- Contributed byÌý
- gmractiondesk
- People in story:Ìý
- Eric Coles
- Location of story:Ìý
- Isle of Mann and Manchester
- Background to story:Ìý
- Civilian
- Article ID:Ìý
- A4565702
- Contributed on:Ìý
- 27 July 2005
AN ISLE OF MANN SCHOOLBOY IN WARTIME.
By Eric Coles
Recorded by Pamela Brown
I was a schoolboy from 1939 to 1943 when I went to Manchester University.
I lived with my parents in Port Erin and journeyed each day to school in Douglas.
This was not quite so simple as it may seem as our whole area was surrounded by barbed wire with big access gates manned all the time. It was a Category 18B Aliens Camp. These were people of foreign extraction who were considered as a possible threat to the war effort. They mostly lived in the hotels, and we still stayed on our own homes within the compound
Quite honestly I accepted it as something that was happening and did not take a great deal of notice of them. I do know that there were some highly qualified people amongst them, may professionals who did a lot of interesting things while they were there.
My father was a special policeman and had quite a lot to do with them.
They always had good New Zealand lamb and enough to eat. In fact although we were supposed to be subjected to the same rationing as the mainland we seemed to be able to get most things.
I don’t remember the war impinging very much. We could see Liverpool burning after air raids. Blackout was extremely strict as of course the Germans could get their bearings if they spotted us from the air.
At one stage we saw buildings going up on a hill above Port Erin and there was a lot of speculation as to what they might be with the ariel that rotated. We later learned that it was one of the first — if not the first — Radar Station.
One ironic happening that I remember was when one very well known chap who lived in Douglas was so frightened of being bombed that he had a house built miles away from anywhere. The extraordinary thing was that the only bomb that ever fell on the island was dropped very near to his new house!
When I went to Manchester University in 1943 the normal 3 year course was crammed into 2 years and 3 months. There were few holidays. In addition to academic work we had to fire watch and help in the hospital. Of course we took a great interest in the course that the war was taking as we did not know how long it would last, and eventually we would probably have to take part in it.
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