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In my Wainwrights Shoes
A Doctors, Lawyers & Family Scandal
By Chris Wainwright,
1. Introduction
More than a century ago my grandfather Albert Wainwright mortgaged everything to build his footwear repair business. People said he'd taken on too much when he acquired a large property near Princes Risborough railway station and added three mens ladies and childrens shoe shops. As a member of the family nothing went on my feet that wasn’t from Wainwrights. As I got older I worked on and off in the business for much of my life and as well as this one I have some interesting stories to relate
I enjoyed my time at Princes Risborough Primary School very much. At that age shortly after the war playtime often involved mock battles and fighting. We read all manner of books and comics about wartime not to mention cowboys and indians, the American civil war, the US prohibition gangsters. I read ‘All Quiet On the Western Front’ by Erich Remarque with fascination. I was amazed by the horrifying conditions the soldiers had to endure and fight in. By the final page I’d forgotten the characters weren’t English but noted they also had god on their side!
My cousin Paul and I lived close by. With our fair hair and similar features we were regularly mistaken for one another at school. My elder by two years we played rugby together for the AGS 1st XV and hung out a lot together. Up to my mid teens I spent most of my school holidays with him and our group of friends. As one of the youngest I learnt how to fit in using jokes and strong language. After much pestering I had my first air rifle at fourteen so we practiced in my garden smoking and drinking his dads’ homemade wine when our parents were out. We had a close shave one day at the Windsor Playing Fields, Horsenden. One of the gang turned up with a full-size fibreglass bow and aluminium arrows. As the strongest Paul fired one straight up in the air. After a long wait it landed right between our heads. We were lucky that day. I sometimes think of it when I have a kebab!
At Aylesbury Grammar School I was involved in most activities and was lucky enough to be made head of house and school. Confident, outgoing and a 'peoples' person I was mature for my years but wasn't popular with some of my old primary school pals who went to the local secondary. I met one while filling up at the garage. He looked at me and said, “Oh yeah you’re the kid who went to that posh school” and walked off. I was quite surprised but he can take it from me that education isn’t the whole story! We all need that bit of good luck! My grandfather was a big influence. He had some awful luck in 1942 and was held in Changi Jail by the Japanese. I was apparently the only one he confided in but I never learnt why he still had manacle marks impressed on both wrists. He quizzed me on the nine ways you could be given out at cricket and always reminded me that;- "When that one Great Umpire in the sky comes to mark against your name it's not what you won or lost but how you played the game". Grandad was a highly accomplished man and I'll write about him some more. One of his constant themes was mral rectitude. Following in dads footsteps my preferred career was going to involve selling not that it suited him! He finished school at 14 and missed his last day because Albert needed him in the repair shop. Like many of his contemporaries Dad reasoned that with a better education he’d have done much better. He didn’t want
the same thing happening to me and regularly told me, “do as I say boy and you won’t go far wrong”.
I'd developed a passion for speaking French thanks to our primary school teacher Mrs Smith who was French. She taught the language with enthusiasm which made a good start. From about 13 I began exchanging with the eldest son of a Normandy farming couple. I stayed many times with them at Placy. Although I say it myself I got to speak the language well. I began thinking about combining the language with a sales business of my own. From the start Pascal and I got on well and we often visited each other. Like most schoolboys we learnt all our respective swear words and corrected one anothers mistakes meticulously. By the time we reached 17 we were both reasonably fluent. If you really want to speak another language go and stay with a family. Pascal worked in the USA for a while and was pretty much bilingual.
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After leaving Aylesbury Grammar School I had a gap year in the Army as an Infantry Second Lieutenant on an undergraduates Short Service Limited Commission. The three day officer selection course at Westbury was followed by an unforgettable three week training course at Sandhurst. I loved it and would do it all again if I could.I believe it holds the record for the shortest officer training course ever and raised some eyebrows among the regulars! The commission was designed to attract young men like me who had a definite university place. The Army wanted more officers with degrees. If all went well you might be offered full Army pay during your degree course followed by a 5 year regular service commission. There’s a limit to what you can learn in a few weeks at RMAS but I enjoyed every moment of it. I was as fit as a fiddle - it was a fantastic experience! I’m forever indebted to headmaster K D Smith for suggesting I applied.
Dad wasn’t a fan of the Army. After the war he was conscripted into the RAOC but very rarely spoke of it. For one thing he liked to be in control and complained that everything was laid on a plate. He’d been brought up by his father to work. Along with my uncles they didn’t play sport believing it was something children did. The Royal Army Ordinance Corp were known affectionately as 'The Rag And Oil Company'. Grandad joked that dad might've been in charge of pencils. I was proud that they both attended my passing out dinner at RMAS. Grandad was on terrific form. He sat opposite a retired RA gunner officer. They’d both seen action and exchanged stories. I think in the end they called it a draw!
Unfortunately I had some bad luck just before leaving the Regiment. I snapped my anterior cruciate knee ligament in a game of football. The MO suggested I run it off round the barracks but I declined his offer and managed to carry out my duties as Duty Officer the next day. I filled in an accident report. Typically I blamed the accident on myself. Inoperable in those days the injury finished serious sport. Rugby was out, I couldn't bowl at cricket and with anything else the leg was only stable enough to use as a prop if I played off my good one. I didn’t let the injury get me down although it was a bitter blow. Dad asked what my plans were and I said I wanted to run my own company but would take the solicitors exams and have the law as a fall back. I was accepted to read law by Leicester university and went there full of confidence thinking I’d be able to carry on with my enjoyable life.
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