Thursday 24th April 1975 Sheffield Star (page 9)

Memories of an orphan boy

Naval commander relives his childhood in Sheffield

By a staff reporter.

Sheffield has always held a touch of magic for Eric Hill. In 1916, as the eldest of four orphan brothers, home became Cherrytree Children's Home, Totley, run on subscriptions from generous Sheffield benefactors. 

Then, with the help and guidance of the orphanage authorities, he was sent to naval school, joined the Royal Navy, served on the city's own fighting ship, the 'Shiny Sheff' and the Royal Yacht Britannia, was mentioned in despatches and made a member of the Victorian Order. Now, after a self-imposed exile of more than 15 years, Eric, aged 64, and a retired Royal Navy Commander, is to pay a nostalgic visit to the city as guest of honour at the orphanage’s annual meeting.

When his parents died in 1916, Eric and his three younger brothers walked the short distance from their home at Totley Brook Cottages to the orphanage, the three older ones pushing Leslie, the baby, up the long drive in his pram. "To my young eyes the whole building and rooms were enormous, as were the gardens and playing area, and as the maximum number of children was 15 of each sex, there was plenty of space for everyone."

The building that so impressed young Eric was passed on to the Cheshire Homes Organisation in 1963, but Cherrytree Children’s Home, now Sheffield’s only independent orphanage, moved into a new custom-made building next door. Despite the austere exterior, the children had little cause for being unhappy or homesick. Life was comfortable and carefree.

The three youngest Hill brothers, Graham, aged five, Cecil, four and 18-month-old Leslie, were too young to properly remember their parents and Mrs. Haigh, the matron, and Miss Carr, the schoolteacher, became mother figures.

All the children worked, ate and played together, and in the evenings separated to go to the identical boys, and girls dormitories. In the dining hall they sat in order of age, with the girls on the opposite side of the room from the boys. The food was adequate, if not overadventurous, usually consisting of meat pies and stews served with potatoes, spinach and greens, which the children unanimously hated.

"On rice pudding days the current sweethearts of the two girls serving got the pudding dishes which contained more than would appear on a plate, and had that lovely thick skin slicking to the edges," the Commander recalled. Despite adequate meals, Eric was continually in trouble for illegal sorties to fill his stomach. His escapades included raiding the orchard, using the gardener’s ladder to climb in through the kitchen window and hand down freshly baked bread to the other children, and sliding down the coke chute into the boiler room to bake potatoes stolen from local farmers' fields.

"I was always in trouble, and at one stage seemed destined to end up in reform school. You could almost hear the sigh of relief the staff breathed when I finally left, and even then I managed to tail down the front steps on my way out," he said.

Everyone at the home wore a uniform, the boys corduroy suits, and the girls blue gym slips. The boys who were "press-ganged" into the choir of St. John’s, the local church, also had the double burden of being forced to wear straw boaters. For the rebellious Eric this cissy practice was soon slopped. To get rid of the offending article he fed it to a donkey he met on the way to church. He was thrown out of the choir for firing a catapult at a lady singing solo during a special Sunday service, using torn uo pages from his psalter as ammunition.

"I was dead on target and the resulting howl she gave did not blend with the notes set out in her score. The Rev. Mr. Kerfoot, backed by the choirmaster, made it all too clear to the matron that the choir was out for me."

Even playtime was not without hidden hazards. A game of Robin Hood in nearby woods resulted in Eric’s eye being cut by the knitting needle arrow from one of Robin's merry men.

When he stole an illicit ride on the back of the butcher’s carl he fell off and dislocated his shoulder, landing himself in more hot-water.   

Although the children started their education at a special orphanage school they all eventually went to (he village school, which was over a mile away.

"It took me some lime to get used to the fact that the village kids considered us orphanage kids below par. "Our uniforms did not help and made us most conspicuous, especially to the village bobby who blamed us for all manner of things."

When he was 11, Eric was one of the few boys at the orphanage allowed to join the local Scout troop commanded by Dr. Mary Andrews. "The gamble, I think, paid off well, because by the time I was 13 matron and the members of the committee had been convinced that the threatened move to a reform school should be removed."

When he was 14, aand old enough to leave Cherrytree, Dr. Andrews, now aged 84 and living in a Sheffield nursing home, made Eric her ward, and sponsored him through Sea Trsining School until he joined the Navy in 1925.

Since joining the Navy he has served in several ships, including the aircraft carrier Theseus and four years with HMS Sheffield. He was capped for the RN for football, and was a member of the Navy Tug of War and Field Gun team at the Royal Tournament.

"The orphanage must take a large share of credit for the reasonably successful job I think I have made of my life so lar, and the only reason I have listed my meagre achievements is to underline: Not too bad for an Orphanage Kid."