Based on notes from In my Wainwrights Shoes
 
 Guilty (but Innocent). Bipolar 1 Conspiracies
Webbook By Chris Wainwright,

1. Flying Start

More than a century ago my grandfather Albert Wainwright took out a hefty mortgage to expand his shoe repair business. People said he'd taken on too much with large premises near Princes Risborough railway station and three other shops. As a member of the family nothing went on my feet that wasn’t from Wainwrights. As I got older I worked on and off in the business for much of my life. Born into a business owning family I’d always thought myself lucky until I found out I'd also inherited its genetic bipolar disorder illness. I’d left my career as a solicitor thinking the work had made me badly depressed but I was unaware that I was in the middle of my third and final serious depression. In truth my doctors kept my illness a secret from me for over 14 years.

As a 13 year old Saturday boy I remember enjoying working in our Princes Risborough shop. I asked dad if I could join the company when I left school, “Yes boy" he replied, "if you can’t find anything better”. The innuendo was obvious and whenever I brought the subject up again my parents reminded me that the shops 'wouldn’t be enough’. The phrase became well known in the family but it never make sense to me. I found out later from mum that dad had fancied himself as a solicitor. Apparently he'd been impressed by an Aylesbury solicitor, Tony Durrant, coming in the shop wearing a sombrero. Dad decided that the law had to be fun. In those days however solicitors weren't allowed to advertise for work (it was considered unbecoming) but if for any reason they struck up conversation with a stranger and gave their details it was allowed! I liked being on the shop floor selling it came naturally to me - it was what dad did and what the business was about. I listened to argument upon argument between father and his brothers about retailing and salesmanship. I don't think there was any aspect of business they didn't quarrel about. One of my favourite topics was about people who 'couldn't sell a glass of water to a man dying from thirst'. There was less profit in repairing than selling new stock and dad emphasised that was where the money was. There are people who don't like face to face selling but I could never understand why. We had first class products guaranteed to last which we could sell with complete confidence.
 
I enjoyed my time at Princes Risborough Primary School very much. It was fifteen years after the end of world war 2 and playtime often involved mock battles and fighting. We were also influenced by cowboys and indians, the American civil war and the US prohibition era gangsters. I read ‘All Quiet On the Western Front’ by Erich Remarque with fascination. I was amazed by the dreadful conditions and carnage the soldiers had to endure. By the final page I’d forgotten the characters were German but noted they also had God on their side! Boys seemed naturally to be attracted by fighting
 
My cousin Paul and I lived close by. With our fair hair and similar features we were regularly mistaken by the teachers for one another at school. My elder by two years we played rugby together for the AGS 1st XV and hung out a lot together. Up to my mid teens I spent most of my school holidays with him and our group of friends. As one of the youngest I learnt to fit in with the older lads using jokes and strong language. After much pestering I had my first air rifle at fourteen and practiced in my garden smoking and drinking my uncles’ homemade wine when our parents were out (I'll write a follow up book with more details about shooting experience and saftey). We had a close shave one day at the Windsor Playing Fields, Horsenden where we played cricket. One of the gang turned up with a full-size fibreglass bow and aluminium arrows. As the strongest Paul loosed an arrow straight up in the air. After a long wait it landed right between our heads. We were lucky that day and often think of it when I see bbq meat on a stick!

At Aylesbury Grammar School I was involved in most activities and was lucky enough to be made head of house and school. Confident, outgoing and a 'peoples' person I was mature for my years but wasn't popular with some of my old primary school pals who went to the local secondary. I met one while filling up at the garage. He looked at me and said, “Oh yeah you’re the kid who went to that posh school” and walked off. I was quite surprised but he can take it from me that education isn’t the whole story! We all need that bit of good luck! My grandfather was a big influence. He had some awful luck in 1942 when Fortress Singapore fell during WW2 and he was taken prisoner and held in Changi Jail by the Japanese. I was apparently the only one he shared his memories with but I never learnt why after 25 years he still had manacle marks impressed on both wrists. He quizzed me on the nine ways you could be given out at cricket and always reminded me that;- "When that one Great Umpire in the sky comes to mark against your name it's not what you won or lost but how you played the game". Grandad was a highly accomplished man and I'll write about him some more in my follow-up. One of his constant themes was men and moral rectitude. Following in dads footsteps my preferred career was going to involve selling not that it suited him! He finished school at 14 and missed his last day because Albert needed him in the repair shop. Like many of his contemporaries Dad reasoned that with a better education he’d have done much better. He didn’t want the same thing happening to me and regularly told me, “do as I say boy and you won’t go far wrong”.

I'd developed a passion for speaking French thanks to our primary school teacher Mrs Smith who was French. She taught the language with enthusiasm which made a good start. From about 13 I began exchanging with the eldest son of a Normandy farming couple. I stayed many times with them at Placy. Although I say it myself I got to speak the language well. I began thinking about combining the language with a sales business of my own. From the start Pascal and I got on well and we often visited each other. Like most schoolboys we learnt all our respective swear words and corrected one anothers mistakes meticulously. By the time we reached 17 we were both reasonably fluent. If you really want to speak another language go and stay with a family. Pascal worked in the USA for a while and was pretty much bilingual. 

 

After leaving Aylesbury Grammar School I had a gap year in the Army as an Infantry Second Lieutenant on an undergraduates Short Service Limited Commission. The three day officer selection course at Westbury was followed by an unforgettable three week training course at Sandhurst. I loved it and would do it all again if I could. I believe the SSLC holds the record for the shortest officer commission course ever but questions were asked by the regulars whether it was long enough! The commission was designed to attract young men who had a definite university place and were considering making army life a career. The Army were looking for more officers with degrees. If all went well you might be offered full pay during your degree course followed by a 5 year regular service commission. There’s a limit to what you can learn in a few weeks at RMAS but I enjoyed every moment of it. I was as fit as a fiddle - it was a fantastic experience! I’m forever indebted to headmaster K D Smith for suggesting I applied.
 
Dad wasn’t an Army fan. After the war he was conscripted into the Royal Army Ordinance Corp but very rarely spoke of it. For one thing he liked to be in control and complained that everything was laid out on a plate. He’d been brought up by his father to work using his initiative and commonsense. Along with my uncles they didn’t play sport believing it was something reserved for children. The RAOC were known affectionately as 'The Rag And Oil Company'. Grandad quipped that dad might've been in charge of pencils. I was proud that they both attended my passing out dinner at RMAS. Grandad was on terrific form. He sat opposite a retired RA gunner officer. They’d both seen action and teased one another as members of different units do. I think in the end they called it a draw!

Unfortunately I had some bad luck just before leaving my Yorkshire Regiment. I snapped my anterior cruciate knee ligament in a game of football. The MO suggested I run it off around the barracks but I declined his offer and managed to carry out my jobs as Duty Officer the next day. I filled in an accident report and blamed the injury on myself. Inoperable in those days the snapped ligament finished serious sport. Rugby was out, I couldn't bowl properly at cricket and with anything else the leg was only stable enough to use as a prop while I played my shot off the good one. I didn’t let the knee injury get me down although it was a bitter blow. Dad asked what my life plans were and I said I wanted to run my own company after my degree and take the solicitors exams so I had the law as a back up. I'd been accepted by Leicester university and went there full of confidence thinking I’d be able to continue  with what had so far been an enjoyable life.
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