Update on the gas-mask bag

My previous blog was about my old gas-mask bag which was lost long ago. No, it hasn't turned up, but my friend John O'Sullivan delved into his metaphorical shed to dust off the following memories.
"Ah, that gas mask bag! Complete with jammed-in tobacco tins full of ledgers, split-shot, spinners, and hooks to nylon (till I learnt to tie a size 18 spade-end myself). A cheap brass reel (till came the coveted Intrepid Monarch: so solid, despite the occasional crisp and oily tangle of line round the spindle). Floats poked into a separate canvas pocket in the bag: no float-tubes then, so quills would snap - you could glue them, but they were never the same. Crow for the shy little roach; huge porcupines for casting out miles – no bites, and you wouldn’t have been able to hit them if there were. Pocket-money Avon floats totally wrong for the local lakes and streams (and probably even for the Avon). And somewhere in the middle, your favourite quill, red, orange or yellow-tipped. So brilliant, you could still see it when you shut your eyes that night."


Thanks JOS. Lots of "keepers" there for future articles. My first float was an Avon too. I wish I had it now.

My enquiry to the Imperial War Museum drew a blank, except that they referred me to a national archive which I must visit if I ever return to London. I think the holes in the bottom of the bags are called grommets.