´óÏó´«Ã½

The following story has been submitted by Nina Davey on behalf of the author Dorothy Cook who has given her permission and is aware of the rules and regulations.

War began four months ago. The boys have either volunteered or been conscripted for the forces. They went away for six months basic training, came home for a brief leave and then away to war. This time it was for real.

The village men dug an air raid shelter in the bank on top of the hill. We are all issued with gas masks and identity cards. It was compulsory to take them with you wherever you went. No longer friendly lights from windows or street lights shining, we have blackouts. It is a serious offence to show a light for which you could be fined. There were air raid wardens on duty at night keeping watch. There were also firewatchers on duty on top of the hill, this work was voluntary but every one who was able did their bit.

The siren warned us that enemy bombers were on their way. One night a bomb dropped in Mr Ingrim's field fortunately no one was hurt but there was some structural damage. On another night bombs dropped on the towans aiming for the Power Station. I worked there, and was night shift at the time. We were very fortunate in comparison to the rest of the country.

We were issued with ration books, what food was not rationed was scarce. Imported produce was no longer available. Everyone grew vegetables, it was strange to see the front gardens in Caroline Row growing vegetables instead of flowers. Some of us grew fruit, strawberries, raspberries, loganberries, rhubarb, gooseberries, blackcurrants, we had them all as they came into season not forgetting the wild blackberry, they were all most acceptable in those days. A bar of soap had to last a week for washing ourselves, the dishes, tables, floors and the laundry, it somehow lasted. We cleaned our teeth with soot or salt, cleaned our face with petroleum jelly, witch hazel was a good astringent. Clothes were rationed as well. I think we had 26 coupons a year but with 14 for a coat and 7 for a pair of shoes little was left for anything else. Not very happy leaving school, then starting work in a gymslip.

Girls who worked in shops or in service were now on munitions and some went into the armed forces. Any household with a spare room was compelled to take evacuees. We made camouflage nets and also knitted string vests.

The immaculate Penmare was taken over by the army. It was full of soldiers who drilled up and down Caroline Row every day. The recreation ground was full of soldiers as well, a guard stood at the entrance — NO ENTRY. There were British and American soldier billeted in Hayle Riviera house and the Drill Hall was also occupied. Despite all these strangers it was always safe to go out in the dark with no streetlights or white lines or cats eyes to guide you. I often wonder how we found our way to and from the Power Station on those dark winter nights. Iron gates and fences were confiscated for munitions. Everyone had a part to play and we were there for each other.

May 1945 and the war is over, it was unusually warm and sunny for that time of year. We gathered at the bottom of the hill thankful that it was over, but I shall never forget the look that was exchanged between my mother and Mrs Gregor, they had each lost a son, so had five other families in our little village. On the front of the Chapel on the hill are the names of those that died. One of my brothers was a gunner in the regular army; he was killed in Antwerp in December 1944.
Another brother served in the RAF and two other brothers were train drivers transporting ammunition, war materials and troops. They were often signalled to stop in a tunnel to shelter from enemy bombing until the all clear was given, not knowing what was in front of them when they came out. Two of my cousins were also killed. The men and women who went away are returning we will never know what they have been through, they have never talked about it.

Everything is changing. Blackouts are no longer required, the streetlights are on once more and our village is lit up again. There is still rationing, we have coupons now for utility furniture. It was quite good, some of it is still in use. People are buying their homes instead of renting, alas our house was sold I was nineteen and had to leave my beloved village. We went to live in a council house; it never did seem like home to me. Some my friends married and went away. I don't know how others feel but Ventonleague will always have a special place in my heart.

© Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.