Readers may remember that beginning on July 22, 2016 the Nostalgia page has featured several articles about the various camps that were established in the locality after WWII in order to house displaced and homeless families. 

One such camp was at the site in Daws Hill Lane which had been occupied during the war by the Bomber Command of the United States of America Air Force (USAAF).

One resident of the camp, now living in Australia, has been in touch with us regarding his memories of the time he spent there. His name is Michael Maddox and he has written as follows:

“It’s a funny thing, but when you move to a new home, memories of the place you left behind become a time capsule locked in your mind.

“It becomes even more entrenched when you move to a new country such as I did when I emigrated to Australia in February 1964 as a £10 Pommy. 

“Perhaps it has something to do with not “living through” subsequent changes that my recollections remain undiminished.

“This account covers the time I lived with my family in Daws Hill Lane from 1946 to 1949.

“My mother, younger brother Trevor and myself had lived through the war years in Scotland, so it was that in 1946 we travelled by sleeper train back to London, eventually ending up at The Camp in Daws Hill Lane. I was four and my brother two.

“Our father was usually absent, seeking work, we thought, but we did see him from time to time during his infrequent visits home.

“The Camp was a disorganized collection of corrugated iron Nissen huts that had originally been temporary housing for the American military personnel during the war.

“Our hut, which was positioned quite close to the entrance of The Camp, was partitioned off to form two dwellings of several rooms at each end, with a vacant space between them.

“There was no soundproofing or insulation, the internal walls being merely thin sheeting fixed to a timber frame. Heating came from a potbelly stove in one room. 

“Nearby there was a communal toilet block, but we never used it; for us, it was a potty in the kitchen. There were also concrete bomb shelters close by in which we played hide-and-seek, and we could roam as we pleased in safety. For a small child, life was quite idyllic.

“A truck would periodically visit The Camp filled with wood off-cuts (mill-ends), collected from the many furniture factories in High Wycombe, for burning in the ubiquitous potbelly stoves.

“The driver was our Pied Piper as we helped fill the bags provided by the camp residents. If we were lucky, he would allow us to climb up on top of the load whilst he drove from hut to hut.

“It was very exciting, notwithstanding splinters in hands and knees and sawdust that blew into eyes. Definitely before OH&S (Occupational Health & Safety)!

“I don’t recall it being especially cold, which it must have been, but I do recall the exceptional snowfall from late January to early March 1947.

“The snow was so deep that walkways had to be dug between the huts to the front doors, which to a four year old who could barely see over the top, was a novel experience.

“The lack of building insulation also meant that the corrugated roof was perfect for growing long icicles, as the snow alternately thawed and refroze, which hung like a curtain over the front door.

“In the warmer weather, our mother would take my brother and I the short walk through the beech trees down Keep Hill to the Dyke via the lane at the back of The Camp.

“I was always pleased to arrive safely as I found the towering trees in the lane quite intimidating. I think this route must have been the original sunken road south from High Wycombe. 

“The Dyke was a favourite spot to catch freshwater crayfish from under the stones near the waterfall and take them home in a jam jar, along with minnows and sticklebacks.

“They would survive for a day or two and then quietly disappear. I wonder if they still exist in the Dyke?

“Once I became old enough, I attended the Church of England Primary School opposite the old Loakes Park soccer ground. Around this time, our mother started working at the Parker-Knoll furniture factory at Temple End.

“She would leave my brother in the care of a neighbour and once I became familiar with the way, sent me to school on my own while she walked to work.

“There was no other option for her as around this time, our father finally deserted his family leaving us without any savings.

“The route to school was along Daws Hill Lane, down Marlow Hill and along Barracks Road past the hospital. Sometimes I would cut across Tom Burt’s Hill where I would occasionally see harebells and primroses in the meadow.

“When my brother reached school age we would explore the hedgerows and woods together on the way home. There was a brick wall and hedge that ran along one side of Daws Hill Lane from Marlow Hill Road up to The Camp.

“We were able to enter the beech woods where it turned north and find wood anemones and wild strawberries.

“I’m not sure where I got the idea, but I once played truant by hiding between the hedge and the brick wall on the way to school.

“There I waited until no more people passed by, then emerged to wander back home to try and find some amusement. The trouble was that all my friends had gone to school and I had no one to play with.

“Even worse, lunchtime arrived and I had nothing to eat. School lunches of the day, such as they were, were better than nothing.

“To cap it off, the neighbour, who kept our house key during the day had gone out. It was not a well thought out plan and the experience was a salutary lesson.

“The day finally came in 1949 when we were allocated an upstairs council flat at 32 Highwood Crescent, Booker Hill. For the first time in a long while we had an indoor flushing toilet, a fireplace and gas cooking.

“Rooms were fitted with lino and we moved in with our few possessions. A fresh chapter had begun.”

- Michael will be contributing his memories of when he lived in other places in High Wycombe and the schools he attended in future Nostalgia pages.