The Netmaker

"The Netmaker" the story follows four families who are all linked in some way to the Wilkinsons Lemonade Factory that was bombed during WW2. This is a tribute to the 107 people who lost their lives on 3rd May 1941

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7. 7

The story Mr Hastings had told them all in class would live in the mind of young Sam Richardson all his life and the look on his teachers face as he retold the events of the war. When the lesson was over Sam shook his teachers hand; a hand that trembled even now twenty three years after the First World War had ended.

He decided then and there that if the war still not over by the time he was eligible to leave school he would stay on. He would like to become a doctor and nothing would stop him in his quest to achieve that goal. Like a lot of kids they were apt to change their minds.

Sam wondered around the playground at lunch time until someone brought in a football and they began a kick about in the top yard. “You had to be fleet of foot to get the ball let alone kick it as thirty something kids ran towards you trying to steal the ball from you. Sam was gifted in his dribbling skills having watched Stanley Matthews with the ball. He was a natural born dribbler and rated as the best England player of his generation. Sam twisted and turned shimmied and ran past countless players until he was faced with him and the keeper Rob Logan a big lump of a kid who was head and shoulders bigger but undaunted Sam sent him the wrong way and slotted the ball home. Goal he shouted and his tem mates all mobbed him.

“Not many get anything past Logan said Eric Forster.’ Will you be signing for the team then?’

“I don’t know, I haven’t been asked.’

“You will mark my words; soon as Alan Jones and Neil Proctor clock you.’

The ball was re-spotted in the middle of the yard and off they went again.’

Sam was feeling hungry now he’d only eaten one slice of bread with some dripping all day.

There was a half eaten sandwich wrapped in some bread paper on the wall. Sam looked around then picked it up and shoved it into his mouth then carried on playing. He hoped that his mother would be making something nice for tea. It would more than likely to be fish of some description as Tom brought home a fry most nights which his mother passed onto neighbours in exchange for ten Woodbine cigarettes. Sometimes Tom would fetch home a crab or some prawns to eat which Sam loved.

He would certainly be telling the story Mr Hasting told him when he got in.

The bell sounded and Sam made his way to Mr Crumble’s class which was metal work. He walked along the corridor then turned right there were three class rooms and he found the one he was looking for and went in. Mr Crumble or Taffy as he was better known being he was Welch. The man from Flint near Prestatyn was only about five feet tall and had a calliper boot on his leg. He had grey hair, a Van Dyke beard, and extremely hairy eye brows. He wore half moon spectacles on the end of his hooked nose. Sam figured that he was around fifty five years old.

That afternoon he took them through the process of how to weld one piece of metal onto another.

 

 

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