大象传媒

This story was submitted to the People's War site by Catherine Blandford and has been added to the website on behalf of Vincent Nolan with his permission and he fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

The memories don鈥檛 come sequentially. And they don鈥檛 begin with the most important or serious, they come back to me in an order of importance to any ten year old, who was 16 when the war ended. We were living in Crosby near Liverpool when war was declared on 3rd September. That Sunday morning I was serving on the altar for 10.30 Mass at Little Crosby Church. As I cycled home afterwards, I stopped at the village shop to buy sweets. 鈥淗ave you heard, Vincent, the war has started鈥� said Mrs. Bullen. 鈥淥h, good鈥�, I replied, because I was fed up with all the talk of war and the uncertainty we had had since Munich, a year earlier. 鈥淥h don鈥檛 say that, Vincent鈥� said Mrs. B, 鈥渨ar is a terrible thing鈥�

I was supposed to be going to grammar school that September, so in a way the war was a bonus for me. It was a beautiful Indian summer and I was able to make the most of it: school remained closed while an air raid shelter was being built in case of emergency during the school day. It was only used one or two times, both false alarms. But I had a wonderful long and warm summer holiday that year.

The cinemas were closed immediately war broke out. The new Odeon cinema in Crosby opened the day before and claims to be the only cinema which opened and closed on the same day!

At midnight one night in 1940 a bomb fell on a house 100 yards down the road 鈥� a direct hit 鈥� killing the lady who lived there. It blew in the windows of the lounge where Michael, my brother, and I were sleeping. My parents were sleeping in the kitchen which had been reinforced with planks on the floor and supports for the ceiling beams so that it was like a wooden shell inside. The lounge had lead light windows so the panes were smaller and the windows generally stronger than sheet glass. We boys weren鈥檛 hit by flying glass but our parents weren鈥檛 to know that. 鈥淟et鈥檚 sing,鈥� I suggested, 鈥渟o they know we鈥檙e all right.鈥� The first song that came to mind was a catchy tune from the Christmas panto. 鈥淵ou pull the damper out or you push the damper in, the smoke goes up the chimney just the same鈥�, we sang lustily, not aware of the double entendre. My father entered and declared, 鈥淭hat鈥檚 hardly the sort of song to be singing at a time like this!鈥� It was years later before I realised why. After that we had external wooden shutters mounted beside each window. Not that Crosby itself was ever a target really: the bombers aimed for the docks and it was only stray bombs that fell in Crosby.

Crosby starts at the end of the local docks and finishes at Little Crosby which borders the countryside. There were three evacuation zones: evacuation, reception and neutral. At first Crosby was deemed an evacuation zone because of its proximity to the docks, and there was talk of all the children being sent away. Then it was considered a reception zone (as a country area) so children were expected to arrive from the cities. Finally it was designated neutral so Crosby remained much the same except gradually we lost more and more of our young men and eventually there was a shortage of masters to teach at school. By the time I was in the sixth form there was no Maths master at all.

My father was part of the firewatch team and would regularly go on duty but didn鈥檛 wear a uniform. He didn鈥檛 have the status of the Home Guard or ARP warden therefore, as they had specialist uniforms that seemed to carry with them a certain authority. Adults were kept pretty busy with work and war duties so there was greater freedom for children in a way there doesn鈥檛 seem to be today. This made it easier for me to cultivate relationships with all the lady sweet shop owners within bike riding radius. Each thought they were the only one I saw and would keep sweets by for me when supplies were short. Often there was Kit Kat because it was made in the north, but never Mars 鈥� that was made down south. Then suddenly sweet rationing came about and the game was up.

The points rationing scheme for non-essential, non-perishable foods, like canned goods, dried fruit etc. (but not sweets and chocolate, which had their own scheme) was a brilliant device. The inventor 鈥� David Worswick 鈥� was later my Economics tutor at Oxford. . You could spend them as you chose and as supplies varied so did the 鈥渃ost鈥� in terms of points value. Everyone was given the same amount of points. It worked like an alternative currency but was much fairer because it meant that people with more money couldn鈥檛 get more than their fair share. For short supply foodstuffs, there was the ration book which would give you a set amount of meat, cheese, butter or sugar or whatever and that was that. You were given extra sugar I remember if you made your own jam. My mum used to make up to 40 lb of blackcurrant jam from the fruit in the garden, and also marmalade from Seville oranges

Up in the kitchen was a map of the Russian front. I would listen to the news on the wireless and move the German and Russian flags across the map accordingly. I often think that if Russia hadn鈥檛 had its coldest winter in years we would probably be a German state now. It鈥檚 not as simple as that I know, but it was certainly very significant. One day we were listening to the wireless at lunch time before going back to school for the afternoon when we heard that France had fallen. French was my next lesson. When the French master walked in the whole class booed him. He understood how we were feeling and commiserated. He was pretty shocked too.

Because so many young men were away fighting, vacation work was easy to get. At fourteen I worked in the Post Office delivering letters and after delivering all the Christmas post I had enough money to buy my first cello. It was the only thing in the window of the violin shop. Factory made in 1890, it was 拢8.00 after a bit of haggling, and I bought it. I own it still - it has a lovely tone. It鈥檚 currently played by a bright young musician while I have a new one that I use for orchestra.

Farm work was plentiful too. Picking peas was the hardest. You were paid piece work, 1s.2d for a 40lb hamper. It was horrible work 鈥� picking potatoes was better. That brought in 7d an hour. The most pleasant was harvesting 鈥� picking up sheaves from the horse-drawn reaper/binder and stacking them into stooks. When the binder missed we would tie the stook with straw. Then we loaded the wagon and unloaded into the barn. Then we had to wait for the threshing machine to come round. That was steam driven so pretty noisy. We were paid by the hour though I don鈥檛 remember how much.

I wasn鈥檛 allowed out after dark owing to the blackout and never to the cinema 鈥� my mother didn鈥檛 approve. I think all that had little to do with the war, however, but it was a convenient excuse! As a result, radio was a vital source of information (TV didn鈥檛 exist) and radio comedians like Tommy Handley and Richard Murdoch were highly prized.

My parents went every 3 weeks to the Playhouse Repertory Theatre in Liverpool, where Michael Redgrave was a member of the cast (my Mum鈥檚 favourite). Football at Everton also continued but teams had guest players who happened to be stationed nearby. It wasn鈥檛 鈥榬eal鈥� League football. Blackpool had a very strong team because several star players were at a big RAF staion nearby

Petrol was rationed, but key workers like doctors had an additional ration. My Dad, as a commercial traveller came into that category, though his job changed from selling supplies to allocating them. He always managed to conserve enough petrol to take us away on the annual family holiday to Llandudno in North Wales (probably illegally, I suspect!).

The whole of my adolescence (my time at secondary school) was influenced by the war, but I have no idea how different it would have been if the war had not been on.

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