Many an eventful Christmas in the Gardner household

In these Yuletide days, my thoughts invariably turn to boyhood Christmasses. In 1946 we were living in a woodman’s cottage set between two Snowdonian mountains. Christmas Day brought two hand-crafted models of a Spitfire and a Lancaster bomber, made by my 12-year-old brother. Another parcel contained the much-awaited Rupert Bear annual from Uncle Norman and Auntie Winnie. They were still sending it every year, even when I was aged 14. Christmas 1946 brought, at first sight, a hugely desirable and hefty joint of beef, despatched by a thoughtful doctor family friend from Dublin.

Alas, the meat had been in the post for a week or more and when unwrapped stank to high heaven. The only course wastoburyitdeepintheback garden.

Seven years on and Christmas Eve 1953 turned out to be a traumatic shocker. Dad was driving down from the Midlands to our home in

Cornwall. At the wheel of a spanking new A40, Dad was carefully “running it in”, which meant travelling at no more than 30mph. On the back seat was the Christmas turkey and a bag of other gifts. Just outside Bridgewater as Dad approached an open farm gate at the nearside kerb, a young couple smacked a cow on the rump and it lurched right in front of the new vehicle. Crunch!

The car was virtually a writeoff while the cow (which was in calf) lay dead.

The accident meant Dad had to transfer to the next available train and finally arrived home in St Austell close to midnight, tired and upset, especially over the death of the animal as much as the loss of the car. Christmas in the Gardner household in the 1940s and 1950s was experienced in a haze of tobacco smoke. Mum, sister Ann and brother Paul were fag smokers, while Dad puffed on his pipe, filled with his favourite St Bruno Flake. This mass inhalation was the norm in most homes then when, it seemed, everyone smoked.

I hadn’t yet developed the habit, but did collect cigarette cards and packets.

There was a vast array of brands in that era, and Christmas was marked by all manner of exotic and unusual smokes.

Red and White and Black and White cigs came in attractive tins of 25.

Aside from the everyday Senior Service, Player’s, Capstan and Gold Flake, there were rarities like Three Castles, Passing Clouds, Abdulla and Joy Sticks. At Christmas all these collectable items appeared in tempting and enlarged 50 and 100 boxes.

‘This mass inhalation was the norm in most homes then when, it seemed, everyone smoked’