This is the life story of Frank Errett, 1899-1982,
as recorded by Ray Hamblett, son of Una Hamblett, nee Errett
Source of information: Thanks to the late Una, Monica and Olive, also a contribution from the late Barbara Abdo. Stockbridge School and West Sussex County Archives were consulted, but no reference to Errett appeared. I have also consulted census information from 1901, 1911, 1921 and the 1939 Register. I also have had help from AI ‘Gemini’ and ‘Copilot’
Frank Errett was born on 7th November 1899 at 33 Lavender Hill, Rusthall, Tonbridge, Kent. His parents were Sarah Jane and Walter Edwin Errett. Frank's father, Walter, died in December 1901; he was 36 years old.
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| 33 Lavender Hill, Rusthall, Tonbridge |
In the 1901 census, Frank is one year old, and he is a ‘boarder’ at 80, Edward Street, Southborough, with the Startup family. Southborough is a ten-minute car journey from Lavender Hill
Because the Startup family weren’t just random strangers. In Kent — especially around Rusthall, Tunbridge Wells, Tonbridge, Southborough — the Startups were one of those big, sprawling, working‑class families who often:
took in boarders
fostered children informally
helped out neighbours in trouble
lived in large, busy households
had women who did washing, nursing, or child‑minding
had men in labouring, gardening, or railway jobs
They were exactly the sort of family who would take in a one‑year‑old boy when his own household was in crisis.
The house where Frank was temporarily fostered, 80 Edward Street, Southborough
Then it would have been a single dwelling housing the large family
One can see that it'sits now been divided into three properties.
This chart below is from the 1901 Census.
As you see down below, the Startup family was large, and the adults were all at home, at least for the census.
A family anecdote tells of when In about 1913, at the age of 14, Frank Errett got into trouble with the authorities after being caught stealing a Kipper. Fortunately for him, he had been a golf caddy for a gentleman who vouched for his character, and thus he did not receive the full punishment befitting his crime.
I think it was actually about having stolen money, but the story has been elaborated over the years.
He was consequently sent to a remand home. With help from the Salvation Army, he joined the Regular Army.
Here is another example of his exploits as a teenager, which got reported in a local newspaper.
Kent Sussex Courier 03 January 1913
CHARGE AGAINST RUSTHALL BOYS
Albert Finch (15), John Burren (14), Frank Errett (13), and James Damper (13) were charged on bail with stealing between 16th and 23rd December, from 2, Rustwick, Rusthall Park, five golf clubs and six golf balls, together valued at 31s. 6d., the property of J. Seagram Ricards.
P.C. Grinter stated that on 24th December, he spoke about the matter to Finch, who stated that he went carol singing with the three other boys, and while out, they went to the back of 2, Ruswick, and took the golf clubs. Witness asked him where the clubs were, and the boy replied that his father had it and had got into a temper and destroyed it. The iron part of the club was afterwards produced to him. Witness subsequently recovered other clubs and four balls.
Mr Richardson said he did not wish to press the charge. He thought the boys had acted thoughtlessly, without realising the seriousness of what they were doing, and that the present case would be a warning to them.
Mr Toogood Parsons gave Burren and Errett good characters.
The four lads were discharged, and Finch expressed his willingness to enter the Navy.
On another occasion, he was caught causing an accident while riding his bike.
Frank Errett Kent Sussex Courier 29 May 1914 0007 Clip
ACCIDENT.
On Wednesday, Frank Errett, of Apsley Street, was riding a bicycle down Bishop’s Down‑road, with another boy on the step behind, when he collided with a Mr Wise, a workman of Goods Station‑road. The latter was knocked down, and his arm and leg badly injured. He was conveyed to the General Hospital.
By this time, Sarah had remarried to Henry John Field, and Frank had returned to live with his mother at 3 Apsley Street after the temporary fostering of his first year or so. The cream-painted house seen below
Those small scrapes in Rusthall — the stolen kipper, the golf clubs, the bicycle accident — were the last flickers of boyhood before the world stepped in. By the time Frank reached his late teens, the mischief had run its course. What he needed was direction, and the Army offered exactly that. With the help of the Salvation Army and a few adults who still believed in him, he left Kent behind and reported for training at Larkhill Camp on Salisbury Plain.
Once his training was complete, Frank was posted to Ireland, part of the British Army’s internal security presence during the turbulent years that followed the First World War. Young gunners were often sent not to fight as artillerymen, but to support the Royal Irish Constabulary, guard key sites, escort convoys, and maintain order in a country moving towards independence. For Frank, it was a stark shift from the chalk downs of Hampshire to a landscape marked by tension and uncertainty. Yet it was also a formative period: the discipline of Larkhill, followed by the responsibility of service in Ireland, marked the turning point between the mischievous Rusthall boy and the steadier man he would later become.
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L to R Harry Bragg, Charles Loveless, Mr Kimber, Mr Loveless (station master) and Harry Marsh
Frank married Edith May Tarrant on 9th February 1922. Before she married, Edith May Tarrant may have worked as an assistant at the Stockbridge Railway Station; no record has been found to substantiate this, but this photograph shows Edith at the railway station with other members of the station staff. The soldier Charles Loveless was allegedly an admirer.
Frank Errett married Edith May Tarrant, daughter of Frederick and Druscilla Tarrant from Stockbridge, Hampshire. Initially, the couple lived at New Street, Stockbridge, above a shop owned by the Tabor family. The building, according to Barbara Abdo (daughter of Edith’s sister Ethel), was rat-infested and had been Edith's family home until repossession due to unpaid rent.
In 1922, on the 16th of June, their first child, Monica Muriel, was born. Edith may have worked as an assistant at Stockbridge Railway Station before marriage, though this is unconfirmed. A photograph shows Edith among station staff; the soldier beside her was Charles Loveless, allegedly an admirer.
Frank operated a small Fish and Chip Shop in Stockbridge, possibly from an outbuilding behind the corner shop in New/High Street—again under Tabor ownership. His mode of transport was a motorbike with a coffin-shaped sidecar, perhaps fashioned from an unused coffin. Daughter Una fondly recalls sitting in it.
“The sidecar—a homemade contraption perhaps born of wartime thrift or dark humour—drew stares as it chugged through Stockbridge.”
They had two more daughters: Olive on 25 June 1924, and Una on 13 January 1926, both born in Stockbridge. School records show Monica started school in 1927, followed by Olive in 1929 and Una in 1931, aged five.
In 1929, Frank joined Lulworth Army Camp in Dorset as a civilian chef, preparing meals in the Officers’ Mess at the Gunnery School of the Royal Tank Corps, where he originally trained as a gunner. The camp—already well-established by then—was a centre for armoured warfare, drawing personnel from across the armed forces. While stationed there, Frank may have served the Duke of Gloucester, who trained locally with the Corps around that time. More intriguingly still, he might have crossed paths with T.E. Lawrence ("of Arabia"), who was living just up the lane at Clouds Hill, a bare-bones cottage he was quietly restoring while serving at nearby Bovington. Lawrence had a habit of blending in, often stopping by the mess and mingling with staff and officers alike.
During those years, the Gunnery School at Lulworth occasionally saw a quiet, unassuming visitor from up the road at Bovington. T. E. Lawrence—serving under the name T. E. Shaw—was stationed with the Tank Corps and regularly travelled to Lulworth for gunnery training. Clouds Hill, his Spartan retreat, lay just a short ride away. Lawrence had a habit of slipping into messes without ceremony, blending in among officers and staff. It’s entirely possible that Frank, working in the Officers’ Mess between 1929 and 1931, crossed paths with him—perhaps without either man realising the significance of the moment.
Clouds Hill stood like a time capsule, its spartan interior deliberately kept free of comfort. Lawrence would retreat there to escape the machinery of fame, scribbling his thoughts and slipping back into anonymity
Frank left the camp with a glowing reference from his group captain (see Reference 2), which evidently impressed future employers. Whatever came of those chance encounters, he had clearly made his mark.
The family moved in 1932 to West Whiteway Farmhouse in the parish of Tyneham, Dorset. The children attended the village school in nearby Wool, a picturesque community not far from the army camp. At the time, it’s believed the Erretts rented the farmhouse, possibly under an arrangement with the Ministry of Defence, as Frank was employed at Lulworth Camp—a key site for tank corps training located on the Purbeck Ridge, near East Lulworth.
Their son Frank Maurice Errett was born in 1933 at East Lulworth. To avoid confusion, he was always known as Maurice.
Eventually, Whiteway Farm was acquired by the military and later destroyed, marking the end of the family's chapter in Dorset.
Though their time at Whiteway Farmhouse was short, its presence lingered in family memory like a photograph slightly faded at the edges. Nestled in the secluded parish of Tyneham, surrounded by rolling hills and echoing quiet, the farmhouse offered a stark contrast to the bustle of Stockbridge and the military order of Lulworth Camp nearby. The children walked the winding lanes to school in Wool, a village that seemed to float untouched by time. For young Monica, Olive, Una, and baby Maurice—born at East Lulworth in 1933—those Dorset days may have felt dreamlike, caught between the formality of military life and the simple magic of rural freedom. Eventually, Whiteway was claimed by the army and lost to history, yet the impression it left on the Errett family was quietly enduring.
“That chapter closed quietly, long before the village itself would be claimed and silenced by wartime necessity.”
In 1934, Frank accepted a position at the Brighton New Club Ltd, where he was well received (see Reference 1). The family then moved to 9 Cross Road, Southwick, in 1935. Their youngest daughter, Una, attended the girls' school at Southwick Green and the Sunday school at Watling Road. The other children would have done the same.
The Brighton New Club – Then and Now
Just beyond the pebbles and promenade once stood the Brighton New Club, founded in 1876 at the corner of Preston Street and King’s Road. With its morning room, card tables, and strict code of conduct, it catered to Brighton's respectable elite—including figures like Sir John Cordy Burrows and Dr William Kebbell.
⭐ The New Club: a very different world from the barracks
Working in an officers’ mess is one thing — it’s structured, hierarchical, military.
But the New Club in Brighton was a private members’ club, a place of:
formality
high standards
wealthy clientele
refined dining
social prestige
For a man with a glowing reference from the army, that was a perfect next step. It meant:
He was trusted
He was skilled
He could handle pressure
He could cook to a standard that impressed officers
He had the discipline and reliability that civilian employers loved
Demolished in 1937 to make way for the Art Deco Astra House, its memory might have faded entirely… had it not reemerged in the 2010s. On the very same spot, a new café-bar revived the name The New Club, blending New York-style design with archival nods to its predecessor. It’s more avocado brunch than billiards, but the spirit of Brighton’s layered social past remains—quietly stitched into its walls.
Una goes to work
After leaving school, his daughter Una worked for a short time at the Metal Box Factory making door handles for ovens. An accident on drilling equipment resulted in damage to her hand. She believes it was her father who advised her to leave and probably helped to get her a milk round with the Southdown Dairy, Southwick.
During the years in Southwick, 1936 to about 1940, Frank & Edith lived in a rented house at 154, Old Shoreham Road, Southwick.
With a loan of five pounds, he started to build a business making meat pies on the premises.
When the war came, due to his profession, he was exempted from war duties. Before the advent of the war, he had planned to open his own pie shop, which was due to be built on the main road close by. The war came along, and the building work was stopped.
Despite this setback, he built up a reputable pie manufacturing business from his home. An extension was built to the house to accommodate a larger kitchen, which had a gas oven, and the meats were kept in a deep freeze. It was here that the meats were boiled in a large copper pot and the pies were prepared and cooked. The pastry making was done by all the family on a rota, with a large marble slab where the pastry was rolled, ready for the baking tins.
The table had another purpose, Monica recalls the family sleeping beneath it during air raids.
The pies contained a variety of fillings, including Steak & Kidney, Veal & Ham, and Pork pies with gelatin and Cornish Pasties with meat and potatoes.
Olive had the responsibility of loading the oven with the uncooked pies and removing them when cooked. Although the pies were prepared to the highest possible standard, due to rationing, ingredients were sometimes in short supply, and the filling would have to be bulked up with rusk. Soya flour was used when wheat flour was hard to obtain.
Various cakes were also made and sold.
The family continued the business while Frank went to British Home Stores Restaurant as Head Chef in 1942. He is depicted in this black & white photo where he is shown behind the counter, surveying the restaurant area and overseeing staff.
Among the archival fragments, one photo quietly stood apart. Captured inside the British Home Stores restaurant, it places Frank Errett not at the centre, but just off to one side—watchful, composed, and entirely at home in his kitchen whites.
In the heart of British Home Stores, Frank Errett watched the lunchtime tide roll in. To the left, the buzz of service; to the right, the man in a white coat ensuring the rhythm never faltered.
The image is fleeting, but its atmosphere lingers. Within the frame, we glimpse more than routine service—we witness a moment of wartime resilience dressed in aprons and chef’s whites. Frank’s presence, modest and assured, speaks to the steadiness behind the scenes: the kind rarely celebrated, yet utterly essential.
It appears to me that the type of service that the British Home Stores offered was in the style of a classy high end cafeteria, see the supplement at the foot of this article.
Back at 154 Old Shoreham Road
Frank's family were all enrolled to help in the shop. The house was never converted to have a shop window, but produce was displayed in the front room windows. Customers, including trade buyers who would come from larger stores such as Marks & Spencer & British Home Stores, came into the passage to collect goods from the front room 'shop'. Buyers also included Brighton Power Station canteen, local shops and a 'tin shed' hot and food cart tea outlet at Portslade West Hove Station, where the south side car park now is. This is fondly remembered by a number of local people; one person, when asked, recalled that the Steak and Kidney was "delicious".
Radio Remembered: A Taste of Frank’s Pies
In a 2000 broadcast of the Joanne Good Program, listeners phoned in to reminisce about Frank Errett’s legendary pies and cakes. Val from Portslade admitted to spending her bus fare on finger buns in the 1950s, while Peggy recalled steak pies sold from the family’s fish and chip shop in the late '40s. Irene from Worthing remembered the rich meat filling and the care taken in the baking, noting: “They were cooked at home. You walked into the hallway and the smell was wonderful.”
Those pies weren’t just food—they were community currency, stitched into memories and flavours that lingered decades later.
In the autumn of 1939, as the country braced itself for the long war ahead, the government carried out what became known as the 1939 Register. It wasn’t a census in the usual sense, but it served much the same purpose. Every household was required to give the names, dates of birth and occupations of the people living there, creating an immediate and accurate record of the civilian population. The information was used to issue identity cards and ration books, and later formed the basis of the NHS Central Register.
Because the wartime census planned for 1941 was cancelled, the 1939 Register now stands as the only complete snapshot of Britain at the outbreak of the Second World War. For families like Frank’s, it captures a moment of stillness just before the upheaval — a record of where they were living, what work they were doing, and how they were preparing, quietly and without fuss, for the uncertain years ahead.
See the supplement below this article
Research has revealed that the "tin shed" was in fact the body of an old 'Guy Runabout' bus which used to run from Black Rock to the top of Wilson Avenue.
Frank's half-brother Maurice Field was a deliveryman until "called up"; then the job was taken over by a man named Charlie Dennis. His daughter Olive, used to load pies in an old pram and sell them to the public.
The site at Portslade/West Hove station is a point of local debate. While many remember it simply as the 'tin shed' or a 'caravan' selling Frank’s legendary pies, evidence suggests a more specialised origin. At one point, the outlet was likely the repurposed body of an old Guy Runabout bus. Over the decades, as the site evolved from a mobile stall to a fixed landmark, the bus body may have been clad or replaced, leading to the various 'pre-fab' and 'tin shed' descriptions we hear today.
A new housing estate is built on market garden land north of the main road, including Overhill. Frank and family move into a new bungalow, 65 Overhill, Southwick and live there during 1941. He continues to run his pie-making business from 154 Old Shoreham Road.
In 1948, Frank Errett and Son held a licence from the Ministry of Food for a Pie Manufacturer at 154, Old Shoreham Road, Southwick, as indicated by the document. I think this must have been a renewal of his licence.
In 1952, son Maurice is running the business.
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| Not everything went smoothly; this item was posted on 4th October 1957 |
Frank purchased some land and had a bungalow built at Partridge Green
Here, he chose to raise poultry and later a few pigs. Having no previous knowledge of poultry keeping, he read from books as much as he could about the subject.
I found this article about the sale of the farm at Partridge Green:
H. J. Burt & Son
SUSSEX POULTRY FARM, PARTRIDGE GREEN, SUSSEX
Situated on the Steyning–Horsham road, on the west side of the railway line, approached via the level‑crossing, just north of the Station Hotel.
SALE OF POULTRY AND APPLIANCES, TIMBER AND BUILDING MATERIALS
H. J. BURT AND SON
Are instructed by Mr. Frank Errett (who has sold the property) to sell by auction, upon the premises, on
FRIDAY, APRIL 3, 1959
At 11.30 a.m.
700 HEAD OF POULTRY
Chick brooders, night arks and poultry houses and equipment.
MONROTILLER ROTARY HOE.
ALLEN AUTOSCYTHE,
Electric saw by Tyzak.
FRIGIDAIRE COLD ROOM,
150 cu. ft. capacity.
1951 AUSTIN A70 SHOOTING BRAKE,
and a great variety of miscellaneous timber, paints, tools and appliances.
Catalogues may be obtained from H. J. Burt and Son, Chartered Auctioneers and Estate Agents, Steyning, Sussex. (Tel. 2224).
For the company, Frank and Edith had a pet Boxer dog. Her name was Nellie, and she had about twelve litters of pups. [seems a little exaggerated]
In about 1960, Frank and Edith moved to a bungalow with a larger plot of land at Four Marks, Near Alton, Hampshire. Here, they built sheds and raised chickens and turkeys
Both farms were popular with Frank and Edith's family and their children, who spent time there during the school holidays.
This is probably the Four Marks bungalow.
Edith can be seen behind the window of the conservatory, Una with children Michael, June and young Raymond with Nellie the dog.
Meanwhile, Maurice had moved into a wooden-built house in Partridge Green, which was called Dalkeith. Frank had helped to build it.
Around 1964, due to ill health, Hodgkin's disease, they sold up and returned to 154 Old Shoreham Road, Southwick, where Una and Monica had lived during the early years of their marriages.
It was between these times, 1954-1964, that the property had been Let to a family who had apparently illegally cleared the property of the Pie making equipment
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Echoes of Habit
“They didn’t need a reason to pause—no milestone, no ceremony. Just an afternoon gently claimed. The car door swung open to the hush of a quiet lane, a blanket unfurled with practiced ease. Frank poured the tea with hands shaped by years of work, while Edith adjusted the cups, her laugh barelypractised louder than the breeze. The kettle cooled slowly beside a tin of sandwiches. Nothing elaborate, just familiar comforts laid with care. It wasn’t retirement, perhaps—not yet. But something softened in that moment—a ripple in the rhythm. The hum of labour quieted, and time bent around them like shade.”
“That afternoon picnic became its own kind of punctuation—a small pause before the move to Locks Court, where quiet routines found their rhythm.”
In 1972, Frank and Edith moved into a ground-floor council flat at 14 Locks Court, Butts Road, Southwick. Close to Shoreham Harbour Locks, where they enjoyed frequent walks to the beach.
Frank took up oil painting in later years and liked to paint natural scenes. Such as his favourite river fishing sites.
Frank died on April 13 1982, at St Barnabas Hospice, Worthing. His ashes were scattered at the Dover pond, Near Arundel. It was a favourite spot where he liked to fish and enjoy the scenery. Edith died five years later; her ashes were also scattered at the Dover pond.
There’s a story that Frank planted the first water lily at the pond near Dover Lane—a quiet act that may have shaped the landscape as deeply as the memories it now holds.
Years later, I was taken to the pond myself. I remember standing at the water’s edge and seeing the surface completely covered with water lilies. Whether or not Frank planted the first one, as the family story goes, the sight of that pond in full bloom felt like a fitting echo of the man who had loved the place so much.
Notes: Records of transactions held by Bunkers Solicitors have been destroyed, a letter from them received 4/3/95 an Index card relating to property held by F.M. Errett probably refers to Maurice’s Fish and Chip shops.
N.B. I have tried to get as much detail as possible, but some of the details above may be incomplete and may contain some inaccuracies. I will strive to put the details right with further help of the family.
According to daughter Una, Frank was a dominant Husband and a strict Father. Itfrom appears from the information that has emerged that Frank was a strongly self-disciplined man who worked hard to build a business to sustain his family.
Reference 1. 13 Sep 1934
Brighton New Club Ltd
Mr F Errett has been employed in this club as chef since the middle of last March and has given complete satisfaction. He is a painstaking and [illegible]? Chef. He is punctual in attendance and can maintain discipline in his kitchen, and has an aptitude for turning out a good dinner at short notice, which is most valued in such an establishment as this. I have no hesitation in recommending Mr Errett as a competent chef.
signed by the Secretary.
Reference 2.
Gunnery School, Royal Tank Corps
Mr Errett has been employed as a chef in the officers' mess, Gunnery School, Royal Tank Corps, since September 1929, and he is free to be employed.
During my 2 years as President of the mess Committee, he gave me complete [?--] satisfaction; in fact, I never had cause for any slight complaint about his work; on the contrary, I was always full of praise for his excellent cooking.
He has a wonderful imagination and his organising abilities are of the highest order. He will cook just as well for a hundred as he does for two. He has plenty of tact, and he is fitted by all those who work under him; he is spotlessly clean and his kitchen and utensils are always kept in a like manner. I would not hesitate in recommending Mr Errett for the post of chef in any first class London ---- (house?) or establishment.
signed by group captain, Royal Tank Corps
26/5/1931
I agree with the remarks made by Capt ----? I have always found him very willing to turn out a good dinner under trying circumstances and conditions that are far from ideal
30 June 1533 signed ----? Chaplin PMO Officers Mess
https://tankmuseum.org/article/the-gunnery-school
This link takes you to an article about Gunnery School in WW1, but it evokes a sense of the time before Frank took on the position of chef
The header image, drawn from the Tank Museum’s archives, captures the early spirit of the Gunnery School where Frank Errett would later serve as chef. Though the photo predates his 1929 arrival—and shows the school in its World War I tented phase—it reflects the disciplined, rugged setting that shaped the backdrop to his culinary contribution. By Frank’s time, tents had likely given way to permanent mess halls, yet the enduring atmosphere of steel, silence, and service remains palpable.
Supplement: Voices from the Airwaves
The full transcript of the Joanne Good Program (2000), featuring listener memories of Frank Errett's pies and cakes, has been preserved as part of the Errett family archive. From finger buns to steak pies, these audio recollections serve as rich testimony to a beloved Shoreham tradition.
📻 Echoes from the Airwaves: The Legend of Errett’s Pies
In October 2000, listeners of the Joanne Good Program on BBC Radio Sussex called in to share their memories of 154 Old Shoreham Road. The smell of baking pastry, it seems, had lingered in the town's collective memory for fifty years.
Note: Irene also confirmed the family's "secret" to success—the damp room built at the back of the house to satisfy the "environmental people" so Frank could sell his pies legally.
Peggy in Portslade
Hello Jo, in about 1946-47 my husband and I were courting and we used to go into brighton every Saturday night and watch a film, and we used to walk home via Western Road-Portland Road and there was a fish a chip shop just by Westbourne gardens and we used to go in there and buy a bag of cracklin' we used to eat those going along Portland road, and the best part of that Saturday evening was going into the 'tin hut' and the Steak Pies and they were absolutely delicious.
Irene from Worthing, I remember very well the pies that one bought from Mr Errett, i lived in that area in the early 1950's, and it was at least once a week that we would go along to the house and we would buy the pies from there, and they were absolutely marvellous, and the smell as you opened the door was wonderful
Jo: Did you go into his front room?
Irene: Yes and he'd got all these trays of pies there, and I believe his wife used to help him with the actual cooking of them, and they were full of meat and it was really something during the early 1950's because when I first went there, there was still rationing on when we used to get a very small quantity of meat on coupons and of course being able to go along to the pie shop and get these wonderful pies which were really marvellous and the pastry was beautiful was really absolutely marvellous for us.
I used to buy pies there, and my mother and father bought that house.
Jo: was there anything special about the house for cooking?
Irene : Yes, at the back they built an extra room, and it was very damp! and the reason being as far as I know the environmental people said you weren't allowed to cook pies and sell them in your house. So they had to build this room at the back to do all the cooking in.
Feeding a Nation, One Pie at a Time
In wartime Britain, with ration books in hand and ingredients strictly measured, the Ministry of Food became a lifeline for families across the country. Established in 1939 to oversee equitable distribution and public nutrition, it urged citizens to make do and mend, often promoting austere recipes to stretch supplies. Yet, amid those constraints, bakers like Frank Errett carved out a space for warmth and flavour. His meat pies, remembered decades later by locals on the Joanne Good Program, offered not just sustenance but comfort—proof that ingenuity could thrive, even under rationing.
Footnote:
While “Dover Pond” doesn’t appear in official records, the name carries a personal significance within the family. Thought to be near Dover Lane in West Sussex, close to the hamlet of Hammerpot, the secluded fishing spot is remembered not only for its quiet charm but also for the story that Frank himself planted its first water lily. Since then, the pond has been blanketed in blooms—a living memory rooted in family lore and local tradition.
] Olive Una and Maurice at Southwick Green on Coronation Day 1937
Frank & Edith
Frank with staff from British Home Stores on day out at the Anchor Inn at Barcombe Mills
Gemini said
Here is an idea for a "Redemption" bridge. This section is designed to sit right between his teenage years (the newspaper reports of accidents and golf clubs) and his success at the Brighton New Club.
It highlights how the structure of the Army didn't just change his job—it changed his character.
From Mischief to Mastery: The Turning Point
The transition from the "mischievous Rusthall boy" to the "competent chef" was forged in the discipline of the Royal Artillery. While the 1916 Poor Law records captured a young man at his lowest ebb—restless and "unsettled"—the Army provided the boundary lines he had lacked.
The shift was remarkable. By the time Frank was serving in the Officers' Mess at Larkhill and later Lulworth, the boy who had once "acted thoughtlessly" with a set of golf clubs was now being praised by a Group Captain for his "wonderful imagination" and "organising abilities."
It wasn't just a change in profession; it was a total transformation. The same hands that had been reported in the Kent Sussex Courier for a bicycle collision were now "spotlessly clean," preparing refined dinners for the likes of the Duke of Gloucester and the military elite. When he eventually stepped into the Brighton New Club in 1934, he wasn't just a chef—he was a man who had completely outrun his early reputation.
Supplemental
🏬 Behind the Counter: The Cafeteria Style of BHS
In the heart of many British high streets, British Home Stores (BHS) wasn't just a retail staple—it was a place to pause, sip a cup of tea, and grab a bite between errands. Yet few remember the quiet charm and practical warmth of its in-store cafés, where Frank Errett once served as Head Chef.
☕ From Coffee Bar to Community Corner
The typical BHS café offered a self-service layout: simple counters lined with sweet and savory options, soft lighting, and the gentle hum of conversation. It may have looked like a modest coffee bar, but its role was far more significant—it was a community hub.
🍽️ A Menu Made for the Masses
Though not a full-fledged restaurant, the cafeteria-style service presented a surprisingly robust offering:
Savouries: Hot jacket potatoes, paninis, sausage baps, and quiches reheated to order
Sweets: Victoria sponge, apple pie, lemon drizzle cake—often homemade or locally sourced
Drinks: Traditional teas, frothy cappuccinos, and fizzy soft drinks
Anecdotes from past patrons recall hearty breakfasts and even celebratory lunches. In some branches, themes and décor turned these spaces into cozy alcoves, bridging retail with relaxation.
👨🍳 Frank’s Quiet Contribution
Though we lack firm records, Frank's legacy as a skilled pie-maker suggests his touch may have shaped more than just the menu. Whether training staff, overseeing kitchen logistics, or contributing to behind-the-scenes prep work, his presence likely added finesse to a humble cafeteria setting.
📸 Echoes Worth Preserving
Menus remain elusive, scattered across nostalgia blogs and restaurant review archives. But the essence of BHS cafés lives on through memories: ten-item breakfasts for under £3, friendly servers, and the comforting clatter of cutlery against sturdy trays.
Closing Statement:
These fragments of story, photo, and recollection do not claim to be complete. They are glimpses—some clear, others uncertain—into a time shaped by hard work, modest pride, and quiet resilience. In gathering them, the aim has not been to chronicle every fact, but to trace the spirit that moved through a kitchen, a counter, a hill, and a life.
Frank & Edith’s four children
Monica, born on 16 June 1922, in Stockbridge, died May 2019, 96 years old
Olive, born on 24 June 1924, in Stockbridge, died 20 January 2019, 94 years old
Una was born on 13 January 1926 in Stockbridge, died on 25 July 2009. 83 years old
Frank Maurice, born 10 March 1932, in Lulworth, died 14 June 2009. age 77
The Life & Times of Frank Ernest Errett (1899–1982)
The Early Years (Kent)
1899: Born at 33 Lavender Hill, Rusthall. Parents: Walter Edwin Errett and Sarah Jane.
1901: Household in crisis following Walter's death (aged 36). Frank is fostered by the Startup family in Southborough.
1910: Mother remarries Henry John Field; Frank returns to live at 3 Apsley Street.
1913–1914: A period of "boyhood scrapes," including the golf club theft, the "kipper" story, and a bicycle collision on Bishop’s Down Road.
1916: Admitted to Shoreditch Infirmary after running away from home. Authorities record him as "unsettled."
The Turning Point (Military Service)
1917–1921: Direction found via the Salvation Army and the Regular Army.
1921: Joins the Royal Artillery. Trains as a Gunner at Larkhill Camp, Salisbury Plain.
Early 1920s: Posted to Ireland for internal security duties.
Building a Life (Hampshire & Dorset)
1922: Marries Edith May Tarrant in Stockbridge.
1923–1932: Runs a Fish & Chip shop in Stockbridge (the "coffin" sidecar era). Children Monica, Olive, and Una are born.
1929–1931: Chef in the Officers’ Mess at Lulworth Gunnery School. Potential encounters with T.E. Lawrence.
1933: Son Frank Maurice is born at East Lulworth. Family lives at West Whiteway Farmhouse (Tyneham).
The "Pie King" of Southwick (Sussex)
1934: Becomes Head Chef at the Brighton New Club.
1935: Moves to Southwick.
1936–1940: Establishes the pie-making business at 154 Old Shoreham Road.
The War Years: Works as Head Chef at British Home Stores (BHS) while the family runs the pie business at home (using the marble slab as an air-raid shelter).
The "Tin Shed": Supplies pies to the outlet at Portslade Station (the repurposed Guy Runabout bus).
Later Years & Legacy
1950s: Pursues poultry and pig farming in Partridge Green and Four Marks.
1972: Retires to Locks Court, Southwick. Spends his time oil painting and fishing at Dover Pond.
1982: Dies in Worthing. His ashes are scattered at Dover Pond, marked by the water lilies he reportedly planted.
