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This story has been written onto the ´óÏó´«Ã½ People’s War site by CSV Storygatherer Lucy Thomas of Callington U3A on behalf of Hilda Thomson. They fully understand the terms and conditions of the site.

PLYMOUTH AND CALLINGTON W.W.2 MEMORIES OF HILDA THOMSON
Going to school in Plymouth during the war years was very scary. You could be on your way when the air raid warning would sound, and you hurried to the nearest shelter. One day while we were studying, we heard machine gun fire, and then the air raid warning. Looking up I saw the German plane and the pilot firing his machine guns. The barrage balloons were still down and he had just managed to clear the wires. He went on to kill children, and also machine the dockyard. Our school had to share our premises with another school that was bombed, so it meant school was one week in the mornings, and next in the afternoons. Most evenings were spent in the Anderson shelter at the bottom of the garden.

One day having said ‘Happy Birthday’ to one of my form friends, I left her to go home. She was so happy, because her father had sent the money for her to have her hair permed, and they were having a small party in the evening. She and her mother had promised her father that they would go into their shelter if the warning sounded. They did this, and a land mine landed very near and they were killed by the blast, which had taken their breath away as they sat in the shelter. Jean was the first pupil to be killed, and I have always grieved and remembered that.

I was in the blitz of Plymouth on the night after the King George V1 and Queen Elizabeth had visited the city during the day, and not long after that I was evacuated to my grandmother, Mrs. Brimblecombe, in Callington. The night we arrived they dropped the bombs at Moss Side, Callington. The bed shook and moved across the slightly sloping floor. We felt we were about to shoot out of the window, and that the bombers had followed us from Plymouth! That was the most we had to scare us in Callington.

There were troops billeted in the Blue Cap Hotel, and the West End Chapel Schoolroom. Our neighbour had some billeted with her in the West End Cafe, also Land Army girls. The troops from all the various R.A.S.C. camps in the area would come every day in their lorries for tea etc. Also at Kelly Bray we had the R.E.M.E. camp. The troops were very good to the residents. They arranged whist drives, bingo and dancing. After our troops had moved on, the Americans arrived, and they took over one of the petrol tanks at Dustan’s Garage next to Doney and Hancock’s. There was one delightful morning when the Americans made some ice cream with Mr. Gimblett’s (local man who had a shop) machine, they took some into the people in the garage, and they brought some over to my grandmother and me. After we had enjoyed it, imagine our surprise when an American, a coloured soldier, came and brought us some more. My grandma said ‘Ask him in, and then he can help us eat it!’ He was so overwhelmed to be asked into our dining room. He told us he was called ‘Clyde’ after one of our famous rivers.

I went to work for the W.N.O.C. Ltd. (Western National Omnibus Co.) as a clerk, but I also had to do C.D. (Civil Defence) work, so I joined the Fire Service, where I did 19 months’ service. I had to go on duty at 8 o’clock in the evening till 8 o’clock the next morning, and then on to my work. Whilst on fire duty we used to practise with the stirrup pumps. Then one day a van arrived, and we had to put on our gas masks, and go into the gas filled lorry, We were there on call, and to pass the time we used to play cards and chat with the firemen until about midnight. Then the officer in charge would escort us down to the duty room and check that all was clear. After being locked in the duty room, we took turns to sleep in the bunk beds. We were on the phone at different times on duty. When there was an alarm, we had to ring Headquarters to tell them what appliances we had, and also our sub station at Gunnislake.. When the fire brigades were called out, others had to move to be ready to replace them. Callington went to Saltash, Saltash went over the ferry to St. Budeaux and the Gunnislake brigade came to Callington. I was very lucky as I never had to call out the fire brigades to go to their stations. I remember one day hearing one of the men asking who was on duty. When told that it was me with some one else, he said ‘Thank God! It will be a peaceful night tonight then!’

Once we had a War Weapons Week Parade. We were taken to the Rifle Volunteer Inn at St. Ann’s Chapel. From there we marched to the top of the hill, and right down past Sandhill to take the salute at Gunnislake. Our feet were very sore after that.

We had a girl’s club run by Mr Percy Maker who played the piano. We learnt songs and did shows with singing and dancing. We used coloured ribbons to demonstrate the flags of different countries. The ‘Blue Cap Hotel’ (now Goldings Flats) ballroom was a very popular rendezvous on Saturdays for the dances. I remember one particular Saturday when after 10 o’clock, the people would come in from the ‘bars’ and there was a disturbance. I remember Sergeant Toms catching hold of one of them, and turning him out of the ballroom and going out after him. We had good policing then.

Approaching D.Day the main road from Callington to Saltash was partially blocked as all the troops were moving in to go aboard the ships which would take them to France on D. Day and the following days. The Warwickshire regiment went, and then another, and then the Pioneer Corps. They all went over to France. The sadness is that most of the men lost their lives. On the Plymouth side of the Saltash Ferry is a memorial to those troops.

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