大象传媒

Thursday, thirty-first of August 1939 was one of those glorious late summer days, typical of that time of the year in the late nineteen thirties. I was on the beach at Weymouth, where the sand had a particular quality of much greater stability, trying to make a superior style of sandcastle. My parents were enjoying, or so I thought, the last few days of their annual holiday 鈥� a rare thing then but one for which they determinedly and dedicatedly saved.

Suddenly, I became aware that they were having a serious discussion; looking up, I saw that my father was showing Mother something in the newspaper. Even at the age of eight, I sensed that it was serious. It was only momentary, though; Dad saw me, smiled and said 鈥淢ake the most of it, lad, there鈥檚 only one more day left after today鈥�, so I did as bid.

The following morning, after Dad returned with his favourite 鈥楴ews Chronicle鈥�, there was more serious discussion, ending with his opinion that there was going to be a war. Hastily, cases were packed and we left Weymouth on a train to Paddington, then our back to Southall, where we lived. Summer holiday clothes were thrown out of the cases, to be replaced by 鈥榳inter woollies鈥�. I was told that I we were going that night to Accrington, where Mother and I would stay with Dad鈥檚 parents, but he would have to return home to work, and I must choose some toys to take with me. It was an easy choice. I still have today the well-made wooden box which contained my MECCANO no. 7 with many extra pieces bought from time to time with three pence-a-week pocket money.

Early that evening we left home, this time for Euston. My recollection of the journey is of a large amount of traffic, and vast numbers of people heading towards, and already in, the station. Many of the platforms were crammed almost to their full width, mostly it seemed with Irishmen, jostling wildly and desperate to board any train to Liverpool, Holyhead or Fleetwood. Only one train was scheduled for Accrington, and its departure platform number kept changing, perhaps to avoid confusion with the Irish. Our situation was becoming critical after yet another change then Mother saw a gap in the heaving masses. 鈥淨uick, go over those luggage trollies,鈥� she urged. How Dad managed the cases and my Meccano box I never knew, but we caught the late night train to Accrington.

I remember little of the Saturday, and would certainly have slept most of the morning, possibly played with the Meccano, perhaps began making a model. The atmosphere I would now recognise as anxious and solemn, but 鈥榳ar鈥� meant little to me except those in history lessons, where knights in armour rode horses, and the yeomanry used the English long bow, which was better than anyone else鈥檚. The enemy was often France, which we usually beat, so the French hated us. Nelson and Trafalgar, Wellington and Waterloo, were stories of our great victories over them. An alliance with them and the relevance of Poland and Germany were not within my comprehension.

Sunday morning came, September 3rd, 1939. I had concentrated on completing my model, and thought it looked quite realistic. The 鈥榳ireless鈥� was on, awaiting the special announcement from the Prime Minister, Mr Neville Chamberlain at 11 o鈥檆lock.

The words with which he finished his short speech are etched in my memory forever: 鈥溾�o such undertaking has been received; consequently, we鈥檙e now at war with Germany.鈥�

On the floor was my Meccano model 鈥� of a surfaced submarine 鈥� a U-boat.

Three short weeks later we returned home. The blitzkrieg did not happen 鈥� then.

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