I never learned sign language. I suppose it was like admitting our family was some how different. Mam and Dad didn't make any effort to teach us either. I think they felt it was like giving someone a walking stick who didn't have any trouble walking. The only signs I knew were the ones for: "Good morning; good evening; bad; film; sausages; butter and the number six. In the alphabet I only knew the vowels and the letter "G". The vowels were easy. I didn't know what vowels were at the time all I knew was if you put your right index finger on each finger of your left hand starting with the thumb, you had signed, "A, E, I, 0, U", and these letters were the vowels, what ever they were?

The letter "G" was much more interesting. You put the right fist on top of the left fist that was the letter "G" but if you repeated the sign it meant "Bugger".

I was told by one of the question setters on, I think it was, 'Winner Takes All', that deaf people watched the show because the questions were written on an illuminated board. They knew this because deaf people had written in to ask if it was possible to flash light behind the correct answer. Realising they had deaf viewers they thought it would be a nice idea to set a question about sign language. Unfortunately the question was:
"What is the sign for the letter G?", which is, as you now know, also the sign for "bugger".

The hand sign all the kids in the hearing world knew then wasn't a deaf sign. It was a made up 'W', for Wall's ice cream. You made the thumb and first finger of each hand into a 'V' sign and put your thumbs together to form a 'W'.

We would do this to passing Wall's delivery vans. Because the drivers had to keep one hand on the steering wheel they'd reply with one hand, using the first two fingers. This was half the 'W' sign.

Thus I learned the attitude and the main hand sign in the hearing world. Oh yes! Lets not forget the most important sign for kids. "I want to go to the toilet." It isn't the mime toilet chain pulling you might think. This sign language started before people had chains to pull. For instance the mime for "German" is, first finger stuck up on top of your head, like a spiked helmet, i.e. a picklehaube.

The sign for toilet is the clenched fist against the stomach in a winding motion. This meant "I want to go to the toilet." Not to be confused with the same action with the flat hand which meant, "Sorry." Very clever the similarity, the "I want to go to the toilet." sign could quickly be changed to "Sorry." In other words "Sorry ... too late I've shit myself."

Because of my lack of sign language, Dad would mime to me, embellishing his actions with sounds like, "Ergogert." or cod English. He'd use the sound "Wha" like an actor pretending to be French would make meaningless noises that sounded French. Dad would do the same with English. Often miming two people having a conversation.

He would mime incidents at work.
With his chest stuck out he would stand at his fullest height wagging his finger and shout "Wah, wah, wah?" This would be some pompous boss telling him off. Bosses were always taller because they got more food.
Then he would shorten his height, pull his forelock and change his position to look up at the boss. He was now himself, listening and nodding subserviently in agreement with the boss, or so it appeared, but he was also miming that he was leaning on a sweeping brush at the time. Thus indicating he didn't really give a toss and this guy could talk as long as he liked. While he talked, no work was being done. Who was the fool? Certainly not Dad!
He'd then change sides again increased his height and become the boss again, getting more and more angry. The boss started to look more like Hitler at a Nuremberg rally with the sound turned off. The arms would fly about, the clenched fists banging on an invisible lectern. We'd laugh at the silly man.
Suddenly he would change sides, become shorter. He was himself again, calmly leaning on his invisible sweeping brush, nodding. Then he'd be the boss again.
It was like watching Jeckle and Hyde. Back and forth one to the other. Then the boss would grab his own hair with both hands and walk off fuming.
He'd change to Dad, nodding and still leaning on the mime brush, watching the boss walking away. He'd have a dramatic pause as if he was thinking about the situation. Then he'd straighten up to his full height and gripping the invisible brush he'd slowly mime sweeping the floor. It was a mini-epic.
He was now walking off into the sunset, the hero, he'd won. I didn't know what the argument was about but I got the gist. It wasn't always easy getting the gist. He would look at me with a puzzled expression on his face, shrug his shoulders and with his palms upwards would say:
"Wah, wah, Whif?" This could mean: "It looks like rain." 'What the hell are you talking about?" or maybe "You are a great disappointment to me Wilf."

You see various interpretations could be put on what was being expressed. You may think this was peculiar to my Dad but it's quite common. When interpreting the Bible, for example, or looking at contemporary 'Quack Art' you can take offence or be pleased with the same thing. "Would I lie to you gorgeous?"

If you see any old Edgar Lustgarten crime films there's always a scene in it that reminds me of Dad. It's the, 'Looking for the suspect' sequence where you can't hear the voices. Dramatic 'Looking for the suspect' music is playing over the scene.
The detective mouths something to a guy.
The guy shakes his head.
The next scene, same thing, the woman shakes her head.
Various people are shown all being questioned and all shaking their heads. This signifies a long painstaking search was made.
Just when you're getting bored with all this, a chap nods his head and points up the street. The detective's found his man.
Dad could have played all the parts ... including the woman.

In 1942 I won first prize in a war baby competition. I think it was because I was shaped like a bomb. At that time I could only communicate with my deaf parents when they were looking at me. Crying was useless if they weren't looking my way. Only visual signals, vibration or smell would attract their attention. Combining two of these methods, namely in a reverberating fart, would have been extremely useful. Unfortunately, this ability came to me later in life when it was no longer generally considered an asset. Apart, that is, from allowing me to do Dad's old trick. He would point a finger at you and indicate he wanted you to pull it. When you pulled it he would instantly let forth a loud fart. It was a great mystery to us as to how this should be, since no amount of pulling our own fingers produced the same effect.

Mam and Dad didn't use the word fart; they mouthed the word "Trump". I think the word originated from a bum note played on a trumpet. The hand sign for "Trump" was right fist held horizontally then quickly dropped as if knocking on a door, at the same time mouthing "Trump"... Try it, it's very graphic.

Joke:
A little boy was hiding under a table on which his parents were playing whist.
His mother asked, "What's trumps?"
A little voice from under the table squeaked "Poops."

I had to rely mainly on smell to communicate. Dad had yet to ruin his sense of smell smoking Woodbines, so it worked some of the time. I sometime wonder if Dad deliberately called me Whif, meaning smelly, not Wilf.
Did Mam call me Whiferd, a euphemism for fart "The smell that can be heard?"

A lady, who shall remain nameless, to conceal the noise of her flatulence, would cough loudly at the same time. Folk soon realised that her coughs were always followed by a strong smell. It could have been thought she had the worst case of coughing halitosis known to man. Whether she farted or not, every time she coughed people automatically moved away.

Graffiti in a penny toilet: "Here I am broken hearted paid a penny and only farted."