大象传媒

This story has been submitted to the People's War website by Kate McKennan for GMR Action Desk on behalf of Mr Evan Lloyd, with his permission. The author is fully aware of the Terms and Conditions
Evan Lloyd - known as George in the Family - worked in the engineering works at Crewe. In the war this became an armaments factory. George was an inspector of the big gun barrels. He had to check that the tank gun barrels had been properly bored out by then lathes. He had a reputation as a stickler for precision. "If those barrels aren't just right the shell will jam and we'll have blown up our own lads" he would say.
But George had a gentler side too, he played the cello in the North Staffs Orchestra - hoping to go professional one day!
Along came the war and everyone had to do their part including men like George - a bit too old to go to the front and too valuable at home. A reserved occupation it was called. So, like millions of others, he put aside his modest hopes in favour of protecting all that he knew was 'British'
The work was hard, filthy and unrelenting. The men laboured seven days a week. George, that was my dad, was also a fire warden and a red cross worker after his shifts.
After a few years 'Jerry' twigged that Crewe made armaments. At night they followed the gleam of the railway lines until it led them to the factories. Dad was working shifts and one night he was on duty working a late shift, 'Jerry' came over. He gave Crewe a right pasting that time. Most of the bombs missed their marks (factories were painted with camouflage) This night one bomb was close enough to shake the ground. It was enough to shake one of the massive cranes which carried heavy rulers, yards long and and inches thick made of solid cast iron. The ruler came loose from its chains and fell on to my dad's cello playing hands and crushed all his fingers. The pain must have been terible.
My mother remebered that they had brought him home in an ambulance, that he cried, although not because of the pain in his fingers, but for the knowledge that he would never go professional now. He was tied to the factory for ever. Even after the war there could be no escape into music. He did play again, but never in public and only occaisionally could he have the solace that playing well brings.

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