Forever Torn

C17: Moving Away (1/2)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: Moving Away

'Name?'

'Harry Gilvicious.'

'Age?'

'Twenty.' Officially Harry's age was registered as January 27th 1920 although this was a date given by his grandfather who misremembered and later even Smeras acknowledged that it was impossible he had actually been born that early – more likely 8 – 14 months after, but Harry never even contemplated explaining any of that to an official.

After several more questions he was sent through to a medical examiner who told him to take his shirt off. He did so and a multitude of fitness tests followed.

Presently Harry Gilvicious was told his health was excellent, his eyesight a little weak but within the acceptable range and if he would present his identity card or other identifying papers, he could fill in the last of the forms and consider himself officially a soldier in the British army.

With an eager and excited feeling, Harry turned over his papers and was left sitting in a waiting room where he proceeded to day dream about his exciting new future and wonder if he would be sent to fight the Germans and that thought sent a thrill of trepidation through him.

Presently a fair haired officer with a blonde moustache and a kindly, but serious look to him emerged from the door which his papers had been taken through. Harry stood to attention and as it seemed the appropriate action to take, he saluted.

The officer told him to be at ease and then went on to explain that while his fitness and willingness to serve were unquestioned, they were very much afraid that Harry couldn't serve with the forces. He handed the young man back his papers.

'I ... don't understand,' said Harry as it sank in, 'I want to serve my country sir.'

The officer shook his head, a sad look on his face. 'Your sentiment is admirable young man, but you are officially classified as a foreign national, a Lithuanian according to your papers.'

'But ... I've been in England since I was nine years old!'

'That may be so but you do not possess a British passport or citizenship and as a consequence you are barred from service in His Majesty's armed forces.'

It was further explained to Harry that it would be incumbent on him to update his papers to get one of the new identity cards and that as a foreign national over the age of eighteen, he should be aware that if he wished to travel or spend a night away from home, it should be reported.

After that Harry drifted for a while, bored and unemployed well into 1941, eventually securing a weekend job working in a warehouse in Houndsditch which paid 30 shillings. Things were about to get more exciting though – a letter arrived from his old employers.

The governors of Gold and Bloom were reopening almost a year after the destruction of the Glasshouse Yard factory but this time they were doing it a bit closer to home – their home. Previously the brothers had commuted from the coast where they lived to London where they worked, but now it seemed to make a lot more sense to reopen in Brighton.

Harry was one of five ex members of staff who accepted the invitation of a job providing they were also willing to relocate. He was twenty and he was leaving home – it was an exciting time.

Gold and Bloom were to arrange lodgings in a residential hotel in the New Steen area of Brighton (a half mile from the new factory) and pay him the glorious sum of £5 a week (a fixed wage) to come and work for them again. His full board cost £1.50 a week and because the new setup meant he was no longer living at home and paying money into the family kitty, he got to keep the remaining £3.50.

He was lodged in a pleasantly decorated single room on the second floor and ate his meals in the residents dining room where he soon got to know his neighbours. Most were old people – That, he was used to what with growing up since 1930 with his grandparents and all of their friends in and out and plenty of older relatives visiting frequently – but these people had one important difference...

For the first time in his life, Harry was living with non Jews and this was a revelation to him. He got on well enough with most of them though and any minor incidents he did have with other residents were mostly down to the usual generation gap clashes instead of anything culturally.

In the lounge for example when the Colonel, a particularly crusty old boy came in and insisted on listening to cricket or chamber music on the wireless and Harry turned it over to listen to some swing and jazz instead, this would lead to minor arguments and comments about the bad manners of the younger generation! Harry found he couldn't win when several of the old folk were present and insisted on listening to their station! On those occasions he went upstairs to read in his room.

To start with home life, which included relaxing at the hotel and also long walks to explore his new town, was one half of his Brighton experience. The other half of course was work.

The new premises of Gold and Bloom were on the site of an old car showroom within one of the town's busy shopping areas. It was equipped with thirty machines and the windows were blackened as a precaution against the bombing raids, enabling workers to continue on into the evening.

Inside it was very well lit but late working mainly affected the bosses – Harry's own schedule was a 9am start following a brisk walk to work in the morning and he finished at 5.30 pm allowing him plenty of time to get back to the hotel for dinner at 6pm. On Saturdays the staff worked a half day. He was given a weeks wages in advance to set himself up.

At work the shortages soon affected the ability of the firm to get the materials they needed and so they started to advertise for old felt hats. The hats were taken in to the machinists after being cleaned and were then stripped down so the materials could be reused and then the usual procedure of blocking and lining could begin – the only difference being that instead of the old swathes of materials, the lining was made from trimmings from the old hats.

In addition to his regular duties, once again Harry found himself on fire duty, but was relieved when it soon became apparent that very few bombs if any were going to be dropped near Brighton and the factory – apart from that his time was his own and he got bored very quickly.

On the recommendation of the factory manager (Syd Kersh had known Harry in London – he too had relocated to the coast where he got a flat in Portslade and hoped his wife and daughter would be able to follow him down from London when he was established) Harry joined the Brighton and Hove Maccabi Club so he could socialize with other Jewish people as he had back home.

Maccabi Clubs were mainly sports orientated but had a separate social side to them and that's what Harry went for – the dances and mixers – especially popular were the Saturday Club dances which happened after the Sabbath and many people even came down from London to these events.

In addition to this he started to get involved in Amateur Dramatics and the friends he made at the dances and activities stood him in good stead when it came to filling in his free time. On Jewish holidays he was invited along to many people's homes as he was living alone in a strange town – that was the Jewish way, to welcome strangers and make sure they weren't alone on the Sabbath and holy days.