Remarkable poet & Honiton resident Stan shares his gift

With Rhyme & Reason

Stan Gibbs is a resident at Hill House care home in Honiton. We sat down with him to talk about his life, career, and amazing talent for composing poetry.

We first learned of Stan’s skills with a pen when he sent in his poem for the Abbeyfield Christmas competition. His entry, fittingly entitled Don’t Be Miserable, was printed on the inside of our digital Christmas card, perfectly conveying the message that Christmas is a time to celebrate, as he put it, ‘with friends from near and far.’

We heard that this was just the latest in a great many poems that Stan has penned throughout his lifetime, so we were intrigued to see where it all comes from. Stan’s terrific sense of humour is evident from the start of our interview, and his sharp wit is prevalent throughout his poetry. When confirming his age – an incredible 95 (belied by his boundless energy) – he quips dryly, “the first 94 were the worst!”

Born and raised in Portsmouth, Stan left school at 14 to work at the Fleetlands Royal Naval Air Yard, near Gosport, where his job was maintaining the naval fighters in the repair yard.

“It was a small boy’s delight, to work on all those aircraft,” he recalls.

“As a yard boy, I only got the back end of every job, but I was lucky to spend a lot of time on the airfield itself.

“During the war, before D-Day, we used to get up early in the morning to count the Americans flying out in tight formation to the continent, and then we’d wait to count them back in. We could tell how much of a toll it was taking because of the cartridges they fired before landing, which were colour-coded to say whether they had any dead or wounded soldiers on board. Unfortunately, we saw a lot of red for the dead, and yellow for the wounded.

“However, even in wartime, there were some amusing incidents. The Americans needed a lot of space on the airfield to take off and land, so us Brits we were all picketed down one end. One day, one of the American planes flew back in without almost any control. It went the whole length of the airstrip and nearly slid into our aircraft. When it came to a standstill, the front came down and all the airmen tumbled out, and we yard boys all piled in to see what was wrong with the plane.

“We couldn’t believe what we saw: a load of ham sandwiches wrapped in white grease-proof paper. Our food always came wrapped in last week’s News of the World, so this was new to our eyes, and we hadn’t seen ham for several years. So, of course, we stole their sandwiches – a small price to pay for nearly getting run over by their plane!

“One of the bonuses of being stationed at Fleetlands was that you could learn to fly a glider for free. A lot of us who worked on the airfields did it and it was almost part and parcel of the role. I enjoyed it enormously, especially when you hit a good thermal, and it was a good way to forget about all the terrible losses.”

Stan became a sergeant and spent 29 years in what he calls “the PBI – the poor bloody infantry”, taking the opportunity to travel the world to places including Ireland, Hanover and Hong Kong.

However, it was nearer to home, in Exeter, that he met his wife of 40 years, Marion, at a the Rougemont Hotel dance hall.

After the army Stan remained in Exeter and attended an engineering training course, following which he went to work for Hardinge metal cutting tools company, where he stayed for nearly 50 years.

When it comes to his spare time, Stan has always followed Portsmouth F.C. and still loves to watch the football matches when he can. “Although,” he confesses, “my favourite sport was probably drinking beer!”

“I was also quite and accomplished douser,” he adds, “and I picked up a few of the ley lines down in Devon. Marion and I also spent much of our time breeding Abyssinian cats.”

However, it is Stan’s poetry that tells the story of his life best.

“I started to realise that I could write poetry when I noted down things that had happened to me. When I joined the infantry, I used to jot down what I was doing every day, so it was easy to remember, and then I began to put my memories into verse.

“For example, I was unfortunate enough to lose my left leg, but one thing I’ve learned over the years is just to take life as it comes along. So I came to terms with it, and I wrote a poem called Munching Leg about one of the prosthetics I received.

“I have written about 60 poems altogether and I’ve published a book with some of them in. Others have been printed in the local newspaper, The Express & Echo.”

Stan is also keen to share his work with his fellow residents.

“I don’t write so many new ones now,” he says, “but I often give recitals for the others here. I did one recently for World Poetry Day in the lounge, and I’ll regularly read some over lunch for the people I sit with. I’ll even sing when they let me!

“I’m very comfortable living at Hill House and I especially like the building itself. It’s a very old 16^th century house and I love the fact it’s rooted in history. The garden is also beautiful, and I have made a few very good friends. As the saying goes, you can tell a man who loses by the company he chooses!”