When I go Elsan-cleaning ...

The late posting today was caused by C-H-M having been up & out with the lark at 6.45 and then carrying out his first duties as "plongeur" for the evening class at Leiths, after a long day over a hot stove. First cuts and burns have been sustained, but nothing remotely serious. C-H-M earned the cost of three days' bus and tube fares. Eat your heart out, Eric Blair. But at least C-H-M's endeavours were remunerated. Above is the 1977 edition of C-H-M, surprisingly cheerful as he was snapped by Anna Behan (Collinge) on the way to empty the Elsans. Without pay.

Mani puliti

Dr Ferris is on a retrospective cleanliness jag: "The recently-posted photo on the blog of Crickley Hill Man emptying the contents of someone else's bladders was worringly juxtaposed with a photo of a teabreak scene. Can Crickley Hill Man reassure his perhaps more sensitive readers that he thoroughly washed his hands after his Elsan exertions and before he began dunking and eating his rich-tea biscuits?

On the subject of teabreak differentials in biscuit provision, it may upset Becky to learn after all these years that Corky was not averse to sometimes slipping the supervisors a gingernut or two, on pain of death should they divulge the existence of these spicy treats to the blissfully-unaware, rich-tea-dunking, mass of diggers."

I would like to reassure Iain that I have a clear recollection of regularly washing my hands using the water straight out of the jerry-cans. I also managed to blag my way onto a diet of digestives, but I can't recall being favoured with gingernuts ...

I'd rather hoped this one hadn't survived ...

Dr Anna Behan (née Collinge) produced this charming vignette of C-H-M in his youth at the reunion. Kate Cole-Dumycz remembered that I was 'the Elsan King' - how kind - but I did not realise that my late-teenage ecological activities had ever been captured on camera until I came across Dr Behan chuckling away to herself with Penny Hart examining this shot ... but we might as well get it out of the way - nothing to see, move along there, you know the sort of thing ...

Welcome to Kate Cole, Bess and Daisy

A warm hello to Kate Cole (now Dumycz) who sends this picture of herself on the Hill.  "The dogs were my mother's - muts called Bess and Daisy."  She also writes: 

"I lived in Stroud - Richard [Savage] had put up posters for the dig in my local library where I saw one.  My first stint at Crickley was my school's work experience (and what an experience - don't think it'd be allowed these 'elf-and-safety conscious days!).  

If this was in 1980 (rather then the 1979 you have), then I rather fear that the 17 year old was me. I do recall Richard being there to greet myself and my parents and I was deposited in the very far end female dorm. [Dorm 4. Ed.] I was actually only 16 and very scared and nervous about what I'd let myself in for!  The next day the very first person I met was JP... I'm pretty sure that I must have been the person that Richard hid you all from.  I do remember shortly after being left in the dorm by my parents that Ros [Cleal] turned up and was in a very giggly mood and was looking at me in a strange way.  Now, 28 years later, I know why!!!  [So that I don't hear from Dr Cleal's solicitors, I'd like to make clear that she was not part of the collection of wet diggers in the back of the Land Rover. I expect she gave me a strange look too, doubtless well-merited! Ed.]

The regulars seemed to be so sophisticated to my 16 year old mind!  They all seemed to know what they were doing and were smooth operators with it!  I was terrified of some of the more seasoned regulars and the caustic remarks and nicknames!  I remember Training and I also remember the lad nicknamed Leatherhead (because that's where he came from).  But I loved it enough to do 3 seasons - the 1980 season I was only supposed to do one week but came back for the final two weeks.  I did the entire 1981 season and 2 weeks in 1982.  

I remember you dashing around on the dumper trucks. And weren't you the Elsan king too? [Yes, indeed - I held that honourable office, Kate: someone had to do it &  my mother was an operating theatre nurse during the war, so she brought me up to have a strong stomach! Ed.]  The Elsans were still there and in use in 1980 (and possibly 1981?).  I was working on the section that was the furthest away from anything. I recall that there was a choice of a 10-15 min there-and-back walk to the toilet block or a quick couple of minutes dash to the Elsans. I remember the supervisor's glares as I choose the former option... The smell of that wretched chemical - I can still recall it nearly 30 years later!  

On the poster you have of the sponsors is the name Major Birchall.  That must be the same major who (rather foolishly I always thought) invited the diggers to a summer party at his pad, which was an amazing Cotswold (manor?) house with extensive gardens.  He let us roam freely throughout his house and grounds - I can't remember if the food was up to much but the setting was amazing.  I remember trying to desperately scrub up and get myself clean and reasonably presentable for his party - not easy with those terrible showers! 

Amazing memories - some of the happiest times of my life." 

Welcome to the blog, Kate.

A man, his barrow and the Elsan tent ...

Ranging Rod, silhouetted against a grey sky, pictured at the moment of tipping the barrow contents down the far side of the spoil heap. The spoil heaps were of some size and it required strength and good balance to be able to negotiate a full barrow up the heap and along the planks, which always shifted a little as you came along. The bottom section of this barrow run would have needed a fair bit of momentum to succeed as it is reasonably steep. It may even have required a breach of the Ferris site rule "Never run with a barrow". In the distance, the faded green-blue canvas of the Elsan tent. I described here the slightly uncomfortable lavatory arrangements with which we used to have to contend before the Leisuredrome was built. This Phillpotts photo from 1979 makes me suspect that this was the last season with the Elsans.

A Ferris Proustian moment?

From Iain: "I hope Crickley Hill Man will forgive me for possibly lowering the tone of his excellent blog by returning to the subject of the Crickley Elsans. When listening to a Cannonball Adderley LP the other day, as you do, I was taken aback when the great man played 'Smoke Gets In Your Eyes'. Unfortunately, my pleasure at listening to the record was immediately compromised by the memory of Robert Roberts at Crickley singing a song about Elsans to this very tune, something that will forever blight my appreciation of this classic number. I cannot remember the lyrics to this second Elsan song or perhaps I have blocked them out of my mind for some reason. Does Crickley Hill Man remember this? If so, is it sanitised enough to reproduce on his blog?"

It rings a very faint bell... do I remember? Let's try some Proust ...

"Et tout d’un coup le souvenir m’est apparu. Ce goût, c’était celui du petit morceau de madeleine que le dimanche matin à Combray (parce que ce jour-là je ne sortais pas avant l’heure de la messe), quand j’allais lui dire bonjour dans sa chambre, ma tante Léonie m’offrait après l’avoir trempé dans son infusion de thé ou de tilleul." 

(And suddenly the memory revealed itself. The taste was that of the little piece of madeleine which on Sunday mornings at Combray (because on those mornings I did not go out before mass), when I went to say good morning to her in her bedroom , my aunt Léonie used to give me, dipping it first in her own cup of tea or tisane.)

... no, sorry, Iain, it's not coming back. I can remember Robert singing another ditty called "The Prisoner" and, alas, I can remember all the words to that. But they are not seemly, and could never be made fit to be published, no matter what Bowdlerising went on as there wouldn't be a lot left. I will continue to meditate upon the muse which moved Robert. 

An historical uncertainty from the Ferris archive ...

"In reply to Crickley Hill Man's elsan-based brain teaser I can only reply 'I'm not sure.' Exposure to the blue chemicals in my formative years may in fact have addled my brain. The Elsan Song was also performed on the Institute of Archaeology's West Heath Common training dig in 1974 or 1975 but whether it arrived there via Crickley or at Crickley via West Heath I don't know. You may recall that there was an Institute student contingent at Crickley from roughly 1974-1978 (at various times myself, Jeff Beech, John Boden, Simon Mercer, Louisa Gidney, Robert Roberts and Sara Roberts) who also had another fine musical number sung to the tune of 'Four and Twenty Virgins'-'Four and twenty diggers came down from Gordon Square and when the dig was over they wondered who'd been there' etc. It was from this comic meisterwerk that the lines of 'sniffer Boden he was there and he was getting paid for brandishing his Pentax and leaning on his spade', already quoted on your blog, originated."

Another trip to the Elsans ...

Penny Hart writes:

"I seem to remember the song which went with them:

"Beans for breakfast, beans for tea
Makes my work more hard for me
If you could see what I could see
When I'm cleaning Elsans"

Also the episode of Anna's trowel, not removed from back pocket when a visit was paid - sliding effortlessly into the depths. Gallons of Elsan blue made no difference to the "marinated quality"..

Penny is quite right and I must add the first lines

"When I go Elsan-cleaning to earn an honest bob,
For a dirty digger it's a scintillating job -
Beans for breakfast ... etc"

This ditty was chanted to the tune of "When I'm cleaning windows". I don't recall who thought it up, though Dr Ferris may be able to help with that conundrum. I can hear in my mind's ear Flt. Lt. Southwood singing it which comes as no surprise.

'Twas I that retrieved Miss Collinge's trowel from its fate: I did indeed disinfect it with much Elsan blue before chivalrously returning it to her: its patina of blue was never going to wash off... 

Ah, yes, the Elsans ...

No account of the first ten years of the excavation would be complete without a note on the Elsans. Providing lavatory facilities on top of the Cotswold scarp where you're a mile from running water was always a challenge. It was not until about 1979 or 1980 (update: the latter) that the current building by the car parks that contains the modern lavatories and the display room was built. To get the water up the hill involved laying the pipes and putting in a pumping station halfway up the approach road to boost the water to the top. It took a long time before the Council thought it worthwhile making that doubtless considerable investment.

Before that time, all water had to be transported: one of the chores PWD unfailingly did was the water run. Water was needed for 3 main purposes: drinking, (both cold and in tea or coffee), washing the excavation finds, and washing hands after going to the loo. Bear in mind that the excavation season was the middle of summer and the weather was often hot: more than 100 thirsty diggers, quite a number of whom on any day were engaged in hard physical work, could get through a considerable volume of water. Once in the morning and once in the afternoon several 5 gallon jerrycans would be filled with fresh water at Ullenwood and taken up to site.

The loos themselves consisted of a pair of chemical toilets which were quite basic: cream-painted circular metal drums with a plastic seat attached and an inner metal can with a handle round the rim. These were housed in rectangular 3' x 3' x 7' high tents with poles at all 4 corners and guy ropes. There was always an art to finding a spot on the top of the hill where you could get the pegs far enough into the ground to hold the tents securely. The door flaps were secured by three sets of tapes one could tie in a bow. The loos were primed with Elsan Blue fluid which overpowered the worst of the smell. Good to see they're still in business: Elsan



For several seasons one of my periodic duties was emptying the Elsans. We used to dig, with pick axe and shovels, a large hole: I remember at least once Mike Webb and I digging the pit together: I caught myself on the front of the left shin with the pick axe when it bounced off the rock. Brought tears to the eyes and doubtless the odd oath was uttered! I used particularly to favour that area of the quarries outside the rampart that is now the picnic area. Little do the day trippers know what lies buried under their feet as they enjoy their lunches...