During school term, I lived in St Monance (now spelt St Monans) where all my Miller relations were. They, my uncles, and some of my older cousins, all worked in the boatyard (James N. Miller & Sons), which, alas now no longer exists. Uncle Tom was the boat builder, Uncle Willie the engineer, Uncle John was in charge of the office and administration, Uncle Mackie, I think, just worked there. My mother had only one sister, my Aunt Lizzie, whose husband, Bob Stevens, had been gasworks manager at Cove in Dunbartonshire eventually came to St Monans to work as a joiner with the firm. He was very good with his hands and made lots of beautiful inlaid furniture. There was another uncle whom I never knew, Andrew. He emigrated to New Zealand, started a boat building business in Port Chalmers, married and raised a family there, two girls, Audrey and Minnie, and, as far as I know, never came back home. Oddly enough, or perhaps not so oddly, my cousin Jenny married a New Zealander and, as I have remarked before, some of her family run a boat building business in Picton on the South Island.
During school term, I lived in St Monans where all my Miller relations were. They, my uncles, and some of my older cousins, all worked in the boatyard (James N. Miller & Sons), which, alas now no longer exists. Uncle Tom was the boat builder, Uncle Willie the engineer, Uncle John was in charge of the office and administration, Uncle Mackie, I think, just worked there. My mother had only one sister, my Aunt Lizzie, whose husband, Bob Stevens, had been gasworks manager at Cove in Dunbartonshire eventually came to St Monans to work as a joiner with the firm. He was very good with his hands and made lots of beautiful inlaid furniture. There was another uncle whom I never knew, Andrew. He emigrated to New Zealand, started a boat building business in Port Chalmers, married and raised a family there, two girls, Audrey and Minnie, and, as far as I know, never came back home. Oddly enough, or perhaps not so oddly, my cousin Jenny married a New Zealander and, as I have remarked before, some of her family run a boat building business in Picton on the South Island.
As well as being boat builders, the family firm were the local village joiners and undertakers, making the coffins themselves. During the summer holidays of my last two years at school I got a job in the boatyard, sometimes helping to make the aforesaid coffins, sometimes helping to build a dinghy. My main job as far as I can recollect was making dowels, which were little round plugs of wood used to fill up the holes made by the securing bolts, counter sunk, in the planks of the yachts. While I enjoyed my stint at the boatyard, and was paid for it, I missed my summer holidays at the farm. The firm of James N. Miller & Sons was established in 1747, and produced many fine yachts, fishing boats and launches of all sorts. The name of the firm was known worldwide. My grandfather, who managed the business from 1888 till 1934, also ran a ship chandlers business along with a grocery store, where my mother worked until she married again in 1931, but I remained with my grandparents. I suppose I knew when I was well off. With them, I had a good upbringing and never really knew what want was, unlike many of the children in the town, most of whom were fishermen's sons and daughters. In the late 20s and early 30s, during the depression, life was very hard for those whose livelihood depended on the produce of the sea, as it was for my other grandfather who depended on the produce of the land.
Although I lost my father at a very early age, I had a very happy childhood. I'm sure my grandmother and grandfather could have done fine without having me to bring up after rearing a large family of their own, however I was spoilt rotten and could twist my Granny round my little finger. It was the easiest thing in the world to wheedle a penny or even twopence from her. I suppose I had the best of both worlds. In St Monans, during school term, where I had the benefit of living in a small town by the seaside, with plenty of pals to play with, and, during all school holidays, on the farm, on my own, but never lonely, with the wide open spaces as my playground.
The Miller family were very close knit. During the winter months all my uncles, aunts and cousins used to foregather in our (my grandparents) house of a Sunday evening. We, my cousins and I, were consigned to the bedroom to play, while the adults discussed the affairs of state. During the evening my grandfather would produce Java oranges with the tops cut off and two or three sugar lumps pushed in, and, in season, chestnuts were roasted at the open fire and of course there were always sweets to go round.
I made many friends in those days, particularly Ian Morrison, Willie Fleming and James (he was always called James) Duncan, alas now all gone. We did everything together. There was no 'picture house' (cinema) in St Monance. The nearest proper one was in Anstruther, the Empire. I say proper, as films were shown in the Town Halls of Pittenweem and Earlsferry, Saturdays only.
There were lots of good places for playing, not the least of which was my grandfather's boatyard, as I 'had business' there! There were many nooks and crannies in the boatyard, joiner's 'shop' and engineer's 'shop'. We had many a picnic in amongst the wood store, with a bag of broken biscuits and a bottle of lemonade from my grandfather's grocery shop.
The Muir (or Mair, as it was pronounced) was a popular play area for football etc. It was large expanse of common grassland adjoining the school where the fishermen hung their nets to dry on poles, with crossbars, like very large goal posts, after they had been 'barked' or 'aumed'. (This was method of preserving the nets using Aum (Alum) for the white nets and I'm not quite sure what barking involved for the dark nets). There were also smaller posts for hanging out washings.
The east and west braes were also popular playgrounds and are stretches of grassland, which run towards Pittenweem to the East, approx. 2 miles away, and to Elie on the west. The East Braes start from the 'Toon End', at the end of Rose Street. There was a putting green complete with shelter and an ice-cream shop. On the shore just opposite the putting green a huge swimming pool was constructed, taking advantage of the natural layout of the rocks, complete with water chute and a high diving board. This picture is
from a postcard, probably in the early days of the pond, The East Braes can be seen, showing the rising ground (hence the name Braes) and Miller Terrace in the distance.
A bit further along are the saltpans, - large hollows where at one time seawater was evaporated, to obtain salt.
Above them on the high ground was a round stone erection, appropriately was called 'The Roondel' - I believe at one time it was a windmill which had something to do with the production of salt, probably to pump the sea water up to the pans. It was not quite a complete ruin and I'm pleased to say that it has now been restored to what it may have looked like when in use. There was also a small burn which must have had a peculiar source, for the water was a sort of reddish, rusty colour and all the stones on the beach were stained with this colour. We drank from it regularly, using our hands as scoops, and the water had a taste of, we thought, what iron would taste like. It was called, appropriately, 'The Mineral'. About half a mile inland from the saltpans is the Coal Farm and a street in St Monans was called the Coal Wynd (now Forth Street). Coal was produced locally at one time, and during the miner's strike in the 1920s, sea coal was gathered from the shore.
The braes to the West of the village took one to Elie about 3 miles away. The west braes started immediately beyond the Auld Kirk, built in the 14th century, which is perched on ground overlooking the sea, at the west extremity of the town and. It is separated from the town by the Inverie burn, over which is a stone footbridge, giving access to the Kirk. It has always been a matter of conjecture as to how many flat stones make up the bridge. A bit further along are the ruins of Newark Castle. Still further west, the ground levelled out, lots of ferns grew there and some of the small clearings were ideal places for picnicking. There are some lovely sandy stretches where in later years my family, along with my brother-in-law's families spent many happy, sunny Sunday afternoons, picnicking on the beach (the Sandy Beds), near Ardross farm, boiling 'wilks' (whelks) and roasting limpets on a tin-fire, fuelled by sticks from the beach and coal from the nearby railway line. Truly, St Monans was an ideal place in every respect to grow up in.
Before I leave my schooldays I must tell you of one very important thing, which was destined to influence my whole life from then on. It happened while I was attending Waid Academy at Anstruther approximately 3-4 miles from St Monans. We travelled every day by train and, of course, as is normal with children, and probably grownups as well, we had our own little cliques who travelled together in the same compartment. There were no open carriages on the trains in those days; a carriage was divided into compartments, with two bench type seats facing each other, with room for about 10 or 12 occupants. As an aside - it was while travelling by train that I first learned to smoke. At the station there was an automatic machine, which sold one Churchman cigarette for a penny -- the temptation was too great. A cigarette was bought, all nicely done up in silver paper and enclosed in a little cardboard carton; half was smoked going along to school and the other half on the return journey. But that is not the important thing that happened to me. I can't remember how old I was (probably 12 or 13), but it must have been at that age, one morning we (my pals and I) decided to go into the compartment which some of the girls used. By good luck or good guidance or maybe even intuition - who knows - I sat beside a girl called Elspeth Main, a girl I had no recollection of ever seeing before far less knowing her. That was the start of something. Every morning thereafter we travelled together. Yes ... you have guessed, Elspeth is now my wife of more than 60 years standing! There must have been some sort of chemistry between us, or maybe even that thing called love; anyway, it has stood the test of time. Of course, there were offs and ons in those early days, but we were very young then.
The In Between Years 1935 - 1940
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