MEMORIES OF SHOEBURYNESS
by Ruby Thomas
Don't ask me to tell you about gunnery procedure, long-range experiments, rigid discipline or high explosives, because I know nothing about these, and they are out of date anyway. These are only the repeatable anecdotes of a happy place.
My husband, eventually Brigadier G.P. Thomas OBE, was posted to the Second Medium Battery, Royal Artillery, at Shoeburyness in 1933. His first thought was to find a home for his family, so he wrote to the Adjutant and asked for a Major's quarter. The reply said this was impossible as he was only a Captain. He answered that he was aware of that fact and would be grateful for a Captain's quarter. The Adjutant replied "Out of the question. You are shortly to be promoted". This correspondence went on tediously until we were allotted a comfortable Major's quarter with a large garden, and settled down happily.
Army life has the advantage of living among people in the same line of business: service to King and Country. We spoke the same language and liked the same things.
Every summer came Shoebury Week, a very gay time with cricket matches, tennis tournaments, gymkhanas, amateur theatricals and dinner parties galore. The famous Royal Artillery band gave a concert, having previously asked for suggestions for the programme. A notice was put up in the Mess to this effect, but the Adjutant came to me for help as none of the officers had made any. So I made a list of items that I thought would please the audience. I remember it well. It was Brahms' Hungarian Dances, the Nutcracker Suite, the 1812 Overture, Debussy's Clair de Lune and the Unfinished Symphony. The orchestra was delighted and played the lot! A few of the senior officers dozed off but I enjoyed it immensely!
The rest of the year was spent in private entertaining and raising funds for army charities. The children had a wonderful time with sports and riding. The local telephone operator knew exactly what was going on and was most helpful. When I rang up a couple to ask them to dinner she would say "Sorry, they are out, but you could get them at the Colonel's house where they are having dinner."
My husband was very popular with his men and looked after them well. I visited the wives to help sort out their problems. I couldn't do the lot in one day, so I made a list so that I could tick off the ones that were in with a few remarks to aid my memory such as "Mrs Atkins, middle aged, fuzzy hair, wears glasses, 3 noisy kids." When I got home the list had disappeared. Who picked it up, I wonder?
One day a sergeant came to ask me if I would lend him some rugs. Of course I said yes but wondered what he wanted them for. Over a beer I gathered that a Brigadier was coming to inspect the barracks and the sergeant thought it would be nice if the troops had mats between their beds. They were returned the day after the inspection.
The private bathing beach was a great asset. One hard winter the sea froze near the shore and in hot weather the phosphorescence was beautiful for midnight bathing.
I did a lino-cut drawing of the colossal gun on the sea wall which was a feature of Shoebury. When the gun was used for practice we were informed by telephone and warned to open every window as the blast might shatter them. But I would have known anyway as my dog used to tear home and hide under the kitchen table ten minutes before the bang. I did another lino-cut of the old gateway to the barrack, which was used for the regimental Christmas card.
In 1938 my husband was sent to Singapore where we lived for eight months when the war broke out. So ended five years of peacetime fun at Shoeburyness.
