The mere mention of rural England conjures up visions of green fields, woodlands, moorlands and picturesque villages with quaint thatched cottages and welcoming inns.

To most of us, there is nothing better than driving through the winding lanes of the English countryside, or walking along the many footpaths that wander through wood and farmland, taking in the wonderful scenery that this beautiful country of ours has to offer. But, as is the case in most walks of life, the rural scene has undergone enormous change, unfortunately not all for the better. Progress has been achieved at considerable loss, depriving the village communities throughout the length and breadth of the country not only of many thousands of jobs, but also the very backbone of rural life - its people forced to leave the area by the acute lack of employment, and the spiralling cost of housing.

But for many, the demise of a once very familiar figure throughout rural England is by far the greatest loss of them all. Unlike the besom broom maker and the wheelwright who still demonstrate their skills at agricultural shows up and down the country, the Council Roadman is, alas, extinct.

The Council Roadman played a crucial part in the day to day affairs of village life. Quite apart from his everyday job as custodian of the highways and all that entailed, there were numerous other positions that he held - Special Constable, fire-watcher, home guard, air-raid warden, fireman, assistant sexton and grave-digger, and part-time gardener - to mention just a few.

The calling of Council Roadman was one of the most important jobs in village life, trusted and respected by practically everyone in the community. A veritable mine of information, he was a man who knew just about everything that went on in the village. A man of countless tales and anecdotes willingly passed on to anyone who would care to listen.

Who better then, to sit next to on the pub settle by the warmth of a real fire, than an authentic Council Roadman, his larynx well lubricated by a couple of pints of Old and Mild. Long since retired of course, and the passage of time has taken its toll, but age is no barrier when it comes to retracing his steps back in time to the carefree days of long ago.

So pull up your favourite chair - imagine it’s the settle by the fireside in the public bar of the Rose and Crown on Hawridge Common - as it used to be years ago. Let’s travel together, back in time to those halcyon days of yesteryear, and enjoy the stories of the Bucks County Council Roadmen…