Andrew Clennett, Clare 1971-74 (by email in February 2018)

I was involved in three CRI camps whilst at Clare College between 1971 and 1974. This was a transition period with some having been to Austria in previous years but nearly all were in the UK afterwards, more women at the University and social services becoming more involved.

The first was in North Yorkshire but I can’t remember where, other than we camped in an old school house. My lasting memory was of a trip to Robin Hood Bay, stopping off on the way back for some souvenirs. When the bus resembled a pirate ship it became obvious that most of them had been liberated by the kids, necessitating a return trip, literally. 

The following year we were at Low Mill, Threshfield in a camp led by Pam Sterling and Sue Gregg from Newnham. The spot was idyllic, on a farmer’s field who supplied fresh milk in a churn which made the most wonderful porridge. The winds of change were evident when the girls insisted on mixed sleeping in the student tents and taking on the most onerous task on camp, emptying the latrines in the pit which we dug. The camp was supplied by the army with a field tent and various tents for the kids and students. Transport was a problem and to help out a student lent us the use of a land rover which I picked up from Kent and drove to Yorkshire, finding the camp with difficulty. It turned out to be a dubious asset as it was very unreliable and had to be repaired at a local garage out of precious camp funds. Health and safety, or rather the lack of it, was an obvious feature with hindsight. Even at the time, driving the land rover into Leeds with kids in the back without proper brakes was an unnerving experience. It didn’t stop me from driving it over the moors to Malham Tarn at the end on my own but I wouldn’t recommend it.

Apart from Pam and Sue’s leadership (they were in charge of the food) we were helped by knowing most of the kids from the previous year. They were collected at various places in Leeds. The most memorable were the Mitchells with around seven siblings. We collected them from the redoubtable Mrs Mitchell who presided over a council house crouching under the looming shape of Armley prison. These were children who would not have a holiday but had little or no camping experience and not all took to it. However, most did and came every year if their age allowed it. One new departure was the presence of a schoolgirl from Leeds, I have no idea how she arrived. She seemed fine but towards the end simply did not wake up. A local doctor was called. I asked how he woke her up. He said he simply tickled her feet. She was simply exhausted and had to be taken home. One feature of the camps was how tiring they were but how worthwhile.

In my final year I was in charge by default as the original leader dropped out. The camp was to have its problems, starting with the fact that only myself and my younger brother and a mutual friend were on the team. At the time I was taking a special History paper under Professor Owen Chadwick. With papers for revision strewn all over the floor there was a knock on the door. A girl was enquiring about joining the team. Bearing in mind last year’s experience I was concerned. Fortunately, she was robust and had experience of charity work so I agreed. As she left I asked how I could contact her. She gave her name as Helen and her address as the Masters Lodge, Selwyn College. She brought a friend, Elizabeth McCrumb, who I presume but do not know, was the daughter of the Headmaster of Eton College. Mercifully, Pam and Sue agreed to join and they invited a friend, Helen and we had a team.

A new departure was that Leeds Social services would be running things from Leeds. The good news was they would be supplying two new mini buses, solving the transport problem. The bad news was they would be picking the children so no place for the regulars. The army, as efficient as ever, put up the camp after a trip to army HQ at Ripon. The only problem was ours; we ran out of toilet disinfectant and had to be re-supplied. We put vastly too much in. Anyone smoking and we could have had a problem of ‘Puckoon’ dimensions.

The next problem arrived as we picked up the children. Along with the Social Services selection, around a dozen of the regulars, including the Mitchells, were waiting at the pick- up points. How they knew I have no idea. We agreed to take them and I presume their parents were there and we did not simply kidnap them. The worry was that we were not budgeted for this number.

On arriving at the camp I decided to split the children into three groups with team leaders, drove them from the camp and told them to make their way back. This gave us a chance to sort the camp out. This went well until we noticed some of the Mitchells were missing. The prospect of a full scale police search was looming until one of them turned up grinning, saying he thought it was all part of the game!

After that the camp seemed to go well. In another sign of the times, I had foraged pram wheels to make karts and duly assembled the kids enjoyed free-wheeling down the steep hill by the camp. At small camp by the river at Kettlewell (a rotating camp for a quarter of the group) I also took barrels and planks to make rafts which were duly floated. One of the kids found a novel way to catch trout. None of your tickling, he drove a trout into some shallows and jumped on it with a blanket. It worked. Although most were enjoying it, some were not used to camping and not mixing. One girl in particular seemed unhappy and I asked Pam and Sue to have a word. Alas it was too late. The following day she went missing and in the evening the police arrived and told us she had hitched hiked home.

The real problems arose in the second part of the week. It rained. It rained incessantly. The camp site, which doubled as a football pitch, turned into a quagmire. Even so, we could not do without it and used the minibus headlights as our flood lights for something to do. Small camp had to be abandoned as the swollen waters carried bits of raft downstream. Activities had to be improvised. Going to the swimming baths was one so everyone had some chance to wash and dry. Grassington town hall had an old supply of roller skates and they allowed us to use them for free. With some respite from the rain one evening we got midges instead and simply abandoned the washing up. Getting up in the morning I trudged through the camp expecting to see a mound of dirty plates only to see Helen Chadwick washing them up. Whatever else it did, the camps certainly brought out the best in people and a team spirit.

It all took its toll though and the kids got up later and later and the blankets got wetter and wetter. With a camp following on immediately, the bedding was a problem. Over the back was Threshfield quarry and they kindly agreed to hang the blankets in their shed to dry out as well as possible. The next team arrived with FD and my last memory was of them sitting round a gloomy rainy camp with drinking chocolate and blankets. I only hope the weather got better.

The camp was gruelling but everyone survived and was certainly a lesson in overcoming adversity and having some fun on the way. I think the children, or most of them, enjoyed and I sometimes wonder if any of the Mitchells went again. After a career in teaching the health and safety issues make me shudder but if camps like this could not run now I think a lot of children will be the worse for it.