Snapshot: Great-grandfather George remembered
Our nine-year-old granddaughter, Eve, asked us recently if we had any information relating to the first world war to help with a school project. We gave her this photograph of her great-grandfather George Haskins, who enlisted in the Denbighshire Yeomanry (later the Royal Welch Fusiliers) in the early days of the war.
George was a hairdresser. He came from Hoylake on the Wirral, where his family ran a sports shop specialising in the making of golf clubs and balls – some of the family were professional golfers and had close links with Hoylake golf club. After he joined up, he became the regimental barber – he is the barber on the right.
He was quite a small man but had lots of personality and a wealth of stories from the war. After the war, he set up a barber’s shop in Manchester – he carried shrapnel in his back until his death at the age of 79.
On the back of the photograph there is a rhyme in a fairly untutored hand, probably his. Eve wrote this for her project, appending George’s lines* at the end.
“My great-grandad was a barber when he signed up for the first world war and used to cut his friends’ hair in the trenches. He wrote this poem then, and 100 years later I completed it.”
“I’m in the trenches, it’s muddy and wet,
It’s hot and sticky, I’m covered in sweat.
There’s smoke all around me,
I’m coughing with fear,
The icy hand of death is near.
Machines go rattle, grenades go BANG!
Aches and pains that really pang.
Dog fights could be heard from miles around …
… back towards camp, I’m homeward bound.
Life may be normal for a tiny bit,
So for now I’ll relax and sit,
*Please step inside and take a chair
Let Mr Haskins cut your hair
‘twill only take a little while to turn you round in his chair.”
Janet Haskins
Playlist: Smooth rap beat that won Mum round
In Da Club by 50 Cent
“Go shawty, it’s your birthday / We gonna party like it’s your birthday”
My mother was horrified by most of the music my 10-year-old sister and I played – the songs were misogynistic, crude and corrupting influences on her “good Catholic” daughters. 50 Cent’s songs in particular were banned after she overheard him rapping “I’ll let you lick my lollipop.” His voice was deemed creepy and that was that.
So when an iPod with shuffled songs accidently started pounding out In Da Club, breaths were held and we were frozen to our car seats. But within seconds she was grooving along to the beat, raising her voice to ask who the “man with the lovely smooth voice” was?
Giggling, we told her (thankfully, she’s always had a good sense of humour!) and we drove on dancing, windows down and car stereo blasting out the rap.
I just hope she never looks up the rest of the lyrics!
Afra Luchesa Smith
We love to eat: Tuesday Night Concoction (TNC)
Ingredients
Cooked Asian noodles or rice
Onion
Garlic (lots)
Fresh green chillies (chopped)
Fresh coriander (chopped)
Ground spices or curry powder (various but cumin, garam masala, ground coriander and turmeric are all good)
Fry the onion and garlic with the spices and add whatever you like – we used to put in tinned sardines or tuna, cooked chicken, vegetables, chickpeas, kidney beans ... whatever we fancied or was in the cupboard. The only hard and fast rule was that it had to be spicy enough to satisfy our Anglo-Asian craving for heat.
I’m not sure when the Tuesday Night Concoction first came about in our house, but shoulder pads were huge, earrings were big and Boon was on the telly, so I’d guess the late 80s.
My newly acquired stepdad was a keen tenpin bowler and had a permanent team fixture on Tuesday nights. With full control of the TV and no need for a “meat and two veg” meal, my sister and I would settle down for a blissful, man-less evening and eagerly await whatever delicious concoction my mum would rustle up.
No two weeks were ever quite the same, but this delicious, one-pot, one-bowl meal was always eaten on our laps in front of the telly, the three of us sharing a bag of sliced bread to dip into the aromatic juices.
The TNC is still going strong. Nearly 20 years ago, when I moved in with my now husband, he also had a permanent Tuesday night fixture – five-a-side football – which still exists to this day. Back then, and pre-children, it was TNC for one in our south London flat. Nowadays, it can extend to TNC for two if my 15-year-old daughter is feeling adventurous and, occasionally, to three if Mum is visiting. Unfortunately, my 11-year-old son doesn’t seem to share my love of it … perhaps it’s time he got a Tuesday night fixture of his own!
Sabia Morrison
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