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Monday 26 September 2016

Gretna and Eastriggs: Home of Devil’s Porridge

Prior to the First World War, the townships of Gretna and Eastriggs did not exist. The name Gretna, however, with its associations with the village of Gretna Green, famous for over the anvil weddings, gives the impression that Gretna is an old-established town. But Gretna Green is situated 1.2 miles further north of the newer township of Gretna.
Blacksmiths Shop Gretna Green
When the Ministry of Munitions built HM Factory Gretna, it quickly became obvious that the accommodation available in the area would not be sufficient to accommodate the thousands of workers required to manufacture the munitions. As a result, two complete townships were built by the Ministry to service the factory and house the workforce. Eastriggs was built on a 173-acre site, while Gretna’s site occupied 431 acres. There were over 1,000 permanent cottages built on these sites by the end of the war.

Eastriggs serviced the Dornock area of the factory and is 4.5 miles west of Gretna, although many of the munitionettes lived in the Gretna hostels and travelled daily to either the Dornock site in the west or the eastern Mossband site over the border in England.

Gordon L Routledge, in Gretna’s Secret War, says “Where before there were only a few farmhouses, suddenly there was a city of 20,000 factory workers and their families under the control of the Ministry of Munitions. In addition to huts for their accommodation, clubs, refreshment rooms, churches, and other buildings were erected for their benefit.”

Many of the buildings in Gretna were made of wood, temporary homes for temporary workers, and it was soon nicknamed Timbertown. The wooden houses, set out like a military grid, contained between three to five rooms and were for families or groups. However, there were also larger brick-built hostels used mainly for unmarried women as well as some permanent cottages for families. However, while the temporary hostel accommodation in Gretna and Eastriggs housed around 19,000 single male and female workers, the purpose-built permanent cottages provided space for only 550 families.
 
Gretna - Timber Town (apologies for the quality)
All the hostels were named after military leaders and famous people. Wellington, Kitchener, and Wolfe were situated on Victory Avenue and Burnside Road as was The Pensions Hospital, and the Maternity House Hostel. Clive and Gordon Hostels were on Central Avenue, while Mary Queen of Scots Hostel, which features in Devil’s Porridge, was located on Dominion Road. The hostels in Victory Avenue were all the larger brick-built ones, but the buildings in Dominion Road were wooden. Likewise, the women police were based in a large wooden hostel.
 
Central Avenue, Gretna
Both Eastriggs and Gretna were self-sufficient, providing everything needed within a town. For example, Gretna Township’s facilities included a central shopping area, a cinema, a dance hall and concert hall, churches, schools, bank, post office, bakery, laundry, assembly halls, sports grounds, hotels and clubs. It even had its own railway station.
 
The munitions workers travelled by train to their work areas
The Ministry of Munitions controlled all the towns in the area including Carlisle, and they imposed draconian measures to curb drinking which applied to all hotels and public houses. This included early closing times, no drinks served without meals, and no treating. It was an offence to buy someone else a drink.

There was nowhere else in Britain quite like Gretna Munitions Factory and the surrounding area. This was why it made it such a fascinating setting for Devil’s Porridge, my new Kirsty Campbell Mystery novel.

Chris Longmuir
You can buy Devil’s Porridge here:

If you would like a free short story featuring DS Bill Murphy from my popular Dundee Crime Series then click the image or visit my website to fill in the form to tell me where to send it.
Meet Bill Murphy long before he became a policeman. Get a taste of the child that made the man.




Monday 12 September 2016

Bloody Scotland Photo Gallery



Scotland's International Crime Festival which has been dedicated this year to the memory of William McIlvanney, who sadly passed away earlier this year. Not only is the festival dedicated in his honour, but so too is the Scottish crime Book of the Year Award, now named The McIlvanney Prize.


Stuart MacBride and Caro Ramsay opened the crime festival with their own distinctive brands of humour which left the festival goers wanting more.



They were followed by the hilarious, if somewhat, foul-mouthed duo, Mark Billingham, and Chris Brookmyre. As an aside, Chris won the McIlvanney Prize, and will go down in history as the first recipient.


Chris and Mark sneaking off the stage before anyone has a chance to ask for a refund.


Scotland the Grave was hilarious as each author defended their own part of the country. Catriona McPherson fought the corner for Galloway, Douglas Skelton threatened everyone with a police cosh in an effort to come out ahead of the others, Gillian Galbraith thought Edinburgh was the best crime location, and Russel D McLean defended Dundee. He's a nice lad, Russel. He gave me a shout out by saying he was the only crime writer writing about Dundee until Chris Longmuir (me) came along a couple of years later and then said very complimentary things about my books which I'm too modest to repeat.


Val McDermid, talking about her new book, was next on the programme for me. Val is always entertaining and I enjoy listening to her.


Alanna Knight, a very dear friend and one of my favourite authors presented a new drama production with several willing authors acting the parts. Alanna is on the left of this photo introducing the play and it's actors before the action starts. Gordon Brown, the author not the politician, made a very imposing policeman, although I don't think he needed to keep order while Alanna was speaking.


And here is Gordon, our imposing policeman, reporting to Inspector Faro, who looks a lot like Stuart MacBride.



Now we can see the full cast: Stuart MacBride heading the proceedings, Gordon Brown standing guard on the suspects.



And to finish off Saturday the male authors and female authors pitted their wits against each other in a hilarious quiz. There were a couple of later events, but my granddaughter comes with me to these festivals. She loves them. So the Curly Coo or Darling Clementine wasn't an option for us.


I don't suppose any other crime festival asks the contestants to guess crime show theme tunes played on the bagpipes. But this is Bloody Scotland and anything goes.



Lin Anderson and forensic soil scientist Professor Lorna Dawson were digging up the bodies on Sunday morning. These forensic events are always full of fascinating information.


Next on the agenda was Victorian Gothic with Oscar De Muriel setting his historical crime novel in an Edinburgh lunatic asylum, and E S Thomson featuring a mystery set in a crumbling London infirmary.


Witness the Dead concentrated on how good a witness anyone in the audience would be. The crime author panel was quizzed by Professor Graham Pike, an expert in eyewitness identification, on how their fictional character would investigate the crime which had been shown on the screen, while the audience were asked to identify the criminal. Needless to say, quite a lot of people made the wrong identification despite having clearly seen the perpetrator.

This photo gallery is simply a selection of events I attended, but there were many other events I didn't attend because there were always three choices to pick from. The dilemma at Bloody Scotland is always what to choose and what to miss out on.

I hope you've enjoyed my photos of Bloody Scotland, and if you haven't been to it yet then you really must put it in your diary. It's an unmissable event.

Chris Longmuir


If you would like a free short story featuring DS Bill Murphy from my popular Dundee Crime Series then visit my website and fill in a form to tell me where to send it. Meet Bill Murphy long before he became a policeman. Get a taste of the child that made the man.