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This story was written by my father, Gordon Rawson, as part of a collection of material from residents of Sandsend to commemorate V.E day.

Sandsend at War. ---- By Gordon Rawson.

I was aged 15 when war broke out and attending Whitby County School , later Whitby Grammar School.
One of the jobs I had was the air raid messenger and this involved riding around the village blowing a whistle when the a red warning was issued and ringing a hand bell for the all clear. It is well documented that the first such occasion I did this was in response to a false alarm within in minutes of war being declared by Chamberlain, whose quavering voice had just been heard on the radio.
It was a most sombre moment as our family had a member who was in regular service in R.A.F aircrew. It was particularly hard for my mother knowing that with three sons she had to face the prospect of all three of them being in the services and all that this implied.
That day was memorable too for my sister, a nurse, who was preparing for her wedding and had joined us with one of her bridesmaids. We all went down for a swim before breakfast in a sea which was far from calm and with quite an undertow. Needless to say we were the only ones swimming and on returning home the radio was issuing bulletins on the progress of battles in Poland. Our makeshift blackout curtains were being hung and anti blast strips of paper stuck to the windows. My father鈥檚 car was also in need of having the lights screened to provide the minimum light as specified by the government instructions. We achieved this by using metal cutters and a Lyles Golden Syrup tin.
We all thought that air raids were imminent, but apart from the false alarm on day 1, little evidence of the war was felt. Poland was overrun and destroyed within weeks and the 鈥減honey 鈥� war developed. Convoys were in evidence almost daily and occasionally gunfire or depth charges exploding could be heard.

Gas masks were issued and schools evacuated to Whitby from Hull. Our school took Malet Lambert High School. Each school used classrooms for 陆 a day and the other 陆 being devoted to either sports or private study. School opening was adjusted to give optimum teaching times and generally, the system worked well. Although the schools were segregated , there were many friendships between individuals. Eventually, lack of air raids and a general air of euphoria resulted in Malet Lambert returning to Hull as did most of the other evacuees in other parts of the district. However some stayed on and were integrated into our school.
The culture shock for the evacuees and indeed ourselves was substantial. Many of the children were from depressed areas of Hull and had no concept of country life. Like wise, we knew little of inner city survival. The most memorable aspect of this particular evacuation was the presence of the late Jean Rook, famous agony aunt and journalist.
Transport was difficult , but trains ran, buses were still operating and we had our legs and bikes could be used on the main roads in safety. Life went on if restricted and rationed.

Great excitement was aroused in late September or early October when two German airmen were captured. More accurately, they gave themselves up to two locals patrolling the area between the station and Sandsend tunnel. According to one of the captors, they were as scarred as the Germans who were suffering from exposure after spending several days in a rubber dinghy after being shot down over the Firth of Forth. It certainly put Sandsend on the map !

The next item of any significance was on new Years eve 1939 when a magnetic mine blew up against the sea wall. This new weapon was obviously very powerful did considerable damage to the wall itself and to windows of many houses, including ours and also demolishing two cottages adjacent to the sea wall.
Whether he fell out or was blown out of bed is a mystery, but my father ended up on the bedroom floor which caused much family hilarity. The explosion caused a lot of local interest and special buses brought sightseers, a remarkable feat when fuel was rationed, but this was our first real taste of war.
( Did the mine cause unseen damage that lead, again, to the collapse of the sea wall in the great storm of 1953 ?)

Great excitement one Saturday morning. Our scout troop was based at Whitby School and we worked on our wood work projects. Suddenly all hell broke loose as concentrated machine gun fire was heard. Three hurricanes were attacking a German Heinkel, which was in the process of crash landing about a mile away. This turned out to be the first aircraft to be shot down on English soil and I was looking at it about 15 minuets later ! The Hurricanes carried out some spectacular low level acrobatics. Flight Lieutenant Townsend, later to become Group Captain Townsend ( and friend of Princess Margaret.) was the victor of this battle.
There were soon large crowds looking at the damaged aircraft. I did get a souvenir, but someone ratted on me and told the local policeman who came for it the next day. This was the first and almost the last of my souvenirs, but what a memento it would have been today.
As the spring progressed in 1940, when England was reflecting on the loss of Norway the focus rapidly shifted to the low countries where the war escalated dramatically. My brother who we knew was on regular operations, suddenly found that he was doing many flights. We knew that he was with 2 Group which took a tremendous mauling over France and the Low Countries. The Blenheim, in which he flew, whilst being a good aircraft, did not have the power, speed, nor defensive armament to cope with the best Germany had. Inevitably these aircraft suffered casualties. My brother鈥檚 turn came after Dunkirk and the fall of France. July 9th 1940 is a memorable day in our family life. I was taking my final exam for my school certificate and had just completed my writing when I was summoned to the headmaster鈥檚 study. I wondered what misdemeanour I was being summoned for. I was confronted by our vicar and the Head so knew there was a serious problem, far beyond school activities. My dearly loved brother Lloyd, was missing, believed killed over Norway. They had known for hours, but in their wisdom had let me write my final exam paper. My mother was frantic but we could do nothing to console her. My father had been through World War 1 and did not feel the impact ( or did not show it.) My other brother Peter and I felt the impact and remember. This was the first of our village鈥檚 casualties and our loss affected many---- the postman who delivered the Air ministry telegram ( and knew the contents) was devastated and most of the village were aware of our loss. It was hard to come to terms with this awful calamity, but life goes on.
Post Dunkirk 1940 we suddenly woke up to the fact that Germany鈥檚 papier mache tanks and obsolescent aircraft were a propaganda fiction. We were not invincible and were facing a well trained, efficient and well equipped war machine. We were vulnerable ! Sandsend had no fortifications against a seaborne landing. Suddenly, tank traps and cement fortifications were springing up everywhere. A small garrison was stationed there and two small pieces of small artillery located in 鈥渟ecret鈥� emplacements. One gun was just outside the station in a pill box overlooking the sea. The other was concealed on an erstwhile garage below East Row bridge. What stories that gun could tell !! It was constantly manned and many a night I walked past in the blackout to hear the chatter of females as well as soldiers. The blackout was secure and gave anonymity to those trysts !
As summer came the worst privation was to be excluded from the beach. The beach was mined and a barbed wire barrage effectively kept us off.
As with many rural areas Sandsend had its share or air raids. Although we were never actually bombed, some bombs were dropped in Whitby and jettisoned in the woods behind the village ( Mulgrave Woods.) I was part of the communication line which came from the Council Offices via Miss Grayburn鈥檚 house. Many a night was spent sitting in her lounge eating chocolate biscuits and drinking hot chocolate that she provided. After many sleepless nights in July and August, the routine changed and a more laid back attitude prevailed. Apart from issuing the warning and the all clear, we stayed at home and went back to bed. On one occasion a mass of incendiary bombs fell in the woods, either jettisoned or wrongly dropped and because of the branches , many were caught up in the trees. Few ignited and the local lads had a field day collecting and dismantling them. They had a small explosive charge which could easily be detonated by a sharp tap with a hammer. I can vouch for this as my brother Peter was doing more than most in dismantling these small bombs. It came to an end when one went off prematurely and put one of the lads in hospital for a few days, fortunately with no lasting damage. On another night a battle overhead could be clearly heard and was followed by a stick on bombs falling in the woods. My brother and I found the craters and the next morning at first light we revisited the scene. We were rewarded by finding some dead pheasants which were quickly hidden and taken home. If we had not got them the gamekeepers or some other locals would.
The Home Guard ( Dad鈥檚 Army) in Sandsend consisted of a platoon which was part of the railway company based in Whitby. It was a polyglot group of World War 1 veterans, youngsters like myself and one or two locals who were either unfit or in reserved occupations. Surprisingly farm workers were reserved and there were quite a few. Drill were both hilarious and serious. The station platform was used for drilling and marching with instructions from local army N.C.O鈥檚. We were well equipped with Springfield (U.S) rifles, but no bayonets. Norman Stainthorpe the L.N.E.R porter was the platoon sergeant and told us tales of WW1 and life in Flanders. The Bullring at Etaples was a real horror story of how men were prepared for coming battles. I enjoyed my time with the men, being only 16 and listening to the adult experiences.

This was the situation in 1940 and with variations, went on throughout 1941 and into 1942. I did not see V.E day and was in fact, on active service in Burma, but that was another war. I joined the RAF in 1942 for pilot training and that virtually ended any contact with Sandsend until the spring on 1947 when I returned from S.E Asia 鈥� a veteran pilot at 23years. I could tell of having flown Spitfires, Hurricanes, Thunderbolts and D.C.3 Dakotas, but that鈥檚 another story.

Gordon. C. Rawson.

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