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This s******e of a town has two types of inhabitant, the p***y inbred local white trash and the knuckle dragging squadie cannon fodder.
The lack of diversity in these two gene pools, mean that the local spunk buckets churn out spindly little ratboys and pigdog chavettes at an alarming rate.
Let us face facts, however: the Brook and the High Street were filled also with slums and brothels. Chatham in the 1860s to 1880s was a riotous and unlawful place that was policed only sporadically.
We are talking about low dives, iniquitous inns, tawdry taverns and pubs that your mother warned you about.
A lovely old chap who was a greengrocer near where I lived had a double life. Jack continues his 1970s recollections: “Of the three I drank in most regularly, the Old George in Medway Street, the Prince of Wales in Railway Street and the Cabin, in the cellar of what is now Churchills, the Cabin was easily the roughest.
It was, shall we say, a meeting point for locals, Navy and Army.
Before readers suggest I am being insulting and unfair, please note: the Brook in Chatham — around which the Medway towns’ vice trade centred — was in many ways a fine place to grow up.
Some of the houses were large, if humble, and many correspondents attest that their parents and grandparents said life was tough but respectable.