What did Mr Boden hear next?

Mr Boden & C-H-M have been to Pembrey, Carmarthenshire to see Dr Ferris and Dr Bevan (a.k.a. Dr Mrs Dr Ferris). Very jolly it was too, with healthy walking on the delightful beaches nearby and not too much misbehaviour.  And on the way home we dropped in to see Richard & Lydia Savage to plot a little more for this year's reunion, of which more very soon.


Inevitably, as we were so close, the Boden Saab was irresistibly drawn to the top of the Hill after a quick snack at the Air Balloon.  Once Mr Boden had recovered from the shock being gouged for parking charges, we completed a circuit of the Hill in fabulous weather, noting blackthorn, hawthorn, vibernum, cowslips, speedwell, buttercups, a solitary campion, ditto an aquilegia.


And as we strolled C-H-M and Mr Boden had an experience neither of us has ever had before whilst atop Crickley. Nor, we suspect will many, if any, of those who dug the hill have ever had this experience unless you happen to live close by and time your visit as we did. As we stood drinking in the view, we heard cuckoos singing. Rather splendid.

Excerpt from 1975

From the Boden studio, 1975. Andrew Powell, planning as ever, has spotted JB, Pentax in hand, whilst Clive Anderson faces away from the camera in the check shirt. Others unknown to C-H-M.

The Chronicler scoops the prize ...

Dr Phillpotts has been on enquiries en famille in Tunisia "sampling the delights of Roman cities, troglodyte dwellings and camels."

This is a family blog, Dr Phillpotts, so private emails only about the camels, please. He continues:

"With reference to a fairly recent posting of a near-naked Noakes looking regal with a large white sceptre: I don't remember the photograph being taken, but I believe it relates to the following episode.

There was in the mid 1970s a popular television programme fronted by Esther Rantzen called 'That's Life', a mixture of consumer items and comic silliness. One of the regular items was 'Heap of the Week' in which members of the public were invited to nominate an unwanted item for imaginative destruction. One week [it was during 1975. Ed.] the Heap was a large white plaster statue of a seated king, and it was destroyed in the quarry at Crickley Hill.

[Photo of large white plaster King kindly supplied by Mr John Boden who was brandishing his Pentax to pleasing effect that day. Ed.]

We were peacefully excavating the hill-fort interior one day when one of our number (it may have been me) looked out over the rampart to see a troop of Roman soldiers marching up the quarry, and gave the alarm. Believing we might be in a time-warp, we armed ourselves with catbashers and ranging poles, and sallied forth to tackle the invaders, Biggles blowing a rallying cry on the scaffolding pipe. This was in the true spirit of Iron Age warfare, as had been nobly elucidated to us by the lectures of R D A Savage. However, the television crew were less than happy with our noisy arrival, as the presenter was doing his piece to camera at the time.

It turned out that the Ermine Street Guard (for it was they) had been engaged to destroy the offending statue with their small mangonel (or whatever Romans called it) by lobbing missiles at it from across the quarry. In this endeavour the ersatz Romans were singularly ineffective, only succeeding in denting one of the royal knees; so the television crew cheated by pushing the statue off the edge, editing the film afterwards to give the illusion of success.


[Ersatz Romans, being singularly ineffective with a mangonel, also supplied by the Atelier Boden. Ed.]

I can only assume that Noakes was posing with pieces of the debris. I wonder if anyone else remembers the incident? If so, I claim my prize of a free dinner for four at the Albergo Parker.

We did have some later contacts with the Ermine Street Guard. Bryn Boreham (Personality of the Year CH84?) was a member and sometimes wore his armour to parties. I remember trying to play a tune on it with a pair of spoons, one of the more unusual instruments I have played in my eccentric musical career.

Re the picture of John Howell delving in a post-hole with a mallet and a catbasher by his side in CH78, I recall that some of John's post-holes in the gull in that year had fills so hard that they needed robust tools to excavate them. I think even picks were employed."

Dr Phillpotts is correct in all particulars in his recollection, as one would wish a Chronicler to be, and the free dinner at the Albergo Parker is surely his. I think Mr Boden also merits dinner for the excellent and timely illustrations, don't you?

A reader writes ...

Andrew Powell says: "the sketch of Phil (the first to be drawn) was done after a lunch-time site tour, and the curious structure he is pondering is not my attempt to draw a roundhouse but some actual group of features that we had stopped to puzzle over. Given Corky's recollection that the sketches were probably done in 1980, maybe someone knows what this was. The car port I believe was the long mound, rather than the rampart - was there a line of large stones near it?

Keep up the excellent work - the blog is my first stop in the morning before getting down to work. [Thank you! Ed] One point - there does seem to be a dearth of images from the early years - apart from the odd shot by Boden and myself. There must be more out there. [I'm sure there are - all contributions gratefully received, please. Ed]

PS now published for your delectation, the intriguingly entitled 'Kentish Sites and Sites of Kent: a miscellany of four archaeological excavations' 2009 by Andrews, Egging Dinwiddy, Ellis, Hutcheson, Phillpotts, Powell and Schuster." And where can we find this volume, please, Andrew? C-H-M did a quick search on Google and nowt helpful emerged?

Curiouser & curiouser ...

C-H-M is being entertained by having cooked for 40 at the weekend and planning a buffet for 32 at £3 a head in the not too distant future which is leading to erratic blog posting for which I apologise. This month's caption competition shows Mr Noakes immortalised by Mr Boden. But who can tell me what is really going on in this photograph? Update: Dr Phillpotts scoops the prize!

Perfect colour co-ordination

Mr Boden brandished his Pentax one day in 1975 and took this shot of Alice Pandrich and Clive Anderson in deeply colour-co-ordinated conversation during the 1975 season. Alice is probably wondering what's going on behind the shades ... I have suspicion that the man behind Clive whose left leg and arm can be seen may well be Andrew Powell.

A reader writes ...

Dr Ferris is shown here in a curious pose in 1980, with threadbare parts of Mr Boden in the background. I can only assume my finger slipped on the camera: I can't recall a particular interest in backsides or blue jeans that would otherwise account for this picture.

Dr F. muses: "Now that October is here, I wonder if Crickley Hill Man has selected a new photo candidate for his hugely implausible blog feature 'Doppelganger of the Month'? Would it not also be apposite to instigate a 'Catering Tip of the Week' feature, to pass on vital cooking tips learned at Leith's each week to C-H-M's avid but often hungry readers?"

'Doppleganger of the Month' is scheduled for publication tomorrow so Dr Ferris will have to possess his soul in patience. But I hope I can provide some culinary satisfaction while Dr Ferris hangs upon his tenterhooks ...

C-H-M's first catering tip of the week relates to poached eggs: if you have ever wondered how people manage to turn out huge numbers of poached eggs in short order in the morning, the answer is this. Work out how many eggs you think you'll need during breakfast in the morning: poach them the night before for 3 minutes each, fish them out and plunge them into very cold water. Trim them so they look neat and then store them overnight in the fridge in a tub of cold water with the lid on. When you need to turn them out in quick succession in the morning they only need a minute in boiling water before they can be served to your hungry audience. Perfect. Oh, and don't put vinegar in the water. [Will this do? Ed.]

A curious urban coincidence?

Click to enlarge

Click to enlarge

C-H-M was out and about with Mr Boden in London a few weeks ago paying a visit to the V&A when he spotted something amusing on a Piccadilly Line train, but forgot about it. Last night C-H-M was hopping about on the Piccadilly line again, as he is wont to do & he spotted it again and this morning has found the item in question on the Transport For London website.

The top photo shows a decorative panel displayed on the trains as part of Transport For London's 'Platform Art'. It shows a scene entitled variously 'Fantasy Piccadilly Line' or 'Above Ground 2050' (in this example). It's a poster designed for TFL by an artist called Nils Norman. Depicted is "a series of unrealised and fantastical buildings and systems alongside other artists’ unrealised proposals for London. The map presents a vision of London as an ecological haven inhabited by Utopian and Dystopian machinery as an alternative to the more typical view of the city dominated by tourist attractions." Yeah, right.

There are fantasy locations with titles such as the 'Ministry of Love Peace and Plenty' and the 'Ministry of Truth'. Or the 'St James's Park and Buckingham Palace Gardens Adventure Playground Chain' or the 'Westminster Bog and Wetland Chain'. Not a monarchist, one suspects, Mr Norman, and perhaps not keen on politicians. But did he ever have a connection to Crickley Hill and Ullenwood? Why else would the lower photo in the enlarged version depict 'Mike Webb's Sin Centre'? It's on a slightly grander scale than a tent at Ullenwood ...



Here's the man himself having a bit of fun with an axe:

Doppelgangers of the Month - August

C-H-M recently noticed the striking resemblance between a young Mr Boden and Eric Clapton at a certain stage in the latter's meteoric career. The evidence is below:

-- Boden -- -- Clapton --

Dr Ferris has been musing on a similar theme and sends the following examples: "On the subject of lookalikes, I wonder if any of your readers have noticed the startling physical resemblance between the young Crickley Hill Man and the excellent film actor Philip Seymour Hoffman when he too was in his youth. There perhaps the resemblance ends because I very much doubt, however, that the Method-favouring Hoffman has ever prepared himself for a screen role by emptying dozens of overflowing elsan buckets."

-- Philip Seymour Hoffman -- -- Crickley Hill Man --

But Dr Ferris is not finished. "Again, there is more than a passing resemblance between Crickley Hill Man and famed pop maverick David Johansen of the New York Dolls, wearing a top hat, as photographed most famously by Bob Gruen in the 1970s."

I leave readers to judge for themselves.

-- C-H-M -- -- New York Doll --

Dr Ferris didn't choose this photo of David Johansen for reasons that are inexplicable ...

There wasn't one of these in Dorm 4 ...

C-H-M has had the honour of a visit from Mr Boden and yesterday we nipped into the Victoria & Albert Museum for the purposes of visual gratification. On our travels, we happened upon the Great Bed of Ware. Mr Boden's immediate observation was "There wasn't one of these in Dorm 4 for those strange bed-parties." The bed can sleep 15, which would have made it ideal, though Mr Boden suspects that the record for a Dorm 4 bed might come close or even exceed that when a pile of diggers really went for it. Given the disparity in size, a dorm 4 bed being, one suspects 6'6'' by 3' maximum, we could have probably got the entire season's cast into the Great Bed of Ware. Mr Boden is included in the photograph for the purposes of scale.

Mr Arwel Barrett on clandestine manoueuvres ...

Here is Arwel Barrett snapped by Rebecca Chambers peeking round the side of a small hut in 1988. Crickley Hill Man was strolling on Hampstead Heath yesterday in the company of Mr Boden. We came upon the magnificent prospect of the Great Wen that can be enjoyed from the top of Parliament Hill where the kites fly. We talked our way from left to right along the horizon picking out the landmarks. "Canary Wharf, the Gherkin, St Paul's Cathedral, the London Eye, ah, the Post Office Tower ..." said Mr Boden, "Did you know that Arwel used to tell a story about an occasion in the early 1970s in which he alleged that he had spent an evening in the revolving restaurant on the top of the Post Office Tower in the company of Pan's People?" I have googled Arwel Barrett and Pan's People and this social event of the decade is not memorialised.

For the benefit of his Lordship, readers under the age of 45 or not resident in the United Kingdom during the 1970s, Pan's People were a troupe of popular danseuses who prone to appear on a programme on the televisual device called 'Top of the Pops". Perhaps Arwel has some photographs?

Redressing the balance ...

Mr Boden feels he has had enough of being unfairly leant on:

"My dear chap, you've been very industrious and the photos are splendid. Obviously you realise that references to myself frequently leaning on spades, shovels etc are a myth based on the requirement to construct the last line of a song verse which rhymed and scanned, and this has become confused with the reality of the fact that nobody has ever produced photographic evidence of such a thing taking place. And if I ever for a brief moment did any spade leaning at all, it was because I might have learnt such a technique from the young maestro himself, as evidenced here in a fine shape being thrown on an Institute dig in Sussex."

What a gem: it's the beret that makes it for me ...

It was over there ... or was it over there? No, I'm sure it was over there ... I think ...

Crickley Hill Man had the good fortune to be in the right place at the right time to capture this rather lovely sequence as Ros Cleal and Marion Barter piece together what happened where during the picnic on 4 July 2009. Were they started on their train of thought by Iain Ferris in the top picture? Iain points Julie-Ann Morrison south east. Marion goes for north east: Ros nearly joins her at north north east and then they both agree and head south east.

Also in shot, Jill Hummerstone, John Parry, Les Capon, Chris Phillpotts, John Boden, Kate and Tony Dumycz and Joanne Milroy.

Southwood by Boden 1975

Some days ago I suggested that Dave Southwood wore a plastic Roman helmet whilst digging. Dr Ferris writes: "Misidentified Roman Military Equipment: while I fully understand that Crickley Hill Man quite rightly oversees a family-friendly blog, I hope he will allow me to comment on Dave Southwood's helmet seen full frontal in this photo. This toy plastic helmet was dug up in 1974 on the Old Ferry Approach, Woolwich site and rather than being repro Roman it was, in fact, repro medieval and missing its visor. For some curious reason known only to himself Dave chose to wear this hat on site at Woolwich and for a number of years afterwards at Crickley. In the event of anything falling on his head it would have afforded little protection."

That may be so: readers can judge for themsleves in the portrait above showing the item in all its glory is from the Boden studio, 1975.

During the 2009 site tour after the picnic

During the picnic PWD took us on a site tour. This Dumycz shot captures just over 40 of the 60-plus who attended, grouped on the National Trust side of the hill. Apologies if I miss anyone in the following list: Jane Dineen, Ros Cleal, Marion Barter, Paul Noakes, Philip Dixon, Terry Courtney, Andrew Powell, Anna Behan, Chris Phillpotts, Nick Snashall, Bernie Dawson, Corky Gregory, Les Capon, Malcolm White, Alan Ford, Richard Ozanne, Rebecca Chambers, Jill Hummerstone, Emma Turner, Dave Foster, Penny Hart, Steve and Joanne Vaughan, John Parry, Julie-Ann Morrison, Penny Hart, Kate Dumycz, Lydia Savage, John Boden, Iain Ferris, Richard and Becky Sanderson, Lucy Loveridge, Dave Butler, Miriam Vallely and Mike Sims. Phew - who did I miss? PWD finished the site tour with a call "Back to drinking!"

The Chronicler ties up some loose ends ...

Dr Phillpotts stirs again in his garret and shares the following wisdom:

"The Giant JP originated I believe in the mysterious CH78, with a character called Bill who only dug with us that year. I don't remember much about Bill, except his wet weather gear, which comprised a bin liner tunic, a bin liner skirt, and a sample bag wrapped over his head and clamped into his beard with a large bulldog clip, making him look like a punk battleaxe granny. He did bring us the Giant Parrot joke (What noise does a giant parrot make - SQUAWK!!!). He liked to gather a group of 6 or 8 people and tell this at high volume in the porch of the Air Balloon, in order to provoke the locals. This then developed into the Giant JP, which had a variable text decided by committee.

I was present when the great man, on rising one day, uttered the immortal words: "Sod this for a lark; I've just found a piece of limestone under me foreskin". [I remember this bit. Ed] Not only was this incorporated into the Giant JP, but the piece of limestone afterwards became the trophy in the Personality of the Year contest. [I don't believe you - Ed.]

I was present for quite a lot of CH78, but had no camera. I only acquired my first puny point-and-poke in 1979, and it took very narrow film, hence the soft focus effect of my early shots. I only really learned to take proper photos in about 1984, way behind the Pentax-Brandisher [Mr Boden. Ed]. The person who never returned JB's slides was Sandra the Cook.

An American lady asked about CH78 (might she be Naomi Jackson?) [No, it was Amy Cay. Ed]. From my notes towards a social history of Crickley Hill I can report the following highlights:

JP and I prepared the kitchen at the start of the season by scraping it down with table knives and repainting ('You make very nice!' said Lofty's mother, looking through the window). Ken and Dave were the cooks.

There was a contingent of Phil's students from Nottingham Uni, and an even bigger group from Leicester Uni. There were also some Poles, who were contacts of John Howell. Wonderful section drawings resulted, but labelled in Polish and Russian.

We removed vast quantities of backfill, and took huge soil samples. Baling out the cuttings.
We made a raid on Cheltenham Ladies College summer fête (Penny may remember that one, as she was running a stall). [I'm sure it is engraved on her heart. Janet Douglas will have imperishable memories of it too. Ed.]

Visits to the Golden Heart.

Late night visit from Fachtna McEvoy and P J Pikes, with their customary crate of booze.

Several of us dressed in drag for one of the dinner times, though I recall that Arwel looked more like a French curé in a long dress and straw hat.

Coach trip to Gloucester, Kingscote and Uleybury, with Lofty at the wheel.

John Howell gave a lecture about something.

An excellent dinner at Major Birchall's house.

Attempts to cram lots of people into small spaces (phone box, Mike the Whale's tent etc).

[A passage has been redacted here on the advice of C-H-M's lawyers - it was salacious, if not scurrilous and has no proper place on a family blog of this type. The usual fiver buys the details. Ed.]

Randal Motkin's first visit, I believe. I have missed out some of the lowlights, as it was in some respects a quarrelsome year. You may wish to edit some of the above. [Alas, I had to. Ed]

On Boden's shop steward speeches, I remember one from CH82, when he was exposed to some light drizzle whilst planning (I believe I have it verbatim): 'I don't think we should work in the rain. People don't work properly in the rain, they just piss about. (pause) I take myself as the prime example'.

I think we need Richard Savage to confess to the Great Bap Mountain and the Furry Turkey."

[This last paragraph, I think needs some illumination from the Chronicler: I will interview him on Saturday, if I remember. Ed.]

Noakes and regalia

Captured by top society snapper John Boden, Noakesy in a 1975 photo, exercising his quadricipes, poised in mid-air, not too close, we trust, to the barbed wire fence, clasping his sceptre and part of an orb. A prize tomorrow or Saturday for anyone (other than JB and Dr Ferris) who can correctly explain how Paul came by his regalia. I'm sorry to have to disqualify Dr Ferris but he has seen the accompanying Boden photos which explain all ...

Giant JPs, artworks & JB is innocent, OK?

John Boden reminded me (as if I could ever have forgotten) of the chant of Parryisms that was used to maintain morale, distress grockles and embarrass our dear Director when he was showing visiting local dignitaries around the site. A 'giant JP' chant was to have been part of the adaptation of 'Captain Lash' that was to be directed and produced by Dr Phillpotts, as JB reminded us here. I have been trying to reconstruct the words of the Parry-inspired chant, although I am not entirely certain that it can be published in full.

Mr Boden writes on this, and other matters:

"Now, the 'Giant JP' - that quoted snippet was the only reference in my Capt. Lash copy (which I now realise after only spotting 'Phillpotts on Lash' in your blog today, that the mystery hand of scripting was obviously Kris P. himself, and not such a rarity as I had supposed), but so well-known at the time that further explanation not needed! My dim recollection is that the Giant JP tended to evolve, on an annual basis perhaps, depending on whatever new bons mots fell from the maestro's lips. It did, however, always start with the same Leitmotiv - "Bastard, Swine, Long-handled bugger...." [Surely no comma between "Bastard" and "Swine"? Ed.] If I had to make a guess at the originator/moderator/MC of the 'Giant JP', that would be Biggles. For example, I vaguely recall in 1980, JP was incensed by someone in our dormitory scraping his boots with a trowel at his bedside, rather too close to breakfast time and JP himself, and he shouted out the gem: "Damn you for that scratchin'" followed by "Damn your eyes for that scratchin'" when the scratchin' didn't immediately cease. That was incorporated into the 'Giant JP' for that season, or maybe it wasn't, as False Memory Syndrome kicks in yet again!!

.. glad you thought the artwork I gleaned from Cyberspace worthy of 'running up the flagpole', and despite the fact that you personally didn't salute it - after a couple of glasses of the Lincolnshire Co-Operative Society's finest industrial-quality S. African Cab/Shiraz, I thought I could almost detect nuances of 2m x 2m planning grids, Limestone, Long Mounds and Leisuredromes.......

Finally, on a slightly different tack, which needs squaring up, the recently-posted incident of myself falling drunkenly into a bed of nettles (urtica dioica) - I categorically don't see me in the frame for that one! I'm sure I would have remembered the after-effects, if not the incident itself....

There was an occasion when one of our party appeared to have become detached on a walk back from the Air Balloon, and a head-count in the dining room late-pm led us on a search party down Greenway Lane, where our missing member was discovered having been botanically sidetracked (urtica dioica, again). Iain...help, you were there - unless another attack of FMS."

Alice Pandrich in the kitchen at Ullenwood

This shot from Andrew Powell's album earned him gentle e-mail reproaches from Dr Ferris and Professor Dixon for his thinking that this might be one of the cooks: it is "the wonderful Alice Pandrich" who was "not a cook but a supervisor, who supervised in 1972 and 1973, and then dug at Guildford as co director with Humphrey Wood, and at Woolwich." Examination of this webpage from Greenwich Council reveals, in the annual reports and proceedings of the Woolwich and District Antiquarian Society 1958-1981 Vol. XXXII-XXXVII, "Excavations near Woolwich Old Ferry Approach; the 17th century kilns and later structures. By Alice Pandrich." I also spot "Excavations at the Royal Dockyard, Woolwich: a summary report. By Terry Courtney."

Dr Ferris writes "I am delighted to see the photo of Alice Pandrich on Crickley Hill Man's blog. Alice was the first supervisor I worked for at Crickley in 1972 and she taught me a great deal about the archaeology of the hill. When I arrived, rumour in the dorm had it that Alice had a trophy cabinet full of young men's underpants at home, hopefully not grollies as previously mentioned in another post, but I'm sure this was just a rural, rather than urban, myth.

Alice was supervising at Crickley again in 1973 and certainly again in 1974, as she recruited a lot of Crickley diggers to go and work afterwards on the site she was directing at Old Ferry Approach, Woolwich in London, mentioned on the blog by Crickley Hill Man. At different times in Woolwich, from Crickley, there was myself, Jeff Beech, John Boden, the wry and witty Alison Bell, Biggles, Clive Anderson, American Lisa, Paul Noakes, Jenny Tinker, Fachtna McAvoy and Liz organising finds. This was a great site to work on, with incredible evidence for early post-medieval pottery production, and the social life was fairly riotous too. It was at Woolwich that Alice met Vic the architect whom she eventually married.

As Crickley Hill Man knows, field archaeology still is, and generally always has been, somewhat of a male-dominated part of the overall archaeological profession. In the early to mid 1970s there was a notable number of excellent, strong-willed women excavation directors working in British archaeology, of whom Alice was one, alongside, to name but a few I'm sure, Kirsty Rodwell, Christine Collyer, Hazel Wheeler and Pat Losco Bradley."

Pub lore

Ferris on drink: "Given that the Air Balloon was the social centre for the Crickley diggers, it is surprising how little reminiscence there is on Crickley Hill Man's blog about the place. I suppose it's another case of 'if you were really there you won't remember'. Between 1972, my first year at Crickley, and 1983, my last short stay, the Balloon changed out of all recognition: from a small, run-down but homely pub filled with drinking locals to the much larger, day-tripper meal-and-a-dry-white-wine-or-spritzer clientele of today. The original pub was in fact so small that the only way for all the diggers to be accommodated was for most people to stay in the beer garden all evening, even when it was sometimes cold or rainy. The original, outside pub toilets for many years were home to successive families of nesting swallows. Maybe the sole remaining original interior feature today is the curved window seat in the front bar.

One particular visit to the Air Balloon sticks in my mind and followed John Boden and myself borrowing two bicycles from someone at Ullenwood one evening in perhaps 1974 and cycling to visit Great Witcombe Roman villa - we were very much archaeo-nerds at the time. The cycle back was exhausting, on a warm evening, after a hard day's work on the hill, and up that killer of a hill from the direction of Gloucester. When we finally reached the Air Balloon we headed straight for the bar and each had to rapidly order and quickly drink two or three pints of lemonade and lime to rehydrate before we could start on the GL cider. I haven't ridden a bike since.

As John Boden recalls, visits were only ever made to other pubs on very rare occasions, primarily because the Air Balloon was the only pub within walking distance of Ullenwood. On Thursday, as has been mentioned elsewhere on the blog, drinking took place at the Imperial Beer Gardens on Cheltenham Promenade and sometimes on Thursday evenings in The Cotswold in town. An evening visit by car to the White [you mean Golden. Ed.] Heart was, as John recalls, a great treat. I first went there as a passenger in Clive Anderson's splendid red MG sports car-this was in Clive's louche bachelor days-and was much taken with the excellent scrumpy cider and the general rusticity of the place at the time-there was no bar as such, simply barrels of beer and cider on the ground from which customers were served. I expect it's a little grander today."

While we're on Air Balloon memories, do I not recall that there was a very decent governor there in 1976 and 1977 who later fell from grace? I seem to recall he had a fling with one of the diggers (was her name Sandy?) and we all thought he was very nice. Later, it transpired he got bored with the locals one night and lost his job after discharging a shotgun into the ceiling of the pub in an effort to bring a lock-in to an end. This was at a time when the Gloucestershire Police would occasionally lie in wait up the road and look out for car headlights leaving the Balloon at hours later than legitimate and then pounce on the offenders. Hence, I seem to recall being told that they weren't far away and intervened rather swiftly. I think we were told the story when we arrived for the 1978 season and wondered what had happened to the nice bloke who used to run the pub.

I think it's conceivable that I may have attended the odd lock-in myself. Obviously only for the purposes of research, you understand. I think on one or two occasions the police may have joined us for a drink. Surely not? I'm damn sure Chipper joined us for a drink because he more or less lived in the Air Balloon.

It now seems mildly ludicrous, given the ubiquity of the mobile phone, that the Air Balloon porch contained the nearest and only payphone to which 100 plus diggers had access. There was no accessible phone at Ullenwood (though doubtless Lofty had one that could have been called upon by negotiation and in a genuine emergency). If you wanted to make a phone call you had to walk down to the Air Balloon armed with a liberal quantity of 2p pieces.

Many a digger, like me, found out their exam results, hanging on the end of that ancient payphone, desperately hoping the supply 2p bits would last long enough for the phone call home that boded either triumph or disappointment. I remember John Parry kindly bought me a tot or two of Southern Comfort to celebrate my A-level results. At lunchtime on a digging day, as well. What were we thinking, John?