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8.15 a.m. 9th March 1948, it was my time to arrive. I had already become used to intrusions into my little womb. These invasive events had always been accompanied by some strange rhythmic burbly watery noises. This new invasive event was different though, I was slowly being squashed.

Finally, it stopped. I was born into my new world equipped with full sound.

A bit of a volume increase perhaps from what I was accustomed to. This new noise was becoming sustained by perhaps too much sustenance. .

 

Clear and crisp, the `air on the right side of my head felt quite cool. The left side of my face was up against it, it, was something soft and warm. The small opening in my face was being filled with knobbly skin. This new event was quickly followed by the peculiar silent sensation of warm liquid going in and out of both ends of my body at the same time. These warm tracts were to become my first record in my laid down life. I was not a single en`titty then, but part of a hole.

 

St. Martins Hospital in Bath, Somerset was where I interacted on my first stage in life. I had a premonition on that day that maybe this location would not become my final Resting Place. It might however figure later on in life, (in some time to come), perhaps 17 figures or so. On borrowed time then, I was given a clean slate and Terrys nappy to prepare me for my new lessons in life. I didn`t expect or suppose for one moment that Terry would ever want it back.

 

The City Of Bath was by now blessed with two new Williams children and Railways. (All post-war children were expected to be born under a gooseberry bush, but in reality early records would show that they were to be found not too far from a Railway track). Both children were born to become the lifeblood of the United Kingdom and to help transport its power through the arteries of our worldwide Empire.

 

My first stop in this journey through life was 54 Third Avenue in Oldfield Park, Bath, Somerset. Here I was served steam sounds and soot on a daily basis by the "Slow and Dirty", (Somerset & Dorset) and "Gods Wonderful Railway" (Great Western Railway). My new days spent in the garden were to become filled with the sounds of whistles, smells of soot and steam. A legacy, (I could bank on it), it, a raised section of  Railway track being less than 200 yards (and a small coal yard) away.

 

From the entrance to my cave came a light, a very bright light, it flooded in behind my eyelids. Perhaps it was like me, a new son. I became aware of receiving sharp echoes of other similar sounds beyond my new experience.

I was also feeling my feet now, kicking against something that resisted. Sounds like my own were coming from the cave entrance opposite me, ghoulish girly sounds, they seemed to be coming from the dark side.

 

Being two-berth perambulator owners my parents had filled it up with one of each type of baby. As a safeguard measure, considering the current economy crisis perhaps. (Rationing was still in force, you got what you could, when you could get it. The Second World War had only just ended).

 

The resister at my feet, was my sister, Rose. She was 16 months older than me, and she often joined me in the "Brotherhood of Man" pram. Her hip was being held in place with a wooden splint and some plaster of Paris bandage, she suffered with a condition called "hip displasia" as well as a severe bout of "displeasia" with her new little brother.

 

The sun was up, and by now so was the hood on our pram, we were out in the front garden, only a few feet from the road. Anyone could have leant over the low fence or come in though the gateway to kidnap us .. but you didn`t hear of such things then. Our front door was usually open as well. 

I could hear the kettle whistle going “Pphhheeeee“, tea was on, and so was “Two Way Family Favourites“ on the radio. A requests and contact program for our Forces overseas. (I learnt about this later on when I could talk).

 

A new sound too! The buzzing was faint to start with, then it got louder and louder. I could feel air against my face again, short `air, then the sensation came to an abrupt halt. I was so shocked that I opened my eyelids, the buzz noise came back. I could see a Black and Yellow striped object moving away and becoming smaller in my eye. It was busy with buzzing off quietly, but very sharpish.

 

I had no sensation of time yet, but this Black and Yellow object had seemed to feel light to the touch, and it came and went in a moment. The pain that it left behind lasted longer, much longer! A new sound also arrived with it, it came from little old me! I had found my volume control at last, and was now going flat out in my pram.

 

The next thing I remember was the pram hood going back, and the bright light. I was being quickly uplifted into warm arms. and about to be given my second lasting impression of life. I was transported quickly at shoulder height along the short cool passageway toward the kitchen and back room. A woman, (who I found out later was my mother), began stuffing a blue square bag into my eye. The blue square bag filled my eye line and my cheek with relief. (The old bag was useful after all then)

 

“Wahhhh“ was one of my first ever words. It had come with the wasp that had settled on my cheek just below my right eye.  My response to this new sudden attention from my mother was another “Wahhhhh .. only louder, and much, much longer. The sun had gone in .. into the downstairs back room. It was here where the sound of the radio drowned out all the other noises.

 

I looked over my mother`s shoulder as she carried me into this room, and I could see the wooden "meat safe" on the kitchen table. It had a wire mesh door on the front of it to let the air in. It was being surrounded by a forest of flies, a humming mass, all eager to get at what was inside. (These were the days before refrigerators were common-place household items).

 

"Cheeky", was it the name of my game, or maybe my name? Although not yet at school, I was being exposed to early peer pressure. Women would look into my pram, give me a squeeze and say, "Who`s a cheeky little boy then?" and other words like "You must be proud of him Mrs Williams, he`s a lovely little nipper".

Having not been supplied with any teeth yet, I quickly computed that I was a little nipper with no byte. Liquids (for now) were my only succour, I quickly became a sucker for milk.

 

 

"Bottle & Teat, a very portable treat, but milk tastes the best, straight from the meat!"

 

 

Back to the Back room. Here I received yet another new noisy surprise,  yet another very loud voice. "Wakey Wakey!" .. Da Da Da Da Daa Daaah!.

Not a record sized volume or a recording, alive sound. Not my Fathers or My Masters Voice, but a voice somewhat more robust and rounded, a more distant one.

 

"Waaahhhh!", (a first real expletive as far as I was concerned), was my equally loud repeated response to this bewildering assault on my brand new auditory senses by the Billy Cotton Band Show radio programme.

 

Sleep (and a sheet) was upon me, my eyelids had been over exercised today, and so two my lungs ! The air was on my face again from the part open bedroom sash window. The flowery patterned curtain blew gently against the window pane, as if to try and stop the air getting in.

 

Light & dark, the room was very slowly going light & dark. This constant rhythm of the fading light behind my eyelids soon lulled me into a sense of security, (in my new Nanny State), and then into a really sound sleep.

 

My first term in life was now over, the lessons learned had included the fact that I couldn`t count on my spelling to make a living. That anything objectionable involved "Black & yellow" and became a painful experience that was to be avoided at all costs.

The knowledge that my own new sounds had bought some pressure to bear on my parents ears, that my own hearing process was on track, and it was being well trained by the local railways.

 

I also discovered that a degree of education makes you appear to be a brighter sort of person, but too much brightness keeps you awake at night. It`s always best to keep Mum, (about what you don`t know), and never kick anyone when they are down, (especially if it`s your sister).

Always "in a vest" early for the best possible growth.

 

These early mammary memories were always destined to become these  little short chapters within my life story.

 

But now, as I scratch around frantically in my failing filing system, they were also destined to become the cleanest looking tracks that I would find in the "Magical MysteTour" recordings that became my long-playing life, (I knew from the start that this was always going to be a long sentence, and I was about to be proved right by my Gramma`!).

 

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