Any old iron for our out-of-control sled

DURING the winter of 1947, I had just had my sixth birthday. I was living with my parents in married quarters next to the garrison of the (now) Royal School of Engineers in Gillingham, Kent. Father was in the Royal Engineers at the time. The snow came to the top of our garden fence, about 3ft, but after being cleared off the roads by Army snowploughs there was about 4in of packed snow, ideal for sliding. Three other boys and I found an old sheet of corrugated iron with the end bent upwards, to which we attached a length of strong twine, so we could pull it along. We dragged our sled along Pasley Road East to the top of the hill that went down Pasley Road North, which was about 100 yards long. After a few yards, we were going fast enough to be able to stop pushing and jump onto our sled, and then we began to go faster and faster — it was a steep hill. We were about 30 yards from the bottom and the junction with Khyber Road when a squad of soldiers came out of the gateway from their training school and marched four abreast up the hill. We couldn’t steer — there are too many runners on a sheet of corrugated steel — and we didn’t have any brakes. The squad parted in the middle and marched around us with many of the soldiers laughing and joking with us, but warning us of traffic on the Khyber Road. Fortunately, the road levelled out, and we were able to stop before facing any danger. I still remember looking back and seeing that the squad had stopped and were keeping an eye on us. Each of the four of us had a go at being the captain of our ‘snow-ship’ for each run, so we must have dragged it up to the top of the hill four times. Then it was back home for some hot chocolate, or was it Ovaltine? We certainly kept fit and got plenty of fresh air, with no health-and-safety rules to worry us, just good common sense drummed into us at an early age.

M. Chambers, Newark, Notts.