大象传媒

Frederick Frank Hockin, RASC, T119430

This story is submitted by Jan Barrett (daughter of Frederick Frank Hockin) and taken from her memories of his war stories. His widow, Violet Hockin, is aware of the terms and conditions of the site and is willing for it to be submitted.
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My Dad

Born 8th May 1913, in Gosport, Fred Hockin saw his father return from the First World War in 1918. Far from a 鈥渓and fit for heroes鈥� his father was out of work for many years and Fred and his brothers and sisters (of which there were eventually 7) suffered hardship. They knew what it was to be hungry, and to wear hand-me down clothes and boots. They knew their mother cut boiled eggs in half and told them she had 鈥渏ust cut the top off for them鈥� so they thought they had a whole one each. Often their supper was a penny Oxo stirred into hot water.

At the age of 14, Fred started work at a local butcher鈥檚 shop and became skilled in that trade. He worked from six in the morning until 9 at night and was often so tired when he reached home, that his father would carry him up to bed and lay him there still dressed and too tired to do anything but sleep.

In 1940, he volunteered to join the Army and became a driver in the Royal Army Service Corps (RASC) No. T119430. Two weeks training at Barnard (?) Castle in the North of England, gave him the skills to drive a tank transporter. Initially stationed in Shropshire, carting ammunition about as required, he was then sent to Norfolk where the army helped the farmers, and then to Enfield and Croydon (known at that time as 鈥淏uzz-Bomb Alley鈥�).

In 1941, he married Violet Rose Sykes, who he had met 2 years before when she was serving behind the counter in her Dad鈥檚 pub, The Wheatsheaf, in Cowes, on the Isle of Wight.

In July 1944 he was sent to France, embarking at Portsmouth and disembarking at Cassells Beach? (near Calais?) At that time, my mother Violet was living with Dad鈥檚 mother, Dorothy Hockin , in Gosport. Fred鈥檚 Captain, knowing that he was a local man, sent a dispatch rider to Dorothy鈥檚 address in the Crossways to say Fred was in Portsmouth embarking the next day for France (he couldn鈥檛 get leave of course). Violet bought baby Janice down to the port to say goodbye before he set sail. She sat the baby (me) on the back of his transporter, the baby wee-d, and everyone laughed and said it would bring them luck. Violet said she would never forget waving him goodbye and wondering if she would ever see him again.

Fred went to Eindhoven. They had to cross the Rhine and he volunteered to test his transporter lorry on a temporary bridge that the army hastily built. Could it take a full load? Firstly he took the transporter over without its load, driving slowly and carefully, then he went back over; the tank and the tar trollies were loaded onto the transporter and he carefully crossed the bridge again. His mate, walked behind at a safe distance 鈥� 鈥淚鈥檓 no hero, Fred鈥� he joked.

Fred had three brothers, Jack who went in to the Royal Navy, Bill who served in the Merchant Navy (and who later changed his name to Michael Sinclair) and Jim who joined the Airforce. They all came back safely.

Jan Barrett
July 2005

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