Archibald William McClellan

A first draft of the early life of my father. I would be interested to read any comments. I cannot get the pictures to come up.  This piece may be modified and used as a flash back yet, but I wanted to get something about his youth down.  The original is on A5 so the pictures would reach across the page. Most of the information comes from family papers although some background is researched. i would pull works consulted together at the end of the chapter, if it gets to the point of publication.

ARCHIBALD WILLIAM McCLELLAN

Chapter One

“You are the man of the house now Archie,” his father had said, “Look after your mother and Stuart and little Jackie, work hard at school and be a good boy. Ask Grandpa Parsons or one of your uncles if you need any help. I’ll write whenever I can.”

            In the new year of 1917 my father was eight and a half years old. By the 10^th January his  paternal grandfather had died of a short illness, his father had resigned his job as a fitter and workshop foreman to join the war effort and his mother had given birth to his baby brother.

            “But, Daddy, do you have to go?” 

            “It’s my duty, son. You wouldn’t want your friends to call me a coward, would you?”

            “No Daddy,” said Archie reluctantly.

So it’s happened at last, he thought. He’d heard the arguments, especially after Uncle Sid had died in France. His dad had signed up at the last minute under something he called the Derby Scheme. He didn’t have much choice, he’d said. That was over a year ago, but now he’d given up his job and done his basic training.

            “Mummy is Daddy going to France where Uncle Sid was killed?” he asked later while his mother nursed the baby.

            “No, son, he’s off to the desert in Mesopotamia. He’s going to mend the army lorries so they can drive through the desert.”

            “Are there Germans there?”

            “No, it’s their friends the Turks.”

            “How long will he be away? Will he stay there till the war’s over?”

            “I expect so, now no more questions. Poor little Jackie needs to get some sleep.”

He wanted to ask about smallpox and stories about soldiers dying there. He’d heard them arguing about vaccinations and being sent to the desert as a death sentence, but he kept it to himself.

Meanwhile Archie continued to do his best at Parkhurst Road Boys School in Tottenham. Many of the other boys had fathers and brothers away at the war. Most were on the Western Front, so on the one hand Archie felt a bit special with a dad in Mesopotamia, on the other hand the other boys knew almost nothing of the Expeditionary Force there so he talked quite a lot about his Uncle Stanley who lived next door with Auntie Emmie and who was also on the Western Front.  

            Life in Tottenham continued difficult with food and fuel limited and expensive. Archie’s father had given up a good job as foreman of the machine shop at the Liquid Air and Rescue Syndicate Ltd in Willesden where he was valued for his competence and reliability.  Tottenham was growing rapidly before the First World War. People were moving from other parts of London, and increasingly, from further afield as factories were being built on the cheaper land by the marshes in the Lea Valley, and housing for the workers spread to match.

            A music hall was built in 1908 and a skating rink was added a year later. With railway yards and new civic buildings parts of the borough gave the feel of an urban centre. Yet as a series of paintings by John Bonny showed, there was much that remained rural.

Rectory Farm, White Hart Lane, Tottenham. c1910 from an oil painting, John Bonny.

            Archie’s father wrote regularly to his wife, the letters taking up to three months to arrive. It was clear that he missed the family, always asked after the boys and asked his wife, Nellie, to get Archie to write to him. His brother Stuart was nearly five when Archie first began to write to his father. Stuart was an irritating little boy at that age but Archie tried not to bully him. He had promised his father he would look after him so he tried his best. At first he didn’t realise how long his letters would take to reach his father, so when his first special page arrived from Mesopotamia with his mother’s regular letter he was delighted.

6/5/18   From Daddy

Dear Archie,

Just a few lines in answer to your welcome letters I am pleased you are all alright at home, and that you have been good boys and are getting on at school, now you must try and win that scholarship, ask mummy if you want to know anything, if she doesn’t know ask granddad he will tell you. You must also try and learn the piano, by the time I get home, and then I can hear you play, Well Sonny I am sending you a photo of some Arab children so you can see what they are like out here, also one for Stuart now don’t destroy them and I will try and get you some more. Well son I don’t know of anything to tell you only that I am very pleased to hear you and Stuart and dear little Jackie are alright and thanks for writing, so now close with love to you all from your loving Daddy

XXXXX             XXXXX             XXXXX

Archie               Stuart               Jackie

He was pleased his father wanted him to pass his scholarship and redoubled his efforts at school. His report in the summer of 1918 placed him 3^rd out of 51 pupils, commended him on his effort but added that he showed carelessness at times. If he was to get that scholarship he would have to take more care with his work.

            The war was over in the November of that year and the family waited anxiously for father’s return.  In his letters in August and October he anticipated coming home in the near future. The rumours of the desert as death sentence resurfaced in Archie’s mind, although Uncle Stan had also not yet returned from France.  They heard no more until a letter sent in March 1919 from Rawalpindi. Archie’s letter from the previous November had only just reached him as he had been transferred to the North West Frontier.

            His father does his best to reply to a long list of engineering questions Archie has posed him and in the following letter, sent a month later he wrote,

If you can only do what you say, that you can read a micrometer and Vernier thoroughly you ought to make a good engineer. Well sonny, you say you want me to teach you when I come home, well all I can say is if you keep on as you are going, you will be able to teach me something in figures at any rate.

Archie’s interest in science extended into chemistry. In the same letter his father wrote,

Well what about this bomb of yours, don’t get blowing the house up with it as I want somewhere to come home to.

Archie had mixed a heap of the constituents of gunpowder on his bedroom floor and put a match to it as an experiment. It was not compressed so it did not explode, but burnt a hole through the floor to the room below.  

            His father returned home and was demobilised at the beginning of 1920 in time to encourage Archie to win a scholarship to Risley Avenue Central School for Boys. His final report from Buckhurst Road congratulated him on his success. His class teacher described him as a hard working and earnest little lad whom it is a pleasure to teach.  He attended Risley Avenue for four years passing Cambridge Local Junior and Senior Examinations before he finished his schooling in July 1924.

Class 1A Risley Avenue Central School 1920. Archie is front row second from left.             

At his departure his headmaster, J.H.Williams, wrote

 I can speak most highly of him in every way. His conduct has been exemplary, he has made admirable use of the various opportunities the school provides and he has entered heartily into all the various activities of school life. I recommend him with great confidence as a trustworthy and persevering worker.

Such confidence was not misplaced as Archie continued to exhibit such qualities throughout his adult life.