A Day Out in WW2

To go for a day out on my bike with a friend was one of my great pleasures when I was in my early teens. To set off early in the morning with a packet of sandwiches, a flask of tea in my saddlebag and the open road ahead was wonderful. It appealed to the gypsy in me.
We would set off early in the morning and cycle towards Battlesbridge where we would cross the bridge over the River Crouch. Once over we were in what was to us distant country, far from home. The roads were quiet and the miles sped by. On and on we would go. It was wonderful. We even got as far as the River Blackwater on one outing which was amazing. On that occasion we spotted a tank moving about near the river so we beat a hasty retreat! We did not want to get caught up in army manoeuvres of some sort. Remember, this was wartime.
Although I remember those days as being always sunny I know that there were occasions when the rain poured down. There was the time when there was pelting rain for the last fifteen miles or so of the journey home. This must have been after the war had ended as we were rowed across the river by Mr Swanborough who regularly ferried people, bikes and all, from Burnham to the opposite side of the Crouch and vice versa of course. I know I was a drowned rat by the time I arrived home. Even so, the memory is of a happy day.
The whole atmosphere of those days out was the feeling of freedom that we had. There was little traffic on the roads, and for a few hours we were away from any sort of worry. I don’t think it would be possible to find that feeling in many places these days. There is tension in the air.