Keep The Home Fires Burning

The photos from my Easter visit to the 1940’s Home Front event at Crich are now uploaded.  Rather than photograph a 1940’s event in the present day, I wanted to assemble an album of images depicting wartime life as if I had actually been there at the time – which, contrary to appearances, I was not.  At least, I don’t think I was.

Photographing early in the day was quite straightforward as the majority of people at opening time were in period dress, but as the morning wore on the number of present-day people steadily increased, and crept into view with maddening frequency.  This naturally made taking authentic shots more tricky, particularly as the people who did make it into view tended to be the – ah – less photogenic members of society.  In most cases some judicious cropping or minor editing got rid of the problem, and a large number of pictures had to be dumped altogether.  What remains is a reflection of life in the UK in a typical town and surrounding countryside.

The album clearly shows the amount of hard work and dedication that goes into creating these events.  Many pictures were un-posed, fly-on-the-wall type shots to capture people simply going about their business, chatting, working or troops in training.  The trams and buildings helped create the illusion and set the scene for most photos.  I edited the whole set in black and white to give it a period feel, which also disguised some contemporary items that couldn’t be removed from otherwise pleasing images.  The album may be seen here.

Psst - Wanna Buy Some Nylons?

Like most people across the UK during the Easter break, I hauled my Black & Decker drill out of the pit of Hades beneath the stairs.  Unlike everybody else, however, I took mine for a day out to a tram museum.  No, I haven’t been sniffing anything other than Iveco exhaust fumes lately, and I did have a good reason for this unexpected situation.

Sunday was the 1940’s Gala at Crich Tramway Museum in Derbyshire, and having previously stumbled across such an event last September at The Nene Valley Railway (story here), I particularly wanted to pay a visit.  The Crich event would be different to that held at the Nene Valley where the emphasis was on battles fought between re-enactors.  Here the theme was ‘The Home Front’, a recreation of life in England during the Second World War.

London Transport E1 tram passes troops and civilians outside the Red Lion.  

This scene epitomises 1940's Britain on The Home Front.

I’d noticed at the NV that a large number of people, not just the military re-enactors, came in period costume and got into the spirit of the occasion.  Thus it was that I decided that I too would go along in style; blend in and actually take part in the event.  I only stumbled across the Crich event online during Saturday, which entailed a bit of a rush to get ready.  My chosen guise was a blackmarket spiv character, inspired by Private Joe Walker of Dad’s Army fame.  I required a 40’s style suit with pale pinstripe and wide lapels – not a problem as the frequency with which I update my wardrobe ensured that I had one hanging up already.  A trilby hat was essential; after trawling through nine charity shops in Grantham the PDSA came up trumps with a black one which was too small (or my head was too big – say it, I won’t take umbrage) but it was that or nothing.  I took it.  There wasn’t an old battered suitcase to be found for love, money or even by bribing my MP – but this event was about the years of make do, mend and improvise, so that’s what I did.  By making my electric drill homeless for the day, I had a black plastic case that I disguised a bit by downloading some luggage stickers and labels from the net and plastering them over the case.  It wasn’t much, but better than turning up with my Chinese made backpack – all those years of Blue Peter finally coming up trumps.

An established spiv displays 'gifts for the ladies' to the Officers on leave.

At Crich itself the re-enactors were out in force with plenty of military uniforms in evidence, backed up by a large contingent of civilians from all walks of life and it really brought the street scene alive.  Displays of army camps, military vehicles, an ARP post and a Home Guard Signing-on station were just a few of the attractions that combined with the backdated street scene and the trams (themselves blacked out for wartime regulations) added a feeling of authenticity to the day.  

The set pieces were well researched and recreated with meticulous attention to detail.

I decided not to film as there wasn’t really a theme that would translate to movie format particularly well – and despite the fantastic costumes and scenes, there were far too many 21st Century people getting in shot.  Instead, I went purely for still photographs, aiming to capture, by and large, small cameo scenes of 1940’s life.  Some shots were posed on request (and every single person approached was extremely helpful with this) whilst others were taken fly-on-the-wall style to catch real life unguarded scenes.

I also became aware during the day that people were photographing me – a strange feeling.  After years of doing the photography, I was accustomed to ducking out of the way when people pointed cameras in my direction, as they usually want to get a shot of what I’m standing in front of!  This is the first time I’ve actually been the subject – and like my subjects, the photographers just wanted to capture me being Joe Walker going about my business rather than posing specifically for the shots.  Of course, I duly explained that as a dodgy spiv, if anyone pointed a camera at me then I’d be out of there sharpish, Guv!

You're nicked mate!

This led to the realisation that if people thought I was a spiv, then best get into character and start being a spiv with other re-enactors.  That opened up plenty of doors, I have to say.  First call was to the trade stalls, where I purchased a new trilby of a size which could accommodate my head (note careful phrasing) and a genuine battered suitcase for a mere £12 – to which I transferred my labels from the Black & Decker case.  I now felt much more in character, and immediately went off to sell nylons to the ladies.  This went down extremely well and caused much amusement, which surprised me, because when I ask girls about their lingerie requirements in Asda, I get a slap.  Strange world.

My new case with labels attached - this looked and felt the part.  The owner of the motorbike

allowed me use it as a prop because I gave him some petrol rations, nudge, nudge - say no more.

My first customers.

As the day progressed I got more involved with the atmosphere, and although the event was held at the Tramway Museum I actually only rode one tram.  It was one that I had my eye on, London Transport car 331.  It may have begun life as a soft southerner, but ended its days as hard-as-nails Sunderland bogie car 100.  So why did I feel the need to travel on it?  Well, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to ride on another tram that me Mam (as we say up north) had gone to school in.  Obviously.

Riding Sunderland trams has become a family tradition.

Overall it was a fantastic day and the actor in me, which has lain dormant ever since I was cast in the role of ‘The Moon’ for a St Nicholas Youth Club play (please don’t ask) revelled at the chance of playing a character.  I’d recommend visiting a re-enactment event to anyone who has an interest in history, particularly if you fancy get involved along the way.  Just don’t forget your Black & Decker case – but remember to take the drill out first!!

Only another four of me five a day to go...

Preparing for a drill (but not a Black & Decker!)

Oh No, I Don't Believe it ...

On Saturday I was out on my travels again, armed once again with camera, tripod and a pack-up. I was heading towards the Peak District and the Tramway Museum at Crich, followed by a trip to The Midland Railway Centre.

After a very frustrating drive up what was once the M1 and is now, in the East Midlands, a 12 mile stretch of road cones, piles of gravel, average speed cameras and very little else I arrived at my destination. Crich Tramway Museum does trams, as you might expect, but in a way that only Britain can do museums. I’ve noticed recently, with a flurry of visits to heritage sites in the UK, that if there’s one thing we do well – better than any other nation, I believe - it’s the past. Every site I’ve visited so far has been beautifully presented, enthusiastically staffed with knowledgeable personnel, immaculate, well designed and provides value for money. So any chance of the people who run the past in Britain taking up posts in Government and applying the same treatment to Britain, here and now? We could certainly do with it.

Crich was fairly quiet on my arrival, and only three trams were running, which was a pity, but predictable as the season winds down. I was after some footage of generic British trams for a video project, so I chose the small but nicely restored town street area for the run pasts. Despite the fact that few visitors were about, they all contrived to push very large and very modern baby buggies into view on almost every shot. I wanted people in the shots to add character, and I don’t even mind if they walk in front of the camera, as it adds a dimension of fly-on-the-wall to the footage - and at Beamish some of the best shots came about this way. But baby buggies are monstrous things; bigger than the trams in some cases. And the equipment levels – they have more kit on them than my car. I have a friend with a baby, and her buggy has cupholders, for God’s sake. No doubt they’ll soon be fitted with satnavs as standard.



Crich offers a service that an increasing number of such sites have adopted recently; purchase a ticket and then receive free entry for an entire year after that. It is an excellent idea to encourage repeat visits, and presumably they make the money back with the catering and gift shops – so no one loses out. Crich is £10.50, and that represents outstanding value. I only stayed for three hours, mainly shooting video, but didn’t do the full look-round as I needed to get off a few miles down the road to the Midland Railway Centre at Butterley. I’ve been to Crich quite a few times anyway, and expect to return soon.



At Butterley I was again after some fairly generic steam-age footage, and fancied a change to the Nene Valley for variety. Butterley Station is very attractive, and I arrived just in time for the scheduled arrival of a train. 20 minutes later I was bored with waiting, and as a footpath runs down the line to nearby Swanwick Junction, set off to see what was up. On the way, I heard the train coming, some half hour late, which is pretty good going on a 3-mile long track. Still, I set up to get a lineside shot in the cutting, and this is what I got ….


I don’t believe it! Another bloody Thomas! Yes, the Jinty tank loco used as sole motive power was Thomas, in all his pale blue glory. The name and number had been removed, but there’s no disguising everything else. Fortunately I’m editing in black and white, so the worst effects can be mitigated, but I think it’s pretty poor to run one engine in steam and offer this.

Still I was here now, so continued to Swanwick Junction. The footpath takes you past several long sidings full of preserved, but not restored, railway vehicles. There are lots of these all over Swanwick, seemingly dumped and abandoned rusting derelict hulks of DMU’s, coaches and wagons. The whole area looks like a glorified scrapyard, rather than a working museum. Now, I understand that restoration is a long and expensive process, but all the vehicles dumped in the sidings next to the main line were there during my last visit in the 1990’s. It presents a poor image to the public, for whom this is their ‘Welcome to Swanwick’ presentation, whether they are arriving on foot or on the train. A long line of tatty DMU vehicles in faded Scotrail livery sitting at Swanwick station doesn’t help much, either.

My point here is that I believe that there is far too much emphasis on acquisition and not enough on restoring what they already have. I’d rather see two lovingly restored and operational DMU’s instead of nine rusting hulks. If there is no intention of restoring the vintage vehicles dumped in the sidings, it would be better to scrap them altogether and channel resources into feasible projects. This might sound like heresy from an enthusiast, but come on, be practical here and live in the real world. Alternatively, why can’t these (very) long term projects be moved to an area away from public view, and then place the restored stock next to the running lines? I’ve been to a lot of heritage sites this year, and they all manage that part of their business very well. Image is important in the modern world, and what will the casual visitor to Swanwick remember about their visit?

Consequently I made my way back to Butterley Station, which conversely, is a shining example of how a preserved railway should look. The station is beautifully restored with good attention to period detail, as seen here.


I decided to get a shot or two of Thomas in operation and depart, but despite myself, I found that I was growing to like the place and stayed until the last train. The station offered some interesting shooting possibilities and locations, and at least without a face and a name, I could disguise the loco to look like a loco. But it looks as though I’ll have to ask Ringo Star to do the voice over…..

All photos are screengrabs from the video footage, hence the less than perfect reproduction.