I start this week with an apology. A few weeks ago I received an email containing the picture above.

It came from Laurie Elvin, who is chairman of the South-West Herts Archaeological and Historical Society. Laurie wrote because he’s going to lead some heritage walks in Cassiobury soon (the first one’s on Sunday, June 28) and he has a query. I’ll leave him to take up the story.

“During the research,” he wrote, “I came across the attached image on Google Earth, which shows a ‘patchwork strip’ south of the houses and gardens in Parkside Drive. I think this must be the World War II allotments, which were reinstated to parkland about 1949, I think.

“In the middle of the picture, just south of the main avenue, appear to be a row of six huts – but I don’t know what these were.

“I wondered if you might do a piece on this and ask for people’s memories of wartime activities in the park during the two world wars.”

And so I intended two weeks ago – but forgot. So, apologies, Laurie, and I’ll make amends now. Does anyone know what those six “huts” are? And does anyone have any memories of wartime activities in the park which he may be able to relate to people during his walks? Please write and let me know. I’ll pass all your correspondence on. I promise...

Staying in wartime, I found a great story in the Watford Observer of June 30, 1995, and although it’s only 20 years ago – so a bit recent for us really – I liked it so much I decided to break my own guidelines and tell you all about it.

It concerns D-Day war veteran Fred Dobson, who was, the paper says, “dumbfounded” when his pocket army knife turned up in Abbots Langley 50 years after it was lost during the heat of battle in a muddy Normandy field.
Here’s how the paper reported his remarkable story.

“Mr Dobson had been docked half a day’s pay by the army for mislaying his trusty blade while en route to the front line in 1944.

“The 69-year-old former soldier, who runs an antiques shop in Abbots Langley High Street, got quite a shock when a customer presented him with a knife he had found on holiday in Normandy last year.

“He immediately recognised the standard issue knife as his own and decided to write to the War Department saying: ‘I am sure the knife is mine as it has no war department mark and has a broken blade – which I did when opening an ammunition box.

“‘I am returning the knife, so please may I have my one shilling and sixpence back, plus postage.’”

“The ex-infantryman, who was just 18 when he joined the Bedfordshire and Hertfordshire Regiment, then received a cheque from the Ministry of Defence for the equivalent of his lost wages – 7½ pence. Postage and packing costs brought the sum to £1.20.

“The grandfather-of-two said: ‘We were just boys slowly going up to the line in a reinforcement holding unit when I lost my knife.

 “‘It was such an important part of our equipment. We used it every day for opening up food tins. Later, I was passing a supply tent, well within range of enemy guns, when I heard someone shout ‘Anyone lost a knife?’

“‘So I went into the tent and got myself a new one. The quartermaster said I would have to sign for it and, because I was so young and green, I did.’

“Mr Dobson was injured while carrying ammunition boxes just a couple of weeks later and was evacuated from the war zone.

“It was from his ward bed that he learned his monthly salary had been docked.

“The antique dealer added: ‘It was an enormous amount in those days. How mean can you get? I thought. I’ve always remembered it and it really hurt me at the time.’”