大象传媒

Early in 1940, conscription was extended to include 19-27 years old, and this meant that all my friends suddenly left the area, to join the Forces. Most of them went into the Air Force, going to Blackpool for there training, and I went there for a week, and watched them marching along the promenade. They lived in the large hotels, on the sea front. They enjoyed it very much, and nearly all went as air crew. Most of them were killed, and I remembered with sadness, the evenings we spent playing cards for match sticks, the picnics on the beach, and the hesitant steps of the 鈥済ang鈥�, when I tried to teach them ball room dancing.
We were issued with identity cards, and our world changed completely. The buses were unlit with only one headlight, and this was covered by paper, with a slit 2鈥� wide. The railway carriage had dimmed lights, and the names of the stations were removed. When we arrived at a station, a member of the staff called out, so that the passengers would know where they were. At the end of the year, rationing was introduced. Butter, (4 ounces), sugar (12 ounces), uncooked bacon/ham 4 (ounces), cooked bacon/ham (3 and a half ounces). Each family had to register with the shopkeepers, so they could obtain supplies. In those days, if one saw a queue, one joined it straight away, and then asked what we were queuing for. Fancy standing for half an hour, for two bananas or a couple of eggs.
Now the first troops forming the B.E.F. (British Expeditionary Force) of over 150,000 men landed in France and we waited to hear of the first casualties.
The following months, saw many forms of training, the territorials were called up, the men joined the Home Guard, and we saw men armed with picks and shovels, cutlasses from museums, and even spears, until weapons could be distributed. Other men and women were trained in the A.R.P. and we learnt to distinguish foreign aircraft, forms of first aid and how to put out incendiaries with our shovels and buckets of sand, which were in our houses. There was also the stirrup pumps, with which we were supposed to fight the fires. Mother and I joined, and went on duty in shifts. We went during the night, as we were working. We played cards and whiled away the long hours trying to forecast what would happen to us. We had Air-raid Wardens, who went round the streets, seeing if all the windows were blacked out. We had to cover them with black material, so that no light showed, which would give aircraft overhead, an indication that there was a town below. It was also the duty of the wardens to get people off the street, and into the shelters when the sirens sounded. They were issued with whistles, to attract the people鈥檚 attention.
To get to our A.R.P. station, which was an underground room, in an undertakers, we had to go through the rooms where the coffins were made, and one morning (about 2.a.m. )when going on duty, I opened the door and saw a coffin with my surname chalked on the side. (My name was 鈥淏rookes鈥� in those days.) Well I thought, perhaps this was an omen and they measured you up, before you went out. That night I was very cautious.
I then graduated to the Light Rescue Team, who could crawl in the rubble after a bomb had fallen, and look for survivors. The first time I did this, was when a row of houses had been hit, and I saw an arm in the debris. I shouted 鈥淚鈥檝e found someone鈥� and took hold of the arm......... that鈥檚 all there was, and I was very ill for some time. I think I grew up very quickly that night and the full impact of war hit me.
As a result of the war, the South Coast was declared a 鈥淧rotected Area鈥� which meant that no one living outside the area, could visit, and when anyone arrived at the station, they had to produce documents which proved they lived in Hastings or the surrounding district, or had legitimate business there. This of course meant that our holiday trade disappeared, and our livelihood. We did take in an occasional visitor to the area, one was Methodist Minister, who ate us out of house and home, and paid very little. He was not my idea of a Christian. The other, was a young lady, with a good story, who had some obscure job, and ended up, not returning home one night. We then had a visit from the police, as she had robbed her employer, and incidentally, us, of money from the side-board drawers, where Grandma kept her bills and money for any incidentals which cropped up. The police also took her belongings, and she went to prison. I feel that our family were often taken in by trying to help people. In fact I still have the same tendency. Over the years, I have saved innumerable whales, seals, birds, badgers, otters, bears, and other animals through the wildlife and other animal caring associations. I do sometimes have reservations, as some of the notepaper used, is of the highest quality, and some are even heavily embossed. However, it doesn鈥檛 stop me giving.
One of the saddest events, was one Sunday night in May 1942 later on in the war, when raiders dropped bombs, and fired cannon shells. The vicarage, next to Emmanuel Church, was hit and the daughter of the vicar, who was nearly three years old was killed. It took many hours of digging into the night, to recover the body, which was still in the cot, and she looked like a little doll.
As there was no opportunity to take exams, I went down to the grocery store in the middle of town, named 鈥淗ome & Colonial鈥�
and immediately was taken on as an assistant. The wage was then nine shillings and sixpence per week, (forty seven and a half pence.) I was expected to fill up 2 lbs bags of sugar, from a huge sack weighing a hundredweight, the bags were made of a very tough blue paper. The quickest method was to fill up about a dozen bags to a certain level, and then weigh them, and top them up or take some out, as necessary. This way. I managed to fill many more than the others, and thus ensured that I was given the job when we needed more sugar. I liked this task, as I was on my own, and free from supervision.

I used to sit up on the third floor and gaze down on the passing people below. In the summer it was especially busy with an influx of visitors and I tried to guess what they work they did at home. As I always have had a vivid imagination, I used to weave stories about them, and dreamed about the time when I would be writing my books and selling them very successfully.
Another task was to reduce large blocks of butter into small half pounds or pounds. This was done by carving out an amount of butter, with two wooden pats (rather like miniature oars) and after weighing, shape it into the familiar oblong and wrap. A very tedious job, no doubt in these days executed by one machine, which will do all functions in one operation. To handle the butter, one had to wet the pats, and one day I was engaged in this, when an inspector arrived and because I was so nervous, I put rather too much water on the pats, and when I went to pat the block into shape, it slipped out and flew up to the ceiling. The inspector came and talked to me, and hurriedly I answered his questions. Luckily, the butter remained there, until he was out of sight, and I escaped a reprimand.
We had great fun in the shop, chasing each other round the blocks of tinned fruit etc. in the basement. One of our escape routes, when the manager descended, was to jump into the service lift and get one of the others to pull the rope and restore us to the upper floor. I don鈥檛 think that it would work today, as with my weight, there would not be enough staff to man the ropes. One of the staff was the errand boy, in those days young boys, with large wheeled bicycles, made small deliveries to customers. He was a very small boy, and he was rather lazy. He was required to fill the fixtures, and every time, we would tease him and say how much quicker the other boy was, which made him angry, and voila ! ....the shelves were full. He never ever realised, how he was being manipulated.
I went out with one of the assistants, tall dark and handsome. He was called up, and I pined for him and tried to go and see him every week-end. I also found out, that he was not pining to the same extent that I was, and that was that.

After a few weeks, when I was still trying to sort out my life, still no exam dates for the civil service. I decided that my career was not behind a counter. I then applied to the Royal Army Pay Corps, who were in a large hotel on the sea front and got a job, in the 鈥渁llotment鈥� section. There were two functions in the department. The first was to decide who should get the allotment allocated by the soldier, and then inform the recipient. Sounds easy......of course, if each man had one dependent. In reality, we had angry letters from mothers, who thought they should have priority as they had looked after their son for many years, apart from that, the wife was no good, and in many cases was 鈥榩laying around.鈥� In other cases, the allocation was to the legal wife and not to the girl friend, who was the mother of the man鈥檚 son. In some cases, a woman thought she was the legal and only wife, and then we had a letter from someone claiming to be the real wife. Solomon would have had a job to sort out the many problems. It was certainly difficult to write letters denying their claims.
One day, we were immersed in our work and the door flew open. A lady sailed in, brandishing an umbrella, and promptly hit one of us over the head. Needless to say, she turned out to be an unsuccessful claimant. We had a legal department, who gave a ruling on all cases, which were not straightforward.
I was moved to another section, and was put in charge. This department received pages of pay slips, from units of the R.A.P.C. (Royal Army Pay Corps) and others. Each one was perforated, and we had to separate each payment and put them in alphabetical order of the surnames. We had pigeon holes, for each letter, then another set, breaking each letter into sub-divisions, and this meant that we could sort thousands. One particular day, we had reached 5,000 slips (about 2鈥� by five inches wide.) which I put into an envelope. I gave them to the trainee, telling her to see that they were to be posted. About an hour later, the girl from the account binders rang, asking for the slips. On making further enquiries, I discovered the trainee had gone to the local post box, taken the slips out and posted them. The man from the G.P.O. did not appreciate rescuing the extra mail, and of course we had to re-sort them. This taught me to think what I was saying, when giving instructions and to also be very specific.
It was about this time, that the school children were evacuated to Somerset. It was a terrible time, children with labels attached
standing on the station, saying good-bye to their parents, and crying. The only tie with home was their teachers, and let鈥檚 face it, not every child got on with their teachers. The older people were also sent to Frome, in Somerset, including my grandma. She was rather disgusted, as on their arrival, they were 鈥渉erded鈥�, to use her expression, into a village hall, and the children chosen by the local people, to take home with them. Grandma was billeted with a nice couple, but within two weeks, she turned up on the doorstep, having requested to be returned to Hastings. As she said, every night, the wireless reported, 鈥淏ombs fell on the South East鈥� and she was so worried, that she felt it was better to live with us or die together. It was a peculiar existence, a town, with no old people and no children. It was almost like being in limbo, and one longed to see children playing in their playgrounds once again.
Apart from this evacuation within the U.K., many children were sent to North America, S. Africa, New Zealand and Australia. One of the ships on the way to America was sunk, with the loss of over 70 children.
February 1940
Of course, we had to get used to rations, and we each had our own identity card and ration book. Four ounces of butter, twelve ounces of sugar, four ounces of bacon, and the next month meat was added.
When meat rationing was introduced, offal, rabbit , poultry, fish, brawn, sausages, pies or paste were not on coupons, so in many cases, it was who you knew, and the butcher became a very popular man. There was also the 鈥渂lack market鈥�, where at a price, almost anything could be obtained.
The next thing was the news that the office was being re-located in the Minories in London, and we had the option of moving or transferring to the R.A.S.C. (Royal Army Service Corps) Record, which was on the outskirts of Hastings, just near my old school.
As my money was needed at home, I decided that I should stay in Hastings.
The R.A.S.C Records were located in Ore Place, which was an old building of many floors and rooms. We held all the documents of the men, enlistment papers, wills, training certificates, records of postings, rank advancements etc. and it was important that everything was filed correctly. We made a card out for each man, and filed it behind the name of the unit. Each time he was moved, or was upgraded it was recorded on the card, quoting the appropriate Part Two Orders, which was issued by each unit, every day.
Two of the people who I worked with during that period, who I remember well, was a Major, who spent every night thinking of new ways to work the system, half of which did not work. He was very aggressive and one did not argue with him.
The other man, was a bombastic short fat man, who was in charge of the air raid precautions. He was always telling us how it should be done. One morning after an air-raid siren had sounded, he was on the fourth floor, and looking out the window, saw a doodle bug approaching. This was really a bomb with wings, which was launched, indiscriminately, and flew fairly low, it鈥檚 engine sounding like a motor bike. He was so panic stricken that he tripped and sprained his ankle. We were not very sympathetic.
We were also required to man the fire pumps. This was quite fun, unless the girl in charge of the pumps, turned up the pressure, and then the hosepipe took on a mind of its own, snaking all over the place, and drenching the laughing spectators.
On a wider front, the Germans invaded Denmark and Norway, and later crossed the frontiers of Belgium and France. Almost before we could absorb these facts, the Dutch were ordered to stop fighting and Belgium surrendered. It was like watching flood waters, which were engulfing whole areas of Europe. One of the events which did help us, was the emergence of Winston Churchill, when he took over from Neville Chamberlain. He said all the things we wanted to say, he made us believe that we could win, and we were uplifted by his speeches. We all felt we must work harder to produce the planes, tanks, and ammunition, and that we should 鈥淒ig for Victory鈥� in our gardens.
June 1940
One of the last operations on the mainland of Europe, was the evacuation from Dunkirk. Small fishing boats, yachts, pleasure craft of all types, set sail from ports around the coast, and went to Dunkirk, where the troops were retreating. We saw men wading into the sea, being hauled aboard the boats, and then returning to the various seaports. We saw many of the fishing fleet coming back to Hastings, and small steamers tying up at the end of the pier. The men were tired, and dirty, but so relieved to be home. It was incredible that over 300,000 troops were saved, and many lived to return to Europe to fight again.
At the office, we had a card for every man in the R.A.S.C. and so we put all the cards of the men in Europe, in alphabetical order, and then as the lists came from the War Office of the men who had landed, we picked out the names of the soldiers who had landed in the U.K. who were R.A.S.C. personnel, and sent official notifications to the next of kin.

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