The sun was more than generous for the time of year as it tried to burn my bald head. A gentle breeze attempted to cool my head and us as we walked along, soaking up the melodious birdsong. They serenaded one another and protected their territory. My wife often remarks that she can hear the village gossip as the birds chatter joyously to one another.
The cuckoo is back in the woods with us again, calling for mates. We counted at least three different calls, possibly four or five – how wonderful! Last year, we thought there might be fewer, but this year there are several more.
For early May, it is exceptionally hot, sunny, and bright, with new growth presenting itself for examination. Ferns are uncurling, laurels sprouting up, celandines flowering, and a few early butterflies flit around us as we walk with the dog around what had once been the Cannock Chase Great War Hospital.
No one would ever know that there had been a hospital here apart from a private sign nailed to a tree, or a memorial to one of those who once lived there but is now deceased.
However, this year, the local Cannock Chase Council came to the end of the financial year with extra money in their pot, and rather than lose their allocation for next year, decided to spend some of it frivolously on some meaningless road signs.
Now, what would you expect to see having spied a sign like this one?
As can be seen, the sign announces the approach to ‘Brindley Historical Village’. My wife and I remarked; “But there’s nothing to see! How misleading for visitors” Two days later, we met a couple from Coventry visiting the Chase and looking for ‘Brindley Village’. They were so disappointed to find that all there were were some picture signs scattered about (one with loads of dog dirt bags) under it and one old concrete base.
The signs are so misleading that they should read ‘Brindley Hysterical Village’.
The story of the Village
The hospital (for that is what it was) was built to treat Commonwealth soldiers injured during the Great War. When the hospital was no longer needed, the buildings were taken over by coal mine workers. The place had all the facilities of a fully formed community. There was a church, shops, a hospital of course, a place to school the children, a social hall, running water, toilets, etc.
Tales are still told by the few children of residents who live nearby of how Dad would go off to the mine at night and return home in the morning weary and tired, looking forward to a bath and some sleep, only to find that the family had moved – but where to? To what Mum felt was better accommodation on the hospital site. Was she perhaps trying to tell him something?
The local authority eventually built a new Brindley Village nearby and demolished the old Great War hospital, having moved the residents to the modern properties. However, the children who grew up in the old hospital-cum-village and played in the woods will still tell you tales of a magical childhood.
There is nothing left of the old hospital-cum-village, nothing at all. So when people turn up hoping to see remnants of what was, they will see a few brand new signs, a badly maintained car park littered with rubbish and some dirty dog bags with handles tied in knots.
(Apologies to those of us who have dogs, but some are too idle to take their refuse home to dispose of).
By the way, it is a great place to walk! Nature has taken over and done a great job, as I hope the photos show.
Bye for now!