I Bought a Bus!

So many folk have asked me to write about our ‘Bus’ so here goes!

When Fred had completed his thirty three ‘ops’ in October 1944, (missions flying in a Lancaster bomber as Bomb Aimer with 57 Squadron based at East Kirkby) he was given a transfer to the RAF base in Hereford – my home town. We lived with my parents for a while and they were very good to us. But we so wanted to be on our own with own son, John, who was then two years old and ‘Mike’ our dog, (who was named after Fred’s Lancaster ‘M for Mike’). We wanted to make our own decisions and do things ‘our way’. It was impossible to rent anywhere and you could not buy caravans in those days.

One day, while I was out walking through Hereford pushing John in his pram past the bus station, I spotted an empty bus on the forecourt with a sign on ‘Bus for Sale’. I stood and looked at it and thought to myself, “We could live in that and be free as birds!” I went in and enquired how much to buy. The asking price was £40.00 with all the seats and engine removed. Well, I bought it on the spot, went home full of excitement and told my parents, but they were not pleased! My father said, “Dodge, you cannot make these sort of decisions now that you are married, you should have asked Fred first”. My reply was, “What is the point of asking – he would have said ‘no’”. My father ‘twitted’ and ‘tuttered’ - a habit he had when he was worried.

About an hour later Fred got back from the camp, sat down and picked up the paper. I announced, “Fred I bought a bus this afternoon to convert into a caravan for us to live in”. At first he carried on reading the paper but about a minute later he shot up and exclaimed “You what!” – so I explained in full and he blew his top!! And Dad was still ‘tutting’ in the background! “And where do you think you will put it?!!” My immediate reply was, “I will find a place tomorrow”. Subsequently he did not speak to me for two days and all the while my Dad is still ‘tutting’ in the background!

The following morning I walked up to the river road with John in the pram for about one and a quarter miles to a delightful village called ‘Lower Breinton’, spotted the Manor residence, enquired about the name of the owner and boldly went forth and knocked at the front door. The butler answered and I asked, “Please can I speak to Mr Maclaverty”. I was ushered in and a young ‘tweedy’ gentleman came to meet me. I came straight to the point and said, “My name is Dorothy Cole, my husband is stationed at Credenhill. He has recently finished a tour of thirty-three operations in the RAF flying in a Lancaster. He is now teaching air-force law. Yesterday I bought an old bus with the idea of making it into a caravan to live in with our baby and pet dog”. John was still in his pram in the driveway – in those days it was quite safe to leave a baby peacefully sleeping unattended!

I continued, “I was hoping you might be able to help?” His reaction was “Oh how jolly! Let me think – yes I have just the spot, my sister and I used to picnic there. The place is beautiful and private, no one would see you and yes – there is a little gate in the hedge and an electricity pole in the corner you could plug into. There is also a pump down at the bottom of the field for water and the water is pure – we have it checked every year. Come along and I will show it to you so you can see for yourself.” And so we walked up the lane with John still in pram, through a little gate and ‘WOW’ what a spot! I thought I was dreaming. Looking down the meadow was the river Wye and at the bottom was a view overlooking the Welsh Black Mountains in the distance. It was so beautiful and idyllic. “How much would the rent be?” I asked. To my amazement he replied, “Goodness me, I don’t want any rent, I am very pleased to be of help”. I could not believe my ears!

The next day the bus was delivered and I walked up to the spot. It was a Saturday, the local lads were not at school and quickly gathered around fascinated by the new arrival. To my horror when I looked inside the bus all the seats had been removed but they had left all the bolts and screws etc. protruding here, there and everywhere. The lads, with inevitable curiosity looked on, shook their heads and were very sympathetic to my plight. Anyway, I had to go back home and give John his lunch. Fred was still not speaking to me and my Dad was still ‘tutting’ in the background!

After lunch I went back to the bus and could not believe my eyes! The lads who had shook their heads had done no more than return to their homes for tools and had, in my absence, stripped every single nut and bolt! I just could not help having a little cry.

A little bit later Fred appeared, curiosity having got the better of him. The next minute he was in the thick of things, measuring and designing a desk come bookcase behind the driver’s division. Buses in those days had a separate section for the driver. This we converted into a kitchen with a full sized cooker and sink. The fridge was housed under the bonnet! To Fred’s great delight was a sunken examination chamber with a hatch in the floorboards he made into ‘his bar!!’

From then on it was ‘our bus’ and at times ‘his’. My Dad stopped his ‘tuttering’ and all was well with everyone. We partitioned a third off at the back of the bus and made a bedroom with a curtain across the corner for use as a wardrobe. Two orange boxes were turned into a dressing table, with a smart top and curtain around the sides and mirror above – it looked great! We had a small settee made for us and bought a folding table and chairs.

During the day John had his ‘nap’ on the bed in his carrycot that I had made. At night we carried him onto the settee, still in his carrycot and Mike slept in the kitchen. The entire world was smashing and we had some great parties when Fred brought some of his fellow officers over. We bought milk and eggs from the manor farm and fresh vegetables when in season.

About two years later when Fred was ‘demobbed’ we placed an advert in the paper “Bus converted to caravan – must be moved from site”. After all the kindness from Mr Maclavity we did not want him to be troubled or ‘put on the spot’ having the bus removed. He was a very good, kind man and at no time did he mention that he had been unable to go into the forces due to health reasons. It must have been at least three years later when visiting Hereford that we bumped into the farm bailiff who had also been so good to us. As we chatted he asked, “Did you know that the council charged him rates for the bus all the time you were there?” We were stunned, “Why did he not let us know?” The bailiff replied that it was because he was a real gentleman.

There were loads of replies to the advert and many people wanted it. We sold the bus for £400.00 the next morning and watched it being towed away. It was a very happy period in our lives – we were there for one and a half years.

We used the £400.00 as mortgage on our first house just outside Derby, (Fred’s home town). He went back to finish his degree that took two years. There was a grant of £5.00 a week that we were unable to manage on and so I started to make a leather handbag or pair of leather gloves each day for about two years.

Luckily, my parents had taken in an Austrian Jewish family, Mr and Mrs Kirsham who had arrived unexpectedly in a terrible state, desperate to get to America. Fortunately for me it took them a long time and Mrs Kirsham, who happened to make leather gloves, was able, in the meantime, to teach me. Between us we managed to sell pairs of gloves to friends in Hereford. They were a splendid couple and eventually did manage to find a passage to America and join their friends.

I had no trouble selling the gloves though my mother managed to sell most! When Fred finished his degree I never made another pair!!!

© Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.