Open Writing

…I went in to the Long Bar, a 'Watering Hole’ over many decades for the famous and the infamous who had refreshed themselves there: from Lawrence of Arabia to Generals Kitchener, Allenby, Alexander, Montgomery, Eisenhower and also Winston Churchill and Anthony Eden...

While having a drink in the famous Shepheards Hotel in Cairo John Powell receives proof that he has been conned.

To read earlier chapters of John’s gloriously readable autobiography please click on Shalom And Sheiks in the menu on this page.

Continue reading "26 – Old Tricks" »

Posted by Shalom And Sheiks at 12:12 PM | Permalink

John Powell, on a visit to Cairo, takes pity on a man who in desperation is selling off the family jewels.

To read earlier chapters of John's sparkling autobiogrpahy please click on Shalom And Sheiks in the menu on this page.

Continue reading "25 - Assailed By Guilt" »

Posted by John Powell at 12:12 PM | Permalink

...With wonder I heard the soft pad of camels' feet and the jingling bells of their harness. I was intrigued to see the overladen donkey trotting along under its massive load, the Arab womenfolk balancing large bundles of spraywood on their heads and walking so gracefully, with swinging hips. Even the Arab sitting alongside his barrow in the market, selling a load of carrots, the same and yet so different from his counterpart in a London market...

John Powell is entranced by his first glimpse of the Middle East.

To read earlier chapters of John's equally entrancing autobiography please click on Shalom And Sheiks in the menu on this page.

Continue reading "24 - Fascinating Land Of Contrasts" »

Posted by John Powell at 11:22 AM | Permalink

...I reported to the Welsh Guards Training Battalion at Sandown Park, and at once, we junior officers were back on the parade ground — square bashing, this time under a Regimental Sergeant-Major but with a slight difference. With Sergeant Daly it had been, "Guardsman Powell, you idle man, swing your arms up!" Now, from the Regimental Sergeant-Major, it was, "Swing your arms up, Mr Powell, Sir, please."...

John Powell becomes an officer in the Welsh Guards.

To read earlier chapters of John's buoyant autobiography please click on Shalom And Sheiks in the menu on this page.

Continue reading "23 - Officers" »

Posted by John Powell at 11:22 AM | Permalink

..."I've never seen anything like it in all me life!" It was like coming home again. He was reputed to have the loudest voice in the army. Nobody ever disputed the claim and his drilling of all the companies of the whole OCTU was an unforgettable event.

"BATT—ALLEE—UN—SHUN!" would be heard all over Aldershot. Then without fail would follow, "That third man from the left, centre rank of C Company, you are idle. Take his name, Sergeant, for being idle on parade." And the unfortunate individual 'lost his name'...

John Powell's training as a Guards officer becomes tougher - and louder!

To read earlier chapters of John's splendid autobiography please click on Shalom And Sheiks in the menu on this page.

Continue reading "22 - Stunned Into Disbelief" »

Posted by John Powell at 11:22 AM | Permalink

...As we progressed we took turns in drilling the squad. If the command was given on the wrong foot, the squad would continue onwards. Once I kept failing to allow my voice to carry the distance. The squad went further and further away, heading for the main gate. Sergeant Daly turned to me and said, "Well, for God's sake, before they disappear for ever, tell 'em something, even if it's only 'Good bye'." With a barked command he brought them to a halt...

John Powell recalls his days of training to be a Guardsman.

To read earlier chapters of John's exhilirating autobiography please click on Shalom And Sheiks in the menu on this page.

Continue reading "21 - A Good Combination" »

Posted by John Powell at 12:12 PM | Permalink

...The interview was pleasant, his first question being that of a typical Welshman, "So, you were at Tonbridge; were you in the rugby football team?"

"Yes, Sir, I was; I love the game, I have been playing it since I was five."

There was an intake the very next day and he added my name to the list. There followed a hectic dash for another medical, then a quick haircut, short back and sides, and the next day I reported to the Guards' Depot at Caterham, conveniently located next door to a lunatic asylum. All the months I had been waiting for the RAF call up, had taken me as many minutes to join the Brigade of Guards...

John Powell enlists in the Welsh Guards - and loud voices are soon bellowing into his ears.

To read earlier chapters of John's ebullient autobiography please click on Shalom And Sheiks in the menu on this page.

Continue reading "20 - The Brigade Of Guards" »

Posted by John Powell at 12:12 PM | Permalink

Old Zeke was on sentry duty one very dark, pitch-black night when he heard footsteps near the camp gate and challenged, as all good sentries do, unless they have dozed off. "HALT!" he yelled. "Who goes there?" He was absolutely word perfect.

He became suspicious at once when, from the darkness, came the reply, "Aw, piss off, Gran'pa!"

John Powell continues his hilariously entertaining autobiography. To read earlier episodes please click on Shalom And Sheiks in the menu on this page.

Continue reading "19 - Old Zeke" »

Posted by John Powell at 11:22 AM | Permalink

...Complaints flooded in very promptly from the hotel managements, the police, the ARP, all and sundry. A Fleet Street night editor even phoned to ask if it were true that Hyde Park had been blown up, while fire watchers reported a rocket in vertical position, flying horizontally, leaving a trail of sparks across the dome of the Albert Hall and wobbling along like a pregnant duck...

John Powell tells of the kerfuffle which followed the firing of anit-aircraft rockets.

To read more of John's invigorating life story please click on Shalom And Sheiks in the menu on this page.

Continue reading "18 - A Rocket For The Rockets" »

Posted by John Powell at 11:22 AM | Permalink

...Suddenly, the ear-splitting alarm bell rang. TAKE POSTS!" yelled Sergeant Walters.

As usual, old Joe, the Lambeth Council lavatory attendant, rolled out of bed, forgetting that he was on the top bunk, and crashed on top of Bill Steers, businessman and factory owner. As they sorted themselves out, Sir Ernest, of the Foreign Office, pulled a boot half on then let out a yell, "Something bit me."...

John Powell tells of the night when the ainti-aircraft rockets were at last fired.

To read more of John's wonderfully engaging autobiography please click on Shalom And Sheiks in the menu on this page.

Continue reading "17 - Droppings From Dad's Army" »

Posted by John Powell at 12:12 PM | Permalink

...Our battery was composed of four Troops, each of twenty rocket projectors, thus a salvo blasted off 160 rockets at once. The object was not only to shoot down aircraft, but also to make a bomber change course when on a bombing run due to the box-barrage effect. In this way we could protect very important locations such as the War Office, the Admiralty, Lords Cricket Ground and the Windmill Theatre with its nude revues...

John Powell volunteers to man a rocket anti-aircraft battery.

To read earlier chapters of John's memorable life story please click on Shalom And Sheiks in the menu on this page.

Continue reading "16 - An Insane Idea" »

Posted by John Powell at 12:12 PM | Permalink

...They came out, standing on the path down to our front gate. Dad, hearing the commotion, came out too. The traffic was stopping. People came out of shops and houses to look, and there we all stood, our necks tilted back and everyone gazing upwards. For there, as far as we could see, from horizon to horizon, at different heights, all at the same speed, all droning steadily onwards towards Europe, were hundreds and hundreds of bombers. But this time they were OUR BOMBERS!..

John Powell tells of a sight which gladdened the hearts of Londoners who had survived repeated German bombing raids.

Continue reading "15 - Payback" »

Posted by John Powell at 11:22 AM | Permalink

...What a pleasing meeting. Two grins met; two pairs of eyes laughed at each other and two young, firm hands clasped in a steel-strong grip of friendship. He and my folks were delighted to meet at last, and I to welcome, Second Lieutenant Peter Mitchell of the Rifle Brigade to my home...

John Powell tells of a wartime encounter. To read more of John's sparkling autobiography please click on Shalom And Sheiks in the menu on this page.

Continue reading "14 - Two Grins Meet" »

Posted by John Powell at 09:12 AM | Permalink

...During the whole time, the only interesting happening was when some old fool of an officer told us that to do street fighting it was necessary to be able to jump from heights, such as a first floor window. Why, I could never understand. He then demonstrated in the Drill Hall, by climbing onto a balcony, then, explaining how to land without hurting oneself, hurled himself from the balcony with a great show of confidence and unparalleled bravery. We watched as they carried him away with a broken leg, his screams echoing and bouncing off the Drill Hall wails as he left...

While waiting to be called into the RAF to train as a pilot John Powell joined the Home Guard.

To read earlier chapters of John's autobiography please click on Shalom And Sheiks in the menu on this page.

Continue reading "13 - Gnawing The Nail Of Hurry" »

Posted by John Powell at 11:22 AM | Permalink

...As I climbed back into our attic window, I stood for a moment on the window ledge and, holding on to the edge of the flat attic roof, I gazed in awe at the view. Looking about me, the whole of our district seemed to be on fire; I was in the centre of a complete circle of flames, in all directions...

John Powell conveys the horrors of the London blitz, and the bravery of ordinary citizens amidst death and destruction.

To read earlier chapters of John's exhilaratingly well-told life story please click on Shalom And Sheiks in the menu on this page.

Continue reading "12 - Beastly Things" »

Posted by John Powell at 11:22 AM | Permalink

John Powell captures the drama, the humour, the bravery and good-neighbourliness which prevailed in London during World War Two bombing raids.

To read more of John's vividly-told life story please click on Shalom And Sheiks in the menu on this page.

Continue reading "11 - Our Turn Tonight" »

Posted by John Powell at 11:22 AM | Permalink

...Dad had finished his evening surgery and over supper he was telling us about the German airman who bailed out high above Victoria Station. He drifted across the Thames and landed in Harleyford Road, alongside the Oval Cricket Ground which was filled with coils of barbed wire.

The cockney women, some of them Dad's patients, rushed out of the shelters arming themselves with broomsticks, frying pans, rolling pins, dustbin lids, hat pins, and knitting needles and any other weapon they could lay their hands on, and went into battle against the German airman...

John Powell tells of bombing raids on London. To read earlier chapters of John's gripping life story please click on Shalom And Sheiks in the menu on this page.

Continue reading "10 - Teamwork In The Blitz" »

Posted by John Powell at 11:22 AM | Permalink

...But still people went out to enjoy life while it lasted, no matter how heavy the air raid. The Queens' Brasserie, (known to everyone in London as the 'Brass Arse'), was always filled with RAF boys on leave, who did not give a damn about the Luftwaffe up above. The Navy frequented The Captain's Cabin, where, especially on a cold winter's night, one could warm up with a hot rum punch...

John Powell vividly conveys the life-must-go-on spirit which prevailed in London during World War Two.

To read earlier chapters of John's highly-entertaining life story please lick on Shalom And Sheiks in the menu on this page.

Continue reading "9 - Enjoying Life While It Lasted" »

Posted by John Powell at 11:22 AM | Permalink

John Powell, in the latest chapter of his autobiography Shalom and Sheiks, tells of the bustle, public speaking and good humour which prevailed in London during the war years.

Continue reading "8 - Endless Comedy" »

Posted by John Powell at 12:50 AM | Permalink

...There had been some changes: Dad had used his World War I experience, and in our dining room basement had arranged for thick wooden planks to be placed under the ceiling, supported in position by strong wooden joists. It looked like a mineshaft and we nicknamed it the 'Dugout'.

They had moved a bed into the corner and there in the Dugout they ate, slept and lived during the Blitz. I slept between the Dugout and the kitchen, on a box ottoman underneath the stairs, often the only intact place in a bombed-out house...

John Powell, who studied at a school in rural England, returns to his London home while the aerial Battle of Britain is still being fought and German bombers are carrying out raids on the city.

To read earlier chapters of John's engrossing life story please click on Shalom And Sheiks in the menu on this page.

Continue reading "7 - London Belonged To Me" »

Posted by John Powell at 11:22 AM | Permalink

John Powell has haunting shcool-day memories of wartime dramas and unsung bravery.

Continue reading "6 - Tonbridge School At War" »

Posted by John Powell at 12:08 PM | Permalink

...Once Pan and I were arguing about the bombs being dropped on us, when he said, "I tell you what, old fruit, to prove my point I'll build you a bomb."

And he did, but I never thought he would do so in our study. Gradually, from old biscuit tins, the damned thing took shape...

John Powell tells of some gloriously memorable characters that he knew during his school days.

To read earlier chapters of John's autobiography please click on Shalom And Sheiks in the menu on this page.

Continue reading "5 - Some Wonderful Nut Cases" »

Posted by John Powell at 12:12 PM | Permalink

...As one progressed, certain privileges were bestowed upon the blessed; thus a second-term boy was allowed to have the bottom button of his jacket left undone; a third-term boy was in bliss, being allowed to have two buttons left undone, which was quickly pointed out to us Novi, with not a single button permitted to be undone at all, in keeping with our peasant status....

John Powell recalls his days at an English public school.

For earlier chapters of John's notable autobiography please click on Shalom And Sheiks in the menu on this page.

Continue reading "4 - A New Tonbridgian" »

Posted by John Powell at 11:22 AM | Permalink

...Stepping into the water I felt the cool, soft mud oozing between my toes. I paused a moment to admire the gracefulness of the emerald-green water reeds, plainly visible under the surface of the crystal-clear water as they bent over while moving gently to and fro with the current and softly brushed and tickled my legs...

John Powell, continuing his life story, vividly conveys the boyhood joy of swimming and playing in a rural brook.

To read earlier chapters of John's engaging story please click on Shalom And Sheiks in the menu on this page.

Continue reading "3 - Joy And Good Fellowship" »

Posted by John Powell at 11:20 AM | Permalink

...It was Troy who took me to see a bull mounting a cow, then gave me a learned explanation of the proceedings; it was Troy who taught me how to handle a ferret without being bitten, then showed me how to use it to catch rats in the barn and then how to use it for rabbiting...

John Powell recalls idyllic boyhood days when he and his brother roamed with other lads through the Oxfordshire countryside.

To read earlier chapters of John's engaging autobiography please click on Shalom And Sheiks in the menu on this page.

Continue reading "2 - The Brook's Still a-Flowin'" »

Posted by John Powell at 11:22 AM | Permalink

...Dad had an army of useful and interesting characters among his many patients in this working-class cockney area of South London. Once, when locked out by mislaid keys, Dad picked up old George, a burglar of unsurpassed reputation among his fellow professionals, and he had our top security front door opened in a blink. He refused payment, saying that it was nice to get a bit of free practice...

John Powell, continuing his exuberant life story Shalom And Sheiks, tells of growing up in a working-class cockney area in London.

Continue reading "1 - An Army Of Cockney Characters" »

Posted by John Powell at 12:02 PM | Permalink

Today we begin the serialisation of John Powell's book Shalom And Sheiks.

The story begins in a military hospital during World War I.

John's a fine writer and a splendid raconteur. His autobiographical words will be appearing on consecutive Tuesdays in Open Writing. Do watch out for them. They are a guarantee of reading pleasure.

Continue reading "Prologue" »

Posted by John Powell at 12:02 PM | Permalink