大象传媒

I moved to Markethill in 1937 one year before the breakout of WW2. My father was Station Sergent in Markethill until 1948 so I spent my war years growing up there. I remember the American soldiers arriving at Gosford Castle by train where they set up a camp for prisoners of War.
During the blitz when the German aircraft had dropped their bombs on Belfast they always tended to make for the Republic as they knew if they got into difficulties they would be safe once across the border.
This is where I first came across German prisoners of War. The two I remember most had been captured and were held at Markethill police barracks and I had the job of taking them their food on a tray at times. What I do remember is that they were very talanted artists and one drew a charcoal charicture of my father but with moving over the years it has been lost. They were treated very well but gave me the impression that they were in no hurry to get back to fight again. They were held in big wire enclosure. By the end of the war there was quite a number of prisoners and they had even built their own chapel on the site of the enclosure.

The soldiers camped at Gosford and paraded to church every Sunday to Mullabrach Church of Ireland, maybe 100 or so in number.
During the blackout I did not seem to be as scared as my sisters, looking back I don't know why. When the siren had to be blown for a air-raid the police got a phone call and they had to go the factory across the road to blow their siren which was one long wail. Then when the all clear came they had to go and blow the siren again which was intermittment. I usually went with the policeman who had this role. At night my mother made us put our clothes in a role secured with a safety pin so that if a call came we would be ready to move quickly.
My mother was very scared because the police station was white and we lived by the factory which had a tall chimney and she believed that the Germans would see it and drop a bomb on us.

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