Simon McDermott - The Songaminute Man - How music brought my father home again

Looking back at this time, Iris recalls: ‘Ted was always open about his emotions and wasn’t shy about saying what he felt. But I was young and I used to get embarrassed when he’d tell me stuff. It’s like he wanted everyone to know how he felt. I’d sit there holding his hand on the bus and I’d be bright red. He was ever so gentle, honestly. He would always tell me, “Yam beautiful.” Looking back now, it was nice if you think about it …’

Iris was soon round at 18 Kent Road nearly every night of the week, waiting for Ted to finish work. According to his brother, John: ‘Everyone loved Iris and she quickly became part of our family. Mum loved her being around – she’d help out around the house whenever she could, even looking after us little ones. She was ace.’

Iris had a very different backstory to Ted’s – her parents had died when she was young (her father of a brain tumour when she was a toddler followed by her mother from tuberculosis when Iris was 11) and she had been adopted by her nan. Ted found this heartbreaking to imagine, given how close he was to his own parents and how much he enjoyed coming from a big and loving family. Meeting Iris opened up a deep sense of emotion in him, she says: ‘I think he used to feel so sorry for me because I hadn’t got a mum and dad and had to live with my nan.’

Despite a few emotional differences, the young couple found something in one another and quickly became inseparable. They both had a good set of friends, but Ted had never been one to go off drinking with the rest of his mates. ‘Honestly, he could sit with me all night, talking away about what he’d done that day and what we could do at the weekend, and that’s how he liked it,’ says Iris.

They slotted easily into each other’s worlds – her friends thought she had struck gold with an adoring, older boyfriend who showered her with attention, his friends thought she was a stunner. Iris even became the football girlfriend, going along every Saturday to cheer on Ted from the sidelines. She would arrive with a big bag of oranges bought from the local fruit and veg stall, ready to cut them up and hand them out to the whole team at half-time.

But National Service was just around the corner, and before any of them could really feel prepared, they were saying goodbye to Ted as he went off for sixteen weeks of training in Litchfield, leaving Hilda full of worry and Iris counting down the days until they were reunited. Not knowing what was ahead of him, Ted put on a brave face, shouted his goodbye to Maurice, kissed Hilda farewell and made his way down Kent Road to begin a new chapter. Living through a war had taught them all to expect the unexpected – you just didn’t know what was waiting round the corner.

Chapter 3

‘There’s some room for the case underneath your bed. Put it away and be ready for inspection in five minutes.’

Those were the orders barked at Ted as he walked through the Whittington Barracks gates – his new home rising to greet him as he tried to keep pace with everyone else. Although there were lots of rules and regulations, it soon became apparent this set-up made some of Hilda’s rules back home look relaxed. Ted kept silent, quietly surveying the situation as the sergeant major stood shouting orders around the yard.

Those first few days and nights were long and filled with thoughts of what would be going on at home as Hilda served dinner and Maurice whistled along and helped pass the plates before heading to The Cora for ‘just the one’. It was a huge adjustment for Ted. At home he was undoubtedly Hilda’s favourite, but now he was just one of many lads trying to stand out for all the right reasons, although that was hard as, by default, any attention given down the ranks was rarely a positive thing. However, slowly but surely, the McDermott charm began to work its magic, as Ted started to make a real name for himself when it came to giving everything his absolute best.

Physically he was also one of the fittest – the football training he’d done as a lad with his brothers stood him in good stead for the cross-country circuits, where he repeatedly found himself first back and barely out of breath. Gradually he built up a reputation at the barracks that was identical to the one he had at home – reliable, fun, kind and a great entertainer. The latter became obvious one Saturday night a few weeks after he had joined, when he was asked to sing in front of the officers and their wives at their Christmas party. As he got ready to face the crowd and pulled on his perfectly pressed suit, it was hard not to think back a few years to the night he proudly accompanied Maurice to The Cora. There, Ted had watched his dad closely as he sang away and had the whole audience on their feet.

Tonight it was his turn. As ever, the crowd seemed to love it.

Life soon took on a reassuring pattern – being away from his family and Iris was hard, but Ted, ever the one to roll up his sleeves, enjoyed the rigour that Army life brought. He was top of the athletics and cross-country teams and because of his knack of chatting to everyone whenever he could, he made a few good friends at the barracks. A particularly close pal was Freddy Hyde, one of the officers’ chauffeurs. Both men instantly got on. They shared the same sense of humour and enjoyed seeing how far they could push the status quo, a trait that was to reveal itself in more detail as time went on. Ted landed himself a job in the kitchen, quickly deciding that it was a smart place to be as it kept you at the heart of things, as well as giving you access to any leftovers.

He soon became a firm favourite with both the officers and their wives: whenever there was a do on in the mess, Ted was always invited to sing. But it was the weekends that he lived for – it was his chance to get back to Kent Road to see Iris and the family. The first visit was allowed after he’d been away for a month, as the officers felt it was important for all the lads to bond for a few weeks and get used to their new surroundings. As the day of his visit home approached, Ted felt nervous and excited all at the same time. It felt strange not to speak to his brothers and sisters every day or argue over who was next in line for the bathroom. He knew it wasn’t a very manly thing to admit, but he’d missed his family more than he’d thought possible.

Back at number 18, the feeling was definitely mutual. Initially it was strange for the younger children to be at home without Ted and they missed the fact he wasn’t there (though after a few nights, they were pleased to have the extra bed to sleep in!). Sleeping arrangements aside, the excitement was palpable the first weekend he came home. They sat by the window all morning waiting to hear the sound of his boots on the path. The minute he put his key in the lock, the younger children pounced on him for hugs.

Once all the hellos had been exchanged, Ted opened up his bag to reveal treats galore: fruit, butter, cheese and tins of meat. The family couldn’t believe their eyes. Hilda was horrified and shouted at Ted: ‘Get that stuff back in case they catch you!’ but he just laughed and said: ‘Ah Mum, they’ll just throw it out.’ Ever the canny opportunist, Ted could see first-hand how much waste there was in the kitchen. At the end of every shift perfectly good food was thrown out (seemingly for no apparent reason, as it all looked fine to him). As far as he was concerned it wasn’t technically stealing if it was just going in the bin; in fact he was doing a good thing applying the ‘waste not, want not’ principle when food was scarce. And so began the weekly ritual of Ted bringing home all he could to help the household eat, something that seemed to have stuck from childhood, though Hilda often joked that at least he was using a bag now and not his suit pockets.