you should have been a hairdresser, is your hobby ballet dancing? and backs to the wall lads here’s Adrian” until I went on to Sub’s Apps. Fitting. Here I was put with a fitter who kept addressing me a “Dave” despite me correcting him for weeks. He had just lost a friend called Dave and I think he did it just out of habit. I was now introduced as Dave and all around took the lead and the name just stuck. I went on to become a TOIT on Internal Construction and was lucky enough to get a transfer down to the Brighton Area in 1967.

On my first day I reported to Jim Leake at Eastbourne, he asked my name to which I replied “Adrian”. “What?” said Jim, “Adrian” I replied again “Who? said Jim” “Adrian” I replied again” “No I didn’t catch that” said Jim. “It’s Dave” I said resignedly. “Welcome to Eastbourne Construction Dave” said Jim and that was that till I retired in December 1994.

Now I am a civilian again I am pleased to have lost my alter ego and I am now known once again by the name I was christened, Adrian shortened to Ade.

A RELAXED POSTING by Bob Milton

A relaxed posting to army wireless chain squadron in Ceylon(AWC).

There were AWC squadrons at Army HQ’s in England, Singapore, Egypt and Ceylon. Ceylon had been independent since 1947 but there were still remnants there. I was sent in 1949 to the transmitter detachment at Ekala, between Colombo and Negombo which at that time was still an RAF airfield.
When I got to Ekala no-one knew I was coming, and it was suggested that I should say hello to the OC, who seemed rather surprised when I saluted him. I found out that apart from pay parades it was not usually so formal.
There was an ex-boy radio mechanic in the transmitter hall whom I had met in Eastbourne when he visited his granny. At midday we went in a truck to where we were billeted in the Radio Ceylon compound. This used to be Radio SEAC. There were still BBC records surviving, which were once played by the DJ’s.

We went to the mess hall and I said where do we get served. I was told to sit down and Derek called out for “Willy”. Willy was one of the Sinhalese cookhouse helpers and at mealtimes he acted as a waiter for the English ‘Masters’, which was the customary way of addressing us. You can imagine that at the age of 19 I was a bit taken aback.

I found out that we were also served by a room boy named Sidaman who looked after our billet. He cleaned our kit and made our beds as well as sweeping up, he used to look after our laundry and do all sort of odd jobs for us. He was a lovely fellow and used to get many things like free fags and anything else which we didn’t want. He used to start his work before we were awake without disturbing us and used to bring back our laundry at the end of the day and clean our kit ready for the morning.

Another important chap was Peter the char wallah. On the minus side, Peter smelt rather strongly. One day someone gave Peter a big block of carbolic soap and a scrubbing brush, together with instructions. About two hours later Pete returned, smelling sweetly. The next day Peter was back to normal.

PROPER PROCEDURE !! by Bob Milton

It was in the middle of the night at Ekala in Ceylon. The Army had closed down the transmitters used by Army Wireless Chain Squadron that used to radiate to Singapore, Egypt, England and Australia. A couple of us were left to maintain the VF landline connections for the RAF and Navy transmitters nearby.

The transmitter hall

We were guarded by the Ceylon Army.
On this occasion I woke up and decided to have a walk about. I went from the billet to the transmitter hall which was next door. On leaving the transmitter hall, a voice called out “Halt, who goes there!" I saw the Ceylon Army sentry clearly about 10 or 12 feet away, as the site was always well lit at night. I replied “ Don’t be daft it’s me”
He responded “Halt who goes there” and this time I heard the sound of his bolt inserting a round into his rifle.
I called out “Friend !!”,---- he replied “Advance friend to be recognised”
I am glad he did recognise me when I advanced and that we were well protected.

The guard hut in the distance

A day not forgotten--- by Bob Milton

It was Saturday April 3rd 1943

I had been on an errand for my Mum to a shop in Crown Street, Old Town, Eastbourne. As was often the case there had been air raid sirens sounding, warning of a possible air raid. When I was leaving the shop the ‘imminent danger’ warning was sounded, it was called the ‘cuckoo’. I was asked if I wanted to go into the shop’s cellar to shelter. I lived only a little way away in Motcombe Road, so I jumped on my bike and set off. I had got as far as Motcombe Gardens when I saw some Focke-Wolfe 190’s with bombs hanging underneath them coming over the Downs towards the town. Jumping off my bike I lay in the gutter, (advised to be a safer place), and all was OK.
At about the same time Bob Oliver, a form-mate at the Grammar School had decided to shelter by a wall at the Saffrons sports ground. He saw Peter Horton, also in our form at school, go hurrying by on his bike. He went down South Street.
On Monday morning at school, I saw the next desk to mine was empty. We were told that Peter Horton had been killed in the air raid on Saturday.
That Saturday a surface shelter in Spencer Road just off South Street had been hit by a bomb. Peter’s bike was found nearby. Nothing was found of Peter, he was 12 at the time.
On that day the school secretary Miss Doris Hardwick was killed by another bomb in the Bourne Street area.

Some still think of it as "The good old days", may those days never return.

Focke Wolfe 190

I quite enjoy walking but - by Dave Page

Maria von Trapp once sang “The hills are alive with music”, she obviously had never been on one of our walks. I imagine she had been driven to the top of the hill by a friendly farmer in his land rover.

All I ever hear is the sound of puffing and panting (mostly me) and people saying I must stop to look at the wonderful view when they are really saying “I’m knackered, let me have a break”

I must admit in the past I have stood at the top of hills and enjoyed the wonderful countryside all around me, I think that the hills look lovely from below, from a distance and from the top but people that enjoy climbing them must have slight masochistic tendencies.
It must be marvellous to be a walker in Norfolk with all those flat walks and a mole hill looks too high to climb over. It may be a bit of a drive to start a walk but I think it might be worth it, we could leave Monday lunch time and be back in time for Countdown on Wednesday.

Some strange things happen at the tops of hills, people lose their inhibitions and regress back to their childhood and so the Prats Annual Conker Competition was born in 1995 near the Jack and Jill windmills above Ditchling. We attracted a lot of strange looks that day from people in the car park watching a dozen slightly elderly teenagers having a good time.

Although I now try to convince my fellow walkers that hills are bad I am still willing to have a go as long as they are not too steep and too long but I have made a vow that I will never, ever walk the Seven Sisters again as long as as I live.

A nostalgic trip by Bob Milton

During my recent holiday in Switzerland, I re-visited a small village across the Lauterbrunnen valley called Murren. It is overlooked by the Jungfrau, Monch and Eiger mountains.

Access to Murren is by cableway and Swiss mountain railway. It is also connected by a cableway to the Schilthorn, which featured in a James Bond film. Sir Alfred Lunn (of Lunn Poly) was involved in the beginning of downhill ski racing from the Schilthorn to Murren. Murren became a favourite for European royal families and the other rich people of those times.

Long before then, in October 1916 there was an influx of vastly different visitors. They were British ex-prisoners of war from Germany. The Swiss Red Cross had an arrangement with the warring countries, where they took unfit prisoners of war from both sides, into Switzerland and interned them there These internees were put in the care of doctors, to improve their health. When they were fit enough, but not fit for further military service they were re-patriated to their own countries. At Murren there was about 400 British ex-prisoners. Among them was my Dad, (second from right) He had been wounded and captured in France on the 14th September 1914. He was imprisoned in Germany until Oct. 1916. Later the Red Cross took some of the wives from England to Murren.)

Arrival of wives at Murren 1917 -among them was my Mum (in centre with white hat)

Mum & Dad on right, Hotel Regina also on right- one of the hotels Dad was in.

As you can see the hotel looks a lot different today.

The Tee shirt wearer strikes again, it's me, hoping to be recognised on the slopes of the Jungfrau

Another good day out by Roy Peacock

The LAWS walk on 12th June 2007

Our BT PRATS walks are usually very enjoyable so I tend to repeat them when I lead my wife Jill’s, LAWS (Ladies Afternoon Wednesdays Society) group walks. Their last walk on the 12th June was no exception. I decided to do the Ditchling to Plumpton Green circular we had done for our June walk because it was so scenic and easy going, and the drinks, food and hospitality at the Winning Post pub had been good.
We set off from Eastbourne in good time for a 10.15 start only to be subjected to extensive delay due to the road works at Beddingham unlike on the 5th June when I had a good clear run. On arriving at the village car park the recycling lorry was present so again we were delayed from parking while several cars were held in a queue unable to move. When it was possible to move all spaces had been either taken or were too small for my wagon except thankfully the place on the exit drive where I had parked before. I will leave you to ponder where I went first!
Boots on and mobile, first aid, sunglasses, drink and hat, clobber in pockets/ rucksacks on, we set off at 10.45. When out in the open country, where I had a mobile signal I rang the pub, and spoke to Nicole who remembered our PRATS visit. She was pleased to hear we were on our way but told me that they had no power. (Not again I thought. This had happened on a recce when calling at the Halfway House). EDF had promised the supply would be on again by 11.45 so Nicole thought that we should be OK for hot meals. We did not share her optimism!
Shortly after leaving the bridleway through the woods (Yes Alan, I again remembered where to turn off) in an open area, we met a rather dispersed group of walkers trying to find the way out for their return route to Ditchling. Needless to say I was able to help as they were intending to return over the route we had just covered. They were a mixed group from Chichester and Brighton with a guest walker (ex-Sussex) from Australia. I mentioned that we too had had an Australian along with us and also two ex-pats from Canada, last year. In conversation with them several remembered meeting some of the PRATS at High Hurstwood because of the “tee shirts”. It just goes to show that we get noticed if not for our behaviour, for our tee shirts.
On arrival at the pub at 12 50, we were greeted with the news of still no power. The latest forecast was 14.00. So we had a limited choice of hot meals to be cooked on a calor gas hob. They did us proud again. No complaints and definitely worth a return visit in the not too distant future. The group we had met are regulars to the Winning Post. They enjoy it very much and regard their prices as very reasonable. On leaving at 14.20, EDF were promising reconnection of supply at 15.00.

During the return trip we were treated to a hay turning and hay baling display, a challenging flock of sheep and lambs, a friendly pair of mare and foal and several other encounters with horses. All this with the sun at its brightest and the temperature high made for a tiring stint but one to be remembered.

The air conditioned car was most welcome and with no hold ups this time, those falling asleep got a shock on reaching home!

Ode to a very wet walk in May

The LAWS (Ladies Afternoon Wednesdays Society) with Roy as their guide did a repeat of our May 1st walk on Tuesday 15th May but unfortunately didn't have the good weather we did and as a result, two of their group Jill Peacock and Barbara Booth have kindly penned this poem for our amusement.

Our Leader, Roy got soaked, tho Jill had her brolly.
Rain came down and water flowed, but it was very jolly.
Friends together had much fun,
More time in the pub than on the run.

While sheltering beneath some trees,
Christine collapsed (it was her knees).
On we trudged over hill and dale
Spied six deer that left no trail.

Though we were all very wet,
No moment at all did we regret
We vowed to do it all again,
Hopefully next time without the rain.

From then until now by Alan Wood

Born in 1928 makes me one of the two oldest PRATS, Tom Walder being the other although he only beats me by some 5 weeks. (1928 was a good year).
I came south in late 1939 to Lewes where I spent the war years at school, same school as Tom, although we were not aware of each other at the time.
I joined the POED in late 1944 as a Y-in-T, at Seaford before moving to Lewes on various duties. In 1946/47, on Internal Construction, the other youth on the team under a Mr Frank Hulse was no other than Tom.
March 20th 1947 Tom and I travelled to Maidstone to start our 2 years National Service and two years later, on April 1st 1949 I was demobbed.
Our friendship continued after demob (meeting up on Triumph motorbikes). And in 1950 Tom honoured me by being Best Man at my wedding.
After establishment I was a lineman at Lewes then down to Newhaven (CB 10) and Peacehaven (UAX 7) exchanges before moving to Gatwick in 1957, initially to install then maintain the PABX No3 and telegraph switching centre plus a miscellany of other equipment.
Whilst at Gatwick I managed to extend my interest in aviation by obtaining free flights on numerous occasions when aircraft were on training or positioning exercises. On one occasion I finished up in Berlin but the return flight was cancelled and I had to pay for my flight back by Lufthansa. Colleagues at the time never let me forget the incident.
1961 saw my move to THQ where in the next 22 years I served in TG Branch, Accommodation (Radio Stations) Branch and finally in Service Branch.
1983 (April 1st again – no comments please) saw me start my early retirement. I think I was one of the first to be offered this way out in the then newly formed BT.
Early retirement saw me doing Chauffeuring (peak cap and suit), technical documentation work for Teradyne, an American company providing BT with modern remote testing equipment and finally delivering cars the length and breadth of England.
On a final issue where the PRATS are concerned, Roy Peacock contacted me some six years ago to see if I would like to participate. At the time I declined but things changed and after meeting the group for lunch on several occasions I was finally persuaded to join which I did, albeit initially just for the after lunch return. On June 1st 2004 I entered into my first full walk and the rest is history. I wish now that I had started earlier.

I have thoroughly enjoyed every walk even though I have difficulties at times especially over stiles. Fortunately the ‘younger members‘are always helpful either physically or verbally. As you can see, sometimes I can be seventy nine years young, This is one of a series of things I have been persuaded to do including being jammed into a phone box with several others to create a record as well as being one of about twelve to sit on a stile.

Conkers by Dave Page

The name comes from the nineteenth-century dialectal word conker meaning snail-shell (related to French conque meaning a conch), as the game was originally played by children using snail shells or sometimes hazelnuts. Conkers are also known regionally as "obblyonkers", "cheggies" or "cheesers", but the first recorded game of Conkers using horse chestnuts was on the Isle of Wight in 1848.
In 1965 the World Conker Championships were set up in Ashton (near Oundle) Northamptonshire, and still take place on the second Sunday of October every year. In 2004, an audience of 5,000 turned up to watch more than 500 competitors from all over the world slug it out.
In 2000 a survey of British schools showed that many were not allowing children to play Conkers as head teachers were afraid of the legal consequences if children were injured while playing the game. In 2004 a headmaster was reported to be giving kids goggles to play the game. A slightly older teenager can be seen wearing them in the picture below.

To stand a good chance of winning, it is desirable to have as hard a conker as possible. The best way to achieve this is to leave your conker in a drawer for a year and are called "Laggies" in many areas. If you lack time, a similar effect can be gained by briefly baking it in an oven...
It should be pointed out, however, that some would consider any artificial hardening of a conker to be cheating. At the British Junior Conkers Championships on the Isle of Wight in October 2005, contestants were banned from bringing their own conkers due to fears that they might harden them.
Some rules and names
If a player just slices the opponent's conker (i.e. does not get a clean hit, often because wind causes the opponent's conker to sway), then both players quickly shout "tips" and the one who in the opinion of the crowd shouted it first, gets to take the next shot.
A further variation adds that if a player should let go of the string when the hit occurs, which often results in the conker traveling quite some distance, whosoever gets to it first wins it, though don’t try this if it lands in the river as it has on past occasions Mick and Eddie take note.
Another variation states that if a conker should come off the string, but is otherwise undamaged, the 'attacking' player may shout "stampsies" and attempt to stamp on the 'defending' player's conker before they are able to retrieve it.
In some areas, a rule is played whereby if a player takes his shot and the two laces become tangled, the first player who shouts "clinks", "strings" or "jinks", depending on the region, gets to take shots.
May the the horse chestnut tree flourish and the game continue for the children and the recycled teenagers in the future.

More early memories by Tom Walder

As I am one of the oldest Pratswalkers (the oldest actually) I thought I would follow what seems to be the blog trend starting in the distant past.
At the start of my GPO career, political correctness even in those bygone days flourished and because my father was SW1 O I/C Eastbourne Manual Exchange it was decided I couldn't start there!
So at the tender age of 16 in August 1944 I was commanded to report to Bernard Stone O I/C Lewes Manual Exchange.
I couldn't believe my luck all those telephone operators some young some not so young and I was going to work among them changing cords etc. Mind you some of the supervisors seemed to be as old as my mother at the time!
As this was towards the end of the war there was also a female engineer assistant.These ladies were recruited in quite large numbers as a lot of engineers had been called up into the forces.
This was the start of my training and I was known as a Y2YC (more abbreviations- Youth Two Year Course)

Mine and man's best friend by Dave Page

It's now been 436 days since we had to have our lovely dog Moss put to sleep and we still miss him and think about him all the time. He kept me reasonably fit when we did agility and he never went wrong but I sent him the wrong way on too many occasions. He was our constant companion and through him we made many new friends who we keep in touch with now.

A few days after we lost him I was browsing the web as you do and I came across the following poem which I didn't read right through for several months and to all of you who have had to make the heartbreaking decision to have a family pet put to sleep you may derive some comfort from the following words.

The Last Battle
If it should be that I grow frail and weak, and pain should keep me from my sleep
Then will you do what must done, for this—the last battle---can’t be won
You will be sad I understand but don’t let grief then stay your hand
For on this day, more than the rest, your love and friendship must stand the test
We have had so many happy years, you wouldn’t want me to suffer so
When the time comes, please let me go

Take me where to my needs they’ll tend, only stay with me to the end
And hold me firm and speak to me until my eyes no longer see
I know in time you will agree, it is a kindness you do to me
Although my tail it’s last has waved, from pain and suffering I’ve been saved
Don’t grieve that it must be you ,who has to decide this thing to do
We’ve been so close—we two—these years, don’t let your heart hold any tears

Moss 1992-2006

A day to remember by Bob Milton

September 9th 1946

This is another day to remember, it is the day that Bob Milton, aged 16 joined the Post Office Telephones, reporting at ‘Otterburn’, Old Orchard Road, Eastbourne to Mr Veneer, Chief Inspector.
After a brief welcome I signed the Official Secrets Act and felt quite important.
I was then taken downstairs to meet my Inspector, Mr J Smethurst, who seemed a very pleasant fellow.
He told me that I was to address him as Mr Smethurst and I was to be known as Mr Milton. Customers were to be addressed as Sir or Madam. I suppose it was not expected I would meet any Lords or Ladies. So there was my first experience of equality in my new job. Mr Smethurst took out a pack of twenty Players, lit one and asked me if I smoked. When I replied yes he remarked, “Don’t let me catch you smoking on duty”

Another memory, (circa Suez)
I found myself coming in contact with ‘transmission men’ They all seemed to wear corduroy trousers and call each other ‘old boy’. They were also fond of asking people to ‘turn up the wick’ and spoke about funny things called dbs. Another favourite was ‘I’ll change the bottle old chap’. It was a different approach.
You perhaps can see why it is said. ‘You can always tell a transmission man, but you cannot tell him much’
But to be serious there was also Ernie Pike, king of the bees, and concert pianist. You don’t know what you missed.

PRATS one and all from John Watts

When I joined the GPO I found we were called ‘God’s Poor Orphans’ and during my career it changed its name to Post Office (PO) and by the time I retired it was known as British Telecom (BT). Throughout my career I have learned to live with abbreviations so that anyone listening to a conversation between any GPO/PO/BT engineer will think they have gone to another country. Imagine someone listening in and hearing you say “Give me a dis on the IDF because I’ve got an earth on my P wire and it’s causing PETs on my Finals” As we moved into the electronic era it got even worse with MCUs, SPUs & Cyclic Stores. I retired in 1992 and moved to East Sussex in 2000. Having worked in London all my career I was keen to maintain links with my old colleagues and often visit Croydon for an ‘Old Boy’ Meeting once a month’ and YES, we still talk about ‘P’ wires and MCUs etc.
Having moved to this area I was roped in to help ‘Re-launch’ Neighbourhood Watch (NW) in Polegate. It was at a NW meeting held in East Dean that I bumped into a familiar face from the past - it was Roy Peacock. We chatted over past times and the people we had known and then Roy told me about the walks he and other ex BT men did and asked me if I would like to be a PRAT. I recovered my composure quickly because I always remembered Roy as a gentleman and not one prone to giving insult. Well, to cut a long story short, I joined and was delighted to meet an exceedingly good bunch of ex BT blokes. Among the band of happy wanderers are some ‘Honorary PRATS’ who are guest walkers. These chaps who did not work for BT have carved a special place into the group and share in all the good comradeship. Recently one of the guest walkers said to me that he had been in Banking all his working life and he was amazed how we BT types (years after retirement) still talk about ‘the job’. He said that when he meets old colleagues they never talk about Banking. I explained that to have been a GPO etc. engineer means you have become part of a close knit brotherhood. You could go anywhere in the country and two BT men could meet and talk the same language and be good friends. Perhaps that is why we still talk in abbreviations and call ourselves the PRATS. (One has to remember to explain to outsiders that the letters stand for Pensioners Rambling And Trekking Society). I nearly got my face slapped by a lady in a car park who was putting on her walking shoes and I asked her if she was one of the PRATS). That could have resulted in a nasty fault on my ‘P’ wire leaving me with a PG (permanent glow).

Musings on a dull day by Dave Page

I sit here with a smug feeling of satisfaction knowing that we have completed another successful walk around the beautiful county of Sussex. Our group first founded in 1995 has now completed 143 walks and we go from strength to strength.
We still have a few of the original walkers and although our numbers have dipped in the past to one walk when only three turned up, our latest walk had 22 walkers and although this resulted in a few queues at stiles, everybody still enjoyed the day.
In the early days of our walks when we were all fit and healthy we used to walk around 10 miles but now we tend to limit it to nearer 6 miles and try to complete the greater part of the walk before lunch. The meal nowadays plays an important part of our day as it allows us to eat and chat to our hearts content.