Peter Gilham (23 Aug 1932 - 11 May 2023)

In loving memory of Peter Gilham who sadly passed away on 11th May 2023

Peter Fredrick Gilham was born in Woolwich SE London on the 23rd of August 1932. He was the only child born to Fredrick and Ivy.

He grew up in Bexleyheath, SE London, his father was a milkman and then a fireman during the Second World War; his mother was a school dinner lady, and then later, a teacher assistant.

Growing up, Peter was close to his younger cousin, Hazel and he would take her to the pictures on a Saturday morning.

It was with the arrival of the Second World War, Peter got his first job… looking for approaching German Doodlebugs whilst sitting on the family bungalow roof… He was aged eleven!

The war brought its own excitement. Peter and his friends, Len, Terry, Vic, and John, rode their bicycles around the SE London neighbourhood looking for crashed aeroplanes, war debris and mischief. Often to be told to clear off by the local warden… Though still young, this time would be the start of a lifelong love affair with aeroplanes.

Towards the end of the war, with the family home already badly damaged three times; a German V2 rocket landed close by taking the roof off the bungalow and blowing Peter into the cabbage patch… It led to him being evacuated to Dymchurch, on the Kent coast.

Yes, Peter managed to get evacuated to a place where he could see even more aeroplanes flying overhead… Though he must have been one of the few in the country who missed VE day as he mistook the bonfires and celebrations, as people rioting… He was one day late in celebrating the end of the war.

Now back in London and his time at Bedonwell School now over, with the help of his friend, John Horton, Peter got his first real job… a messenger boy at the Woolwich Arsenal… and a few months later, this led to a full engineering apprenticeship there.

To get to work Peter used a bicycle and every day he rode past a café which had a big picture of a Knickerbocker Glory ice cream in the window. However, at the time he never had the money to buy such an enticing yet expensive item…

We come back to this and Bedonwell School later… as Peter’s life was about to change…

One wintry evening, he attended a dance in Crayford, Town Hall where he saw a very attractive lady dancing with another lady. It was Joan and her niece Beryl. When Peter caught Joan’s eye…it was the start of their courtship which lasted until 1953 when Peter had to start his national service in the RAF.

Peter had a bit of a shock when Joan casually dropped into a telephone conversation that she had booked the church! …Then added … all is arranged and that their banns were being read the next day.

Our mum had “organised” our dad for the first time. All Peter had to do was turn up at the church on time and he did… by catching the bus dressed in his suit with his best man…Terry Murphy.

Peter and Joan got married on 7th November 1953, at St. Paulinus Church, Crayford. It was the start of a happy marriage which would last over 68 years and result in 3 children… but that is getting ahead of us.

Their honeymoon was riding a tandem around Jersey whilst staying at a B&B in St Brelade’s Bay but all too soon Peter’s national service began. With square bashing at Padgate, then skills training at St Athens in South Wales and National Service deployment at RAF Upwood, Northamptonshire…

There he ended up working on servicing the aeroplane engines as he was the only one there… who could read an engineering micrometre.

While stationed at RAF Upwood, every weekend he would ride his motorbike home to see Joan… who at the time was living in Bexleyheath with Peter’s parents.

Peter was a Triumph motorbike man. He owned a whole series of them and used to travel all over Kent with Joan on the back. His long-time London mates also had motorbikes which sometimes led to a little mischief… Like when Peter decided it was a good idea to ride his Triumph motorbike along Hyde seafront… at speed… with two lit fireworks, one attached to each exhaust pipe… That certainly caused a stir amongst the people queuing at the local bus stop!

When Peter finished his national service, his job moved to MEXE in Christchurch, in 1956, a place where his parents had been on holiday. So they knew where it was… Much to Peter’s father's surprise, they decided to move and purchase the end plot of land in Somerford Avenue from Mr Grey… It was all done by word of mouth and payments were made “every so often” in cash only.

With Peter selling his motorbike to buy the bricks … Joan and Peter set about building their home together. First living in a caravan at Wick Fields… it’s near the Captain's Club… before another caravan on the plot of land while building the garage and then living in that… It was Luxury… It had a sink and running water… then between them, they turned their building expertise to the bungalow that in 1957 turned into no 20… It was a property that Peter was going to live in for the next 66 years.

At MEXE Peter worked in the main workshop, then the model room before deciding to take a post in the bridge testing lab running the fatigue machines… yes Peter broke bridges for a living.
But it was while he was in the main workshop he… somehow… got the job as the workshop first aider… There was only one small problem… Peter would faint at the sight of blood… It was something his work colleagues would occasionally pull his leg about.

Peter had many wonderful years working at MEXE including testing a bridge in Westminster Abby near the King Charles coronation chair… Peter, looking for somewhere to sit to rest… and not knowing… was only stopped at the last minute by his work colleagues from sitting in it.

Some of Peter’s MEXE colleagues, Brian Smith, Graham Gill, Tony, Graham Barker, Gordon Blake, Martin Lewis, Keith Kent, there were many more…

In the 1960s, Peter and Joan had three boys, David, Martin and Richard.

A skilled craftsman, Peter could turn his hand to anything. With these skills, he built his first large family boat, Zircon. Then later, bought and upgraded a larger boat, Spray Dancer, which during one sailing trip in the Solent nearly got run over by a Sunderland Flying boat which was trying to land… Yes, Peter was trying to get a closer view of the aeroplane.

Sailing was Peter’s main hobby. He sailed around the Solent, Poole and Christchurch harbour, often accompanied by family friends (Pat & Len, Jack & Barbara, Vick & Pam, Harry & Jan, Dunny & Loo, Henry and Shirley). We had many happy holidays on the boats.

Peter also used to crew in large racing boats, crossing the channel several times during races… Then in later years, he passed on his boating knowledge first to the boys at Mudeford Sea Scouts and later, to rich, new, boat owners when he used to take them out for weekend sailing trips from Poole.

Over the years the boys grew up and married Caroline, Karen and Jo… and Peter became grandad to Emma, Zoe, Matthew, Luke, Heather, Jessie and Freddie.

With the boys were grown up, and retirement… The boat was replaced by the campervan with very many camping trips with the family and friends (David & Rosemary, Lynne & Roy, Mike & Divina, John and Shirley).

The campervan was Peter’s pride and joy. He had purchased a second-hand blue and white VW van and renovated it, turning it into a beautiful campervan which he took on several trips to Scotland and four tours of France, with David and Rosemary.

Air shows were another event he liked to take the campervan to, especially when we all went to Mildenhall with the whole family in the van… and got in for the price of one vehicle.

Of course, air shows bring us to one of Peter’s other hobbies… collecting books on aeroplanes and the war. The book stalls being his first port of call on arrival… He was pretty good at doing this, often smuggling them into the house under Joan’s nose and then slowly introducing them… to his growing library.

Then there were the oil paintings he painted. He was self-taught and they were really good… if you liked aeroplanes… or war. Other hobbies over the years, manufacturing model cannons, and Scottish dancing, until his hamstring went… he said it was like being shot… making plastic model aeroplane kits… he has made thousands of them… all of them at a very high standard… and finally finishing off Joan’s never-ending DIY list.

Joan was a good cook and Peter liked to eat her food, especially his favourite… her cream slices… Often trying to sneak an extra one… but nearly always getting caught.

While he didn’t really drink alcohol, there was one beverage that always made his Christmas list… Bailey’s Irish Cream… It was his tipple… and had the power to make him nap every Christmas Day afternoon.

New Year’s Eve was the night when the bungalow was filled with their many friends (Don & Audrey, Henry & Shirley) for eating, drinking and lots and lots of dancing with Peter and Joan’s favourite dance being, the foxtrot.

There was one thing that Peter was not very good at, and that was disposing of things at the local council tip… He would load up the box trailer and tow it there behind the campervan… dispose of those items… Then reload the box trailer with the “bargains” he purchased there.

There were two things I want to mention he did well into retirement. The first was he returned to Bedonwell School, it was the school he went to during the Second World War… There he recounted what it was like going to school there during that time.

The other was that, Knickerbocker Glory ice cream. During a holiday in Cyprus, Peter bought his first one… it was delicious… and well worth the sixty-year wait.

But that little story summed Peter up… always cheerful… always happy to help anyone and that is why he had so many friends and we are proud to call him… our dad.

Fate had one last cruel twist… In later life, as Joan’s body and mind started to fail her… Peter took up the huge task of caring for her at home… He did an outstanding job, and with the help of Esther, rose to the challenge of giving Joan a place to feel safe.

Along the way he also learned some new skills, cooking, using the washing machine, and growing tomato plants with some encouragement from Esther who has now become the whole family’s friend.

Peter and Joan were married for 67 years and had 2 telegrams from the Queen.

The Gilham’s weren’t the richest family, but they were a happy family with both Mum and Dad at the very centre of it…

Peter… Dad… You will always be in our hearts… We love you.