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The Second World War

As seen through the eyes of a Greenock schoolboy

The following is an account of my experiences and memory of the war years; the aspects that interested or affected me, and what I thought at the time.

Tom Robertson 2005

PREPARATION FOR WAR

It was 1938, I was eight years of age and my family were about to move house from Old Inverkip Road to number 19 Bawhirley Road on the other side of Greenock. That was when I first heard adults discussing the possibility of another war with Germany. I was aware that there had been 鈥淭he Great War- the war to end all wars", and that it had happened many years before I had been born; in fact a mere twelve years earlier. To me it was of no more than passing interest. I heard about Mr Chamberlain, which was confusing to me as I had read stories which referred to a Lord Chamberlain. I concluded that all Prime Ministers were called Mr Chamberlain. My next recollection was being taken to Greenock High School in Dunlop Street to be issued with a gasmask which came in a brown cardboard box. All of the population were supplied with gas masks, resulting from the memory of devastating gas attacks towards the end of the last war. Soon after the issue of the masks we had to return to the distribution centres to have an additional filter taped on; presumably as protection from a gas not initially taken into account. Masks were to be carried at all times, but I am sure many folks did not do so. Schoolchildren had no option and we all carried ours. The cardboard boxes had a string attached so that they could be carried over the shoulder. Inevitably shops supplied better and more sophisticated containers for the boxes, and the more expensive and elaborate ones became a status symbol at school.

Most iron railings at the front of houses and other buildings were being burned off and taken away for use in the manufacture of war materials. Sixty six years later, the empty sockets in the stone walls can be seen in many properties. There were some exceptions; for example, the ornate gates and entrance to Greenock Cemetery.

THE BEGINNING
Great Britain and Germany declared war on 3rd September 1939 but it was of little concern to a nine year old who had more important matters to occupy his mind. Four of my Uncles were conscripted into the Army at the start of the war, and from time to time they would turn up at our house for an overnight stay, either embarking from Greenock on troopships, no doubt bound for France; or coming home on leave, heading back to Argyll. I saw a newspaper photograph showing my Uncle Nicol McCallum, a pipe major, entertaining a group of French civilians. My father gave Uncle Dougie a shilling coin which he had carried through the First World War as a lucky charm. Father had been wounded in France but came home alive, and for that you had to be lucky. Uncles Duncan and John McCallum were also in the Army. All four come back safe and sound, although Duncan had spent the latter part of the conflict as a prisoner of war, at first in Italy and then in Germany.

CHURCHILL

Sometime later I became aware of Winston Churchill, Britain's wartime leader and hero. I listened to his inspiring oratory as we all gathered round the wireless - "I have nothing to offer but blood, toil, tears and sweat"; - "Victory at all costs - without victory there is no survival"; - "We shall fight them on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender"; - "Let us therefore brace ourselves to our duties, and so bear ourselves that, if the British Empire and its Commonwealth last for a thousand years, men will still say "This was their finest hour"." It is doubtful if more powerful and determining oratory had ever been heard. At the time, I could only make a young boys interpretation of the forceful message, and it just confirmed what I already knew - Biggles always wins!

AIR RAID SHELTERS

Soon after the declaration of war there was great activity in the town complying with air raid precautions. Brick built shelters with concrete roofs sprang up, and particularly in school playgrounds. Tenement 'close' entrances were re-enforced with steel scaffolding and roof supports. Everyone was encouraged to find the safest part of their homes in which to shelter in the event of an air raid - and, of course, we had Anderson shelters. These were constructed of corrugated iron sheets curved over at the top and bolted together. They were generally built by house owners at the foot of the garden and the best ones belonged to those who dug deepest into the earth. A mound of soil and turf was then loaded on top. Each shelter could accommodate about ten or twelve people. An entrance way had also to be dug out, usually with a wooden door and duck board floor. All of this was pretty interesting to watch. Anderson shelters had to be pumped out frequently, particularly in Greenock's wet conditions. For whatever reason, we didn't have one of our own and we shared with our next door neighbours. Stirrup Pumps were provided to deal with fires caused by incendiary bombs. I had a "wee shot" with ours but it was too big for me.

STICKY PAPER, SANDBAGS AND SCHOOL

Great quantities of brown sticky paper were fixed to the inside of most windows in order to reduce the danger from flying glass. This also became a subject for one-upmanship and many elaborate paper designs were created. Blackout blinds were essential and any chink of light visible from outside could result in a knock at the door from a policeman or air raid warden. Cars and other vehicles had masks fitted over the headlights so that only a narrow downwards slit of light could be seen. The edges of mudguards and running boards were painted white. Sandbags were piled up outside many buildings, particularly schools, hospitals, public buildings, etc. At my school there was a large flat canopy over the entrance to the Music Department. Hundreds of sandbags were piled onto it to protect the windows above. As it happened, the weight of sand was more than the roof could take, and the whole structure suddenly collapsed onto the playground area. Fortunately, no-one was injured.

All such projects were approached with great enthusiasm. We collected sacks of waste paper and bought them to school in such quantities that there was not enough storage space. The gymnasium dressing rooms were four to five feet deep in paper awaiting collection as part of the war effort. In the meantime we took the opportunity to dig out trenches in the heap of paper and hurled "bombs" at the boys taking similar refuge at the other side of the dressing room. During the battle, I stuck my head above the parapet at the wrong moment - however, I survived. No doubt our teachers quickly put a stop to that game. Quite early in the war years the four school "houses" were created; Atlantic, Matapan, Narvik and Taranto; these being the only successes or partial successes the Allies had achieved up till then. All of our future war-time projects had the additional element of intense competition. I was in Atlantic.

FOOD RATIONING

By the end of 1940, food rationing had become more severe; however, I think that most everyone had enough to eat. Certainly there were very few if any luxuries but no-one starved. The fact of the matter is that the wartime diet was almost certainly better for us than the popular present day fare. I recall dried egg powder, (great for making omelettes), syrup, bread, potatoes and other vegetables, milk and occasional corned beef. Tomatoes were sometimes available and were considered as a luxury. Yes, we had no bananas, as a popular song of the time declared. School children were all pretty fit and obesity was not a problem. Greenock Academy; and I would think most local schools; contrived to provide some food. So far as I can remember there was always milk in little bottles with a cardboard top. At the morning break, we would make a rush to the school canteen to buy a roll with syrup or margarine. War-time margarine did not taste very pleasant. School dinners; (we didn't know about lunch in those days); were provided although I usually took the Bridgend Bus home during the one and a quarter hour break. I recall one occasion when I did stay for school dinner. It comprised only of a plate of mashed potato and a lump of margarine.

GAMES AND SPIES

I led a pretty active life at this time, what with street games, street football and cricket; using a lamppost in Grant Street for the stumps. Our football stadium was Gait Street and we were a really talented bunch, playing with an old tennis ball. A few of us had built bogies (a bogie was a wonderful vehicle made from a wooden box, four good pram wheels, and a lot of enthusiastic construction work) and we used to patrol around the nearby streets. I recall that my chums and I had become very suspicious about a man who lived alone in a house in Grant Street and we were pretty certain that he was a Germany spy. We kept a record of his comings and goings but could prove nothing and eventually tired of that pursuit. Our next war-time inspired exploit concerned Dellingbum Bus Depot. We were sure that something untoward was going on, and we kept notes of various strange buses that turned up there from time to time. Anything that wasn't a Greenock Motor Services bus was the subject of suspicion and conjecture. We didn't come to any firm conclusions and I suspect that "Just William" and "Biggles" played a big part in our imaginings ~ mind you, we could have been on to something - we shall never know.

OCTAVIA PARK AND THE PICTURES

About the age of ten or eleven, I started to play tennis at Lady Octavia Park. I had "found" an old racquet in the clubhouse, presumably left in the lockers by someone who was off to the war. I "repaired" the broken gut stringing with ordinary twine, we had a few old tennis balls, and my interest in the game was up and running. At that time, Octavia Park was a lovely place to visit, with four well maintained tennis courts, a cricket pitch, a putting green, a band stand, tennis and cricket pavilions, and immaculately kept grass and flower beds. Although we had no inclination to abuse any of the plants or amenities, we also had a healthy respect for the head park-keeper and were wary of testing his tolerance level. He was usually inappropriately referred to as "the Gemmy" but I think his name was Andy. There was no such thing as television and we made occasional visits to the "pictures". From time to time my father would take me to the B.B. Cinema on his Wednesday half-day. My pals and I would more often go to the Central Cinema known as "The Ranch" as it showed mostly cowboy films. It had a blazing open fire in the foyer and smelled heavily of perfumed disinfectant and cinnamon stick. We also climbed into Cappielow over the broken down fence at the Wee Dublin End. We paid little attention to the football, and for the most part just made nuisances of ourselves.

FIRST IMPRESSIONS

Towards the end of 1940, I gradually came to take some interest in the war. We had occasional air-raid warnings that year, probably as a result of a German reconnaissance plane in the Greenock area during daylight hours or night bombers heading elsewhere. We would all come down from our bedrooms to take shelter in a cubby hole under the stairs, and would remain there, more or less, until the sirens sounded the all-clear. Most of the boys took a keen interest in the types of aircraft used by both sides; the German Heinkel, Fokker, Dornier, Stuka dive bombers and Messerschmitt fighter planes; the British Lancaster, Blenheim, Hurricane, Spitfire and the Sunderland and Catalina Flying Boats. The remains of the flying boat slipway at Battery Park can still be seen. We also knew a little of the Nazi leaders and our attitudes to them were a reflection of cartoon drawings in the newspapers. Charlie Chaplain in his film "The Great Dictator" had ridiculed Adolf Hitler. Most youngsters had seen the film, and that was how we saw him. Goering was portrayed as a hugely fat buffoon, but Himmler was a fiend, often wielding an axe dripping with blood. The "Germany Calling" radio broadcasts by "Lord Haw Haw" were ridiculed.

THE TRUTH

It is now well appreciated that the first casualty of war is the Truth. At the age of ten I didn't know that. I took it for granted that the B.B.C. and our newspapers gave us the precise facts, and that the Germans exaggerated and told lies - usually stupid or ridiculous. I also knew that most of my world atlas was covered in British Empire pink; that we had the biggest and best Navy in the world; that British soldiers, especially the Scottish, were the best in the world and that as a country we were well nigh invincible. The world was populated by British; foreigners; and very backward peoples. Well, some of that was true. During the early days of the war, the Clyde estuary was visited by a number of the largest ships in the Royal Navy including HMS Hood and HMS Rodney. Trips out to see these ships were arranged and I was able to go aboard the Rodney. I also went aboard a midget submarine tied up at the harbour.

NOT A DAY TO BE PROUD OF

Italy, under Dictator Mussolini, joined the war on the side of Germany, and even as a youngster I was not altogether at ease with some of the reaction in my home town. Italian ice cream shops and fish and chip shops had become well established in Greenock during the nineteen thirties. In my area there was a shop at the foot of Belville Street, one in Ratho Street, one in East Crawford Street; and one on the road up to Octavia Park which I visited whenever I had a half-penny or penny. I assume that the Italian owners were regarded by most as decent shopkeepers and part of our local community. On the day that Italy entered the war, gangs of youths made it an excuse to smash up and loot the shops, and, in the case of the Octavia Park shop, burn it to the ground. Greed and opportunism were the motivations; the declaration of war was an excuse. Not really a day for Greenockians to be too proud of.

NOT TOO CONCERNED

So how was the war going? I had some idea that the Germans were occupying a number of European countries. This posed no invasion threat to us and I knew that the British would sort out the situation in due course. I didn't give the matter too much thought. The Battle of Britain and the Evacuation from Dunkirk were fought out under the cloak of exaggerated propaganda. I was pretty sure we had won the air battle but I was a little bit uncertain about the evacuation. Anyway, way up north in Greenock I wasn't unduly concerned.

GREENOCK FAIR

The Greenock Fair Holiday weekend continued during the war years and in the summer of 1940 my young sister and I waited in a queue at Upper Greenock Station for eight or nine hours to buy tickets for the sailing of the "Loch Eil" from Wemyss Bay to Ardrishaig. The larger steamers such as the St Columba and the Loch Fyne had been withdrawn from this service to attend to more important assignments. Our patience was rewarded with the four tickets we required and we were all able to get away for our long weekend at my Aunt's house near Kilmartin. My father's butcher shop was short staffed because of the call-up of most young men, and a long weekend was as much time as could be afforded.

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