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Authors: John Pearson
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someone from another territory into the group of sharp-eyed youths around the bar carried inevitable overtones of challenge.
But the night the twins took Dickie there, none of the wild young men of Tottenham was in the mood to pick a fight.
Three brothers â all good amateur boxers â led the reigning local gang of Tottenham, and were in the bar. They knew the twins and understood that their appearance was a challenge â particularly when everybody knew they were absent from the army. There were a tense few minutes as the twins and the Tottenham gang sized each other up. Then the local gang quietly surrendered. One of the boxers offered the twins a drink, asked how they were doing, and offered to lend them a fiver â which Ronnie grudgingly accepted. Dickie was impressed. He and the twins remained for half an hour, drinking at the Tottenham gangâs expense, then caught a bus to Clinton Road, feeling they had won a useful victory â and that their great adventure was progressing.
It continued for the next fortnight. A fourth member joined their team of young escapers â a wild boy on the run from Rochester Borstal. The twins already had a knack of gathering people round them in the most unlikely situations, and at the boyâs suggestion they decided it was time for a little expedition. Unlike Dickie and the twins, the boycould drive, so they stole a car, and drove to Southend for a holiday. For a few hours they enjoyed themselves and took a lot of trouble choosing a rude postcard which they posted to their CO at the Tower, saying, âHaving a good time. Best of luck. Ron, Reg and Dick.â
The twins were always rather proud of this and Reggie insisted, âThe CO had a sense of humour and put the card on the board in the officersâ mess.â But once they had made their little gesture, what else was there to do in Southend? Drink. Visit the cinema. Walk along the pier. With Southend full of ordinary straight people having their boring summer holidays it was no place for the twins, so they slept the night in the car then drove back to the one place where they could be happy and where they were certain to be picked up in the end â Bethnal Green. They were getting bored â and for the twins, boredom was worse than the army or the Law or any rival gang.
A few more visits to the Royal, one of which ended with a brawl in which the twins gave Morgan an exhibition of bar-fighting he was never to forget. A couple of attempts, neither successful, to steal from lorries parked up for the night on the bomb-sites along the Commercial Road. But petty thieving wasnât the twinsâ style at all, and their hearts werenât in it. All that really mattered was the next round in their running battle with the Fusiliers. They were ready for the fray. So when a keen young constable called Fisher recognized them in a Mile End caff, they came along without a murmur. It was a relief to have something to fight against once more.
Back in the Tower the detention cells in the Waterloo Building almost seemed like home. The Commanding Officer gave them a stiffer sentence and a stronger warning. It was boring for him and boring for the twins, but until they decided to settle down and soldier, this absurd cat-and-mouse game would continue.
For the rest of early summer, the pattern of escape, recapture and imprisonment continued. And just occasionally it looked as if the twins would settle down and soldier. Once they got as far as the .303 range at Purfleet where both proved unusually bad shots. When they beat up a sergeant who had tried teaching them a lesson on his own account, the CO decided to separate the twins. Reggie was sent to the punishment cells at Purfleet and Ronnie to the tender mercies of Wellington Guards Barracks.
It did no good. They were worse parted than together. At Purfleet Reggie spent his time perfecting his left hook on a stream of obligingly aggressive NCOs until he
But the night the twins took Dickie there, none of the wild young men of Tottenham was in the mood to pick a fight.
Three brothers â all good amateur boxers â led the reigning local gang of Tottenham, and were in the bar. They knew the twins and understood that their appearance was a challenge â particularly when everybody knew they were absent from the army. There were a tense few minutes as the twins and the Tottenham gang sized each other up. Then the local gang quietly surrendered. One of the boxers offered the twins a drink, asked how they were doing, and offered to lend them a fiver â which Ronnie grudgingly accepted. Dickie was impressed. He and the twins remained for half an hour, drinking at the Tottenham gangâs expense, then caught a bus to Clinton Road, feeling they had won a useful victory â and that their great adventure was progressing.
It continued for the next fortnight. A fourth member joined their team of young escapers â a wild boy on the run from Rochester Borstal. The twins already had a knack of gathering people round them in the most unlikely situations, and at the boyâs suggestion they decided it was time for a little expedition. Unlike Dickie and the twins, the boycould drive, so they stole a car, and drove to Southend for a holiday. For a few hours they enjoyed themselves and took a lot of trouble choosing a rude postcard which they posted to their CO at the Tower, saying, âHaving a good time. Best of luck. Ron, Reg and Dick.â
The twins were always rather proud of this and Reggie insisted, âThe CO had a sense of humour and put the card on the board in the officersâ mess.â But once they had made their little gesture, what else was there to do in Southend? Drink. Visit the cinema. Walk along the pier. With Southend full of ordinary straight people having their boring summer holidays it was no place for the twins, so they slept the night in the car then drove back to the one place where they could be happy and where they were certain to be picked up in the end â Bethnal Green. They were getting bored â and for the twins, boredom was worse than the army or the Law or any rival gang.
A few more visits to the Royal, one of which ended with a brawl in which the twins gave Morgan an exhibition of bar-fighting he was never to forget. A couple of attempts, neither successful, to steal from lorries parked up for the night on the bomb-sites along the Commercial Road. But petty thieving wasnât the twinsâ style at all, and their hearts werenât in it. All that really mattered was the next round in their running battle with the Fusiliers. They were ready for the fray. So when a keen young constable called Fisher recognized them in a Mile End caff, they came along without a murmur. It was a relief to have something to fight against once more.
Back in the Tower the detention cells in the Waterloo Building almost seemed like home. The Commanding Officer gave them a stiffer sentence and a stronger warning. It was boring for him and boring for the twins, but until they decided to settle down and soldier, this absurd cat-and-mouse game would continue.
For the rest of early summer, the pattern of escape, recapture and imprisonment continued. And just occasionally it looked as if the twins would settle down and soldier. Once they got as far as the .303 range at Purfleet where both proved unusually bad shots. When they beat up a sergeant who had tried teaching them a lesson on his own account, the CO decided to separate the twins. Reggie was sent to the punishment cells at Purfleet and Ronnie to the tender mercies of Wellington Guards Barracks.
It did no good. They were worse parted than together. At Purfleet Reggie spent his time perfecting his left hook on a stream of obligingly aggressive NCOs until he
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