大象传媒

This story was submitted to the People's War site at Surrey History Centre on behalf of Mr Luke Toft. It has been added to the site with the author's permission, and he fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

I was fortunate enough to have had a father who took his parental responsibilities seriously and prepared his sons for their working life. From the age of twelve I was taught by Dad how to use metalworking hand tools and encouraged to go to evening classes when I was old enough. In Surrey, where I lived, you were encouraged to start evening school the term before you were due to leave day school and so qualify for an intermediate award covering fees etc., which I did at the age of thirteen and a half. As a fourteen year old my ambition went no further than to become a jig and tool maker like my father, but as the year was 1938 and war was in the air, firms did not want to take on apprentices in my home area because of the legal responsibilities inherent in premium apprenticeships. During the 1937/1938 evening school sessions I took the pre-National Certificate course and passed, but as I was not yet sixteen the senior study courses were not available to me. In the following year, 1938/1939, I took a course at Wimbledon Technical College to keep my intermediate award alive. Strange as it may seem, my employers of the time seemed to discourage evening school attendance by sometimes wanting me to remain behind on class nights, but somehow I managed to get there.

It was in August 1939 that Dad noticed a job advertisement in the local paper for employment in the toolroom of a firm at Hackbridge, Surrey, not too far from home, so we went on the offchance to see them on Saturday 2nd September 1939 and, much to my delight, they offered me a job in their toolroom. Since all the other toolroom trainees were ex-grammar school or Junior Technical School pupils, it was probably the fact that I went to evening school that appealed to my new employers, for they were keen on further education. Thus began my training to become a skilled toolmaker at last. In this new job I was put with a skilled toolmaker who, once he realised I knew how to use a file (Dad's teaching), went out of his way to train me. As it happened, not one of us lads ever completed our five years to become skilled men because we all ended up with the RAF before our time was up.

My new employers gave their toolroom trainees the chance to attend one of the newly introduced day-release courses at Croydon Technical College: the others went, but I continued with evening studies at Wimbledon Technical College - a wise choice in view of what was to come the following year. Unlike my previous job, no impediments were put in my way. The education year 1939/1940 was the period of the 'phoney war', when the only obstacle in my way was the 'blackout' and, as it was my 16th year, the college put me on the first year of the National Certificate course. This meant that, without realising it, I had begun my engineering studies in earnest and now with the backing of my employer. Despite a lack of textbooks (a common wartime problem), my studies were successful in all three parts, ie examination, homework and classwork. This success made me want to carry on to the second stage.

The 'phoney war' ended in the Spring of 1940 and the situation changed dramatically. With the Dunkirk evacuation and its aftermath our working week changed, with increased working hours. The pattern of working days also changed, first to a seven day working week for a short while and finally to a one day off in eight pattern. In July, the Battle of Britain began and it soon became obvious that spending time in air raid shelters during the working day was not an option, as this would stop the production of the anti-aircraft shell fuses our firm made. Since the overhead air battle continued for most of the daylight hours, and sometimes there were night attacks as well, to have ceased work would have achieved the enemy's objective. To a 16, almost 17, year old, this was an exciting time, especially when watching our fighters attacking and 'downing' enemy aircraft. The danger posed by the vast bomber formations flying overhead did not strike us youngsters, but I do not wish to see such sights again.

Once the daylight attacks had diminished, part-time education re-started at Wimbledon, only now the three nights of full lectures were compressed into one short Saturday afternoon. I was not going to let the enemy stop my studies, so I signed up for the second year engineering course at the 'Tech'. Daytime air raids continued and the college rules were that lectures temporarily ceased when enemy aircraft were overhead, at which stage we were supposed to go down to the basement area. One Saturday afternoon, during an engineering drawing lecture, the air raid warning was followed by the signal for raiders overhead and nobody moved. Shortly afterwards, the lecture room door was flung open and a porter yelled "Raiders overhead - down to the basement" and then closed the door. Our lecturer asked "Did anyone open the door?" The answer was "No" and the lecture carried on. Of course all we part-timers were used to taking no notice of air raids and did not want to lose valuable lecture time. Even during this period civilian deaths were high in the London area (up to 1500 per week at times). At least at that time one could study when at home, but this ended with the onset of the 'Blitz' night bombing when the raiding lasted for most of the night and I had to sleep in an Anderson shelter with my family. My mother hated me remaining in the house to do my homework and did her best to persuade me to stop doing it, but that would have meant giving up study altogether. My mother's fears were substantiated, however, when our house was 'blasted' by a nearby bomb - I was in the shelter at the time. Unlike me, our dog, of uncertain ancestry, was in the house at the time and was quite unconcerned by the bombing. The first incendiary bombs which were dropped did not explode and it was safe to walk towards them. On the occasion when I went to deal with a nearby incendiary bomb, however, it exploded in front of me but passed over my head (fortunately I must have ducked instinctively!). It was 60 years later that I was told that my brother and mother were watching. That night was the first time explosive incendiary bombs were dropped and the way of dealing with them changed overnight.

Home study became easier once I started my twice weekly ARP (later Civil Defence) duties at the Wilson Hospital close to Mitcham Common. This was because, during air raids, my duty location was the hospital lecture room on the top floor, where I was left alone for most of the time. There were anti-aircraft guns on the common and each time they fired, the ground shock from them had its effect in the lecture room by causing the skeleton in the corner ('Charlie') to rattle and the glass jars with specimens in them to clink on their racks. The effect of a nearby bomb was of course far more noticeable! Fortunately for me the hospital remained untouched until after I left in 1943, when, in 1944, it was struck by a 'doodlebug' (V1). Despite being on duty overnight, one was of course expected to turn up for work the next morning.

The night bombing blitz continued unabated and reached its climax in May 1941, after which the night-time air raiding diminished. I duly sat my exams and was failed because of insufficient classwork and homework marks, thus making the 1940/41 session a 'lost year', both as regards study and the intermediate award, no allowance being made for air raids etc. The course had to be repeated the following winter and fortunately the 1941/42 session returned to full length lectures and air raids were sporadic.

Of my fellow apprentices, I was the only one who survived the war, as the others volunteered for flying duties and were killed in action, whereas I completed my studies and was sent to an RAF development unit.

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