Page 9 - The Spirit of Christmas 1940

The Spirit of Christmas 1940

the locomotives and passenger cars from every corner of Great
Britain. In addition to it’s main rail platforms, Church street was
also part of the underground tube network. Although during these
troubled times, the undergrounds main role was very quickly
turning into air raid shelters. Church Street was no different.

A suited man emerged from the station office, carrying a bag
stuffed full of crude Christmas decorations ready to adorn the tree
that sat beneath the station clock. Despite the constant air raid
warnings and piles of rubble lining the streets around the station,
Mr Crispin was determined to ensure that his patrons could, at
least, be reminded of the spirit of Christmas. James Crispin was
a clean cut, efficient man who ruled his station kingdom with
authority and precision. He was a proud man who, although
approaching his sixties, had the bearing of former military man.
In fact, he was a veteran of the trenches of the Great War. He
never spoke much about it, he didn’t want to have folks feel sorry
for him or tell him how much of a hero he was. That was not
Mr Crispin at all. But for now, he was the station Christmas tree
decorator. At least it would give him an hour or two not thinking
about the relentless bombing runs from those damn planes.

Apart from the Christmas tree, there were very few other
decorations reminding people of the forthcoming celebrations.
Maybe the only other reminders were the Holly wreaths on Rose’s
flower cart. Mr Crispin had a little soft spot for the young Rose.
She was always so cheerful and friendly. She always made him
feel that happiness could always be found at Church Street.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sharp whistling of the
arrival of the 5:30am postal train. Ah well, the decorations would
have to wait. He walked over to the platform to meet the guard as
he stepped off the train.

The quietness and peace of the station was disturbed not only
by the mail train but also the arrival of Jimmy Deacon, the station
newspaper vendor. A cheeky east-end lad cursed with an over
active sense of humour, and far too much confidence for his own

9