Ging gang goolie, uncle Len...

I went to a funeral today, back in the town where I was born. I chatted with family I’d not seen for thirty years or more, talking of times happy and sad and I visited graves, listening to the wind and the toll of bells. Standing black amidst so many yet so alone, I felt as apart as ever I could remembering the people who once were but are now gone - Gran, Lucy and Charlie, Kate and Lena, Ian, little Ian, Mary and Linda, Granddad and now after ninety years, uncle Len.

In the town hall room after, surrounded by so many people I knew but hardly know, so sad to see the spaces of those that should have been but are no more, I remembered. Good to see those that remain though, good to reacquaint myself with old relationships. So much to make me smile, so much to make a tear drip down my cheek, as picking up the deep black earth to drop this one last time.

Milko, Len. Milko.

Uncle Len the driver who was there when Belsen was cleared. Uncle Len, card sharp. Uncle Len, gardener boy. Uncle Len, builder of doll’s houses. Uncle Len, milkman. Uncle Len, mayor. Uncle Len, honorary citizen. Uncle Len, scout master. Uncle Len, teller of tales and singer of songs. Uncle Len who bought me my first watch.

Back home, my last glass of 10 year malt old raised in toast, I wondered what did it mean?

And then it came to me. This tale he told to me on that boyhood milk round so long ago.

‘In deepest darkest Africa, every year after the rains, the "Great Grey Ghost Elephant" rose up from the mists and wandered through the land. When he came to a village, he would either go around or through it. The villagers believed that if he went around the village then the village would have a prosperous year, but if he went through it then there would be drought.

The elephant had gone through the village of "Wat-Cha" three years in a row, and the state of the village was very bad, it could not take another rampage. So, Ging-Ganga, the village leader and Ha-la-shay, the medicine man put together a plan to save the village from the ‘Great Grey Ghost’.

Ging-Ganga and his warriors were to frighten the elephant by standing in its path, shaking their shields and spears and Hay-la-shay and his followers were to cast magic spells, frightening the elephant by the sound of their shaking ju-ju sacks.

When the elephant arrived, the villagers gathered at the outskirts of the village and started shouting the name of their leaders, "Ging-Ganga" and "Ha-lay-shay". "Shally wally" was the sound made by the shaking of their magic ju-ju sacks. The villager’s plan worked well, and the elephant went around the village, making an "Oompah, oompah" sound, whilst villagers rejoiced and sang the "Ging Gang" song.'

It’s this song that reminds me of Len, the song that sometimes we sang on those cold, frosty mornings as we delivered the milk.

'Ging gang goolie goolie goolie goolie watcha, Ging gang goo, ging gang goo. Ging gang goolie goolie goolie goolie watcha, Ging gang goo, ging gang goo. Hayla, oh hayla shayla, hayla shayla, shayla, oh-ho, Hayla, oh hayla shayla, hayla shayla, shayla, oh. Shally wally, shally wally, shally wally, shally wally, Oompah, oompah, oompah, oompah.'

I sing the song for you Len.