Raymond George Hamblett

 "In this chapter, I want to trace the life of my father, Raymond George Hamblett—known simply as Ray to everyone who knew him. By following the thread of his childhood and his journey alongside his three siblings, I hope to capture the spirit of the man who started his journey in 1921 and left us in 2004, leaving behind a legacy that still feels incredibly close today."

Raymond George Hamblett: 1921 – 2004. A life lived through a century of transformation.

The earliest photo of Raymond George soon after his birth on 14th November 1921
His parents are Sidney and Annie Hamblett

Name	Date of Birth
Laurence Sydney James	8th March 1920
Raymond George	21st November 1921
Victor Hugh	21st April 1925
Marguerite Kathleen	3rd February 1927

Here is Raymond with eldest brother Laurence
Laurence was born on 8th March 1920

Shown here in what is probably the garden of 301 Portland Road. The children here with their mother Annie, are Marguerite, Joan Mary Stella Morton, Raymond George and Lawrence Sydney James, Victor was behind the camera. Sidney was chopped out of the frame, the 'headless' figure at the back.
Joan was a regular visitor to the family, she had lost her father in WW1

 

Raymond and Victor are looking dressed in their school clothes in the 1930s.
Marguerite in her 'Sunday Best'

Raymond attended local schools in Portland Road and the Knoll School. Walking distance away.

Here, seeming shy of the camera, or maybe the sun was in his eyes, Raymond, with Lawrence, the tallest, Victor holding the hand of Marguerite. This would be sometime around 1930. 
Marguerite was born in 1927, and she looks to be about 3 years old here.

The next time we see them they are in Southwick.

Here on the railings of the southern end of Southwick Green are the family perhaps two years later.
I'm not sure what took them to Southwick at this time, but they did all move into a bungalow in Overhill, but i believed that to be later.
If they had moved to Southwick at the time of this picture, the children would have attended The Green School just behind this image and to right. But they may have just been visiting the area. Raymond being unaware that his future wife would come to live in Southwick yards away from where he sat at no.9 Cross Road. She would attend the Green School and would walk that same ground to and from her home.
The trail goes cold from here, I have just one recollection that Ray took an apprenticeship in a woodworking environment but nothing more is known about it. He would have been aware that his Grandfather was a cabinet maker but probably rarely saw him.
We find Ray next having been called up into the army

As Dad prepared for his service with the RASC, these formal portraits were taken—perhaps as a steadying presence for the family back home in Brighton. Looking at him here, in the crisp lines of his uniform, it is hard to reconcile this young soldier with the man who would later spend his days amongst the fabrics and fashions of Burghopes. They are snapshots of a pivotal moment when his life took a sudden, sharp turn away from the quiet workshops of his youth.

In the photograph, my father is leaning against a Dodge T214-WC series truck, specifically the 3/4-ton 4x4 model often referred to as a "Beep" (short for Big Jeep). Behind it is a CMP (Canadian Military Pattern) truck, identifiable by its distinctively sloped nose. These were the workhorses of the British and Commonwealth transport units during and immediately after the war.

The numbers and symbols on these vehicles were part of a standardised tactical marking system:

The Tactical Markings

• The Arm of Service (AoS) Plate: The bold "83" on the white square (fender) is the AoS number. In a British Infantry Division, 83 typically designated a Royal Army Service Corps (RASC) unit attached to an Infantry Brigade.

• The Unit Serial: The number "48" on the hood and the "43" on the CMP truck represent the specific unit or vehicle serial within that transport company.

• The Formation Sign: While partially obscured or faded in this shot, the small symbols (like the "9" in a circle on the CMP) indicated the specific Division or Brigade the trucks belonged to.

• The Census Number: The smaller white numbers (like "40959" on the Dodge bumper and "33492" on the CMP) are census numbers, effectively the military "license plate" that stayed with the vehicle for its entire service life.

The smell of fresh-cut oak and mahogany was replaced by the stinging scent of petrol and diesel. Here, Dad and a mate take a break amidst a mountain of 'Jerry' cans—part of the endless fuel supply needed to keep the RASC's fleet of Dodges and CMPs on the road."

"One of the most remarkable parts of Dad’s service was that he managed to get his younger brother, Vic, posted to the same unit. In a world of millions of soldiers, he made sure the Hamblett brothers stuck together. Seeing them side-by-side in these photos, leaning against the very trucks that had become their daily lives, shows a bond that went far beyond the workshop or the shop floor."

From Khaki to Commerce: The Return to Brighton

This image signals the end of an era. Whether home on leave or newly demobbed, Dad stands in a quiet garden—a world away from the noise_ of the CMP trucks and the mountains of Jerry cans. The discipline of the RASC had shaped him, but the familiar brickwork of home was calling. It was time to return to civilian life, eventually finding his way to the busy shopfloors of Burghopes and the family firm of Sidney James. Hamblett & Nye
___________________________________________________________________________________

On returning to civilian life, Ray took up the opportunity to work in the retail trade. It is not clear how he found out about a position in the firm Burghopes. As far as I know, this was his first job after leaving the army.  I don't know the circumstances that led him to go to work for his father, Sidney. It may have been for better money or a more secure position, either way dad took to it and became a part of the team.

The Family Firm: Sidney James, Hamblett & Nye

The job involved delivering goods and collecting credit payments or cash in full for customers who couldn't get to the shop in person. There wasn't much time spent in the shop; it was mainly about travelling in and around the district. Some clients were as far afield as Rustington in the west or Burgess Hill, northwards, the estates of Brighton. He would purchase stock items from a nearby Warehouse on Grand Parade called Frickers.
Working in the shop was a lady assistant bookkeeper who kept the ledgers up to date. Another man was employed doing a similar role to Dad, travelling out to customers. I have no information about him. I can just about recall him in the shop once, when I was taken there, it must have been during my school holidays
It was an unassuming frontage comprising of two properties, nos. 21/22 Shown here after the shop had changed hands and had alterations to the front of no. 21. Namely, a large window was put in where previously there was only a small window, concealing the bookkeeper's desk space inside.

courtesy the James Gray Collection
Formerly the Hamblett & Nye clothiers business at 21/22 Oxford Street

It may be seen that the restaurant had a fire when the fat caught alight, causing damage to the building to such an extent that it was all demolished and replaced with an office block.

A Downland Romance and a Growing Family. 

After the war, he continued to live with his parents, at their home at Overhill, Southwick, where he would meet his future wife, Una, while walking his dog on the Downland above their bungalow.

Their marriage was on the 13th of September 1948.

In 1950, they had their first child, Michael, born on 22nd October of that year.

Four years later, another child arrived, June was born on 10th May 1954.

Four years after that event, on 25 May 1958, their third child came along, me, named after my father. They christened me Raymond Clive. I've never much liked the name Clive, but it's a bit too late to change now, 

Their final child came seven years later, 11th February 1965, Robert Edward. 

Taking the Reins: The 1970s and the Green Bedford Van

In 1972, Ray's father, Sidney James, retired from business. This led Dad to take over the business, of which by this time he had become a partner. He decided it was the only course of action; he must have made up his mind what he would do when his father retired.
One of the first things he did was to buy a larger vehicle, which was a green Bedford van with windows all round and bench seats at the back. Using his knowledge of woodworking, he built in shelving at the back of the van over one of the bench seats. 

This arrangement wasn't destined to work well, and about a year later, he swapped the van for a Vauxhall Viva estate, with the back seat down, it had ample space for his needs. And it meant that trips out on Sundays were comfortable for Una and some of the family.

Sunday Institutions: Gardens, Allotments, and the Boundary Line

Trips out on Sundays were an institution with Dad, there was always a place to go, Mum's favourite was to visit a garden, whether it be a National Garden Scheme in aid of Nurses' charities or a large Stately house garden such as Leonards Lea, Sheffield Park or Nymans. I went to most of these while I was young, and as I grew more independent, I sometimes opted out.

His big love in life was simple things, his allotment, which he tended regularly and his enjoyment of the game of Cricket. When there was no cricket, he followed his football team, the Brighton & Hove Albion.
Often attending the home games at the old Goldstone ground, now lost to a collection of DIY and super stores. 
He played a good game of cricket. In his prime, he was a leading run-scorer, often able to hit the ball over the boundary line. He played for the local Portslade team, travelling to matches that were played away. As a child, I was often taken along with Mum, and we'd have sandwiches for tea. And tea from a flask or orange squash.

When there was sport coverage on TV, he would be an avid watcher, whether it be Cricket from the Oval or Football from Manchester United or any other team, it seemed. He would watch other sports too. Snooker was one of his favourites, although not one he had taken up himself. Darts were another one seen on TV. When we were younger, we had a dartboard up in the back room, Dad was quite a decent player, and his skill at adding scores in his head was always useful.

Castles in the Sand: Memories of Ovingdean and Beyond

In summer, if there was no other priority, we might go to the beach, which Dad liked. We would take a decent-sized spade and dig castles and moats

When I was about 8 years old, we had a trip to 'Black Rock' at Ovingdean, to do rockpooling. I would look for crabs. We didn't know anything about the biodiversity of Rock Pools then

June, Dad, baby Robert and me, Raymond at Ovingdean.
This would be where the Brighton Marina was built, and all the rockpools lost.

Family holidays had always been near the coast. In this next view, Dad and Michael are in a rowing boat offshore at Falmouth; no lifejackets in those days, (Dad doesn't have a wooden leg, as much as it looks like one) 

This would be about 1953