大象传媒

THE THOMSON WAR YEARS -PART 1

1939-45 War- blitz, evacuations and back to near normal

I was only 5 years old when war was declared and so I do not recall the events leading up to it, I have learnt some of the background subsequently from reading and watching the many TV documentaries on the subject, war seems to have a continual fascination.

I believe that for a few months after September 3rd, 1939 when war was declared, life carried on pretty much as usual although I vaguely remember being taken to St. Mark鈥檚 Institute in Victoria Road for the issue and fitting of a gas mask, I think John, my brother, was given a Mickey Mouse one, presumably to help alleviate the claustrophobic effect the masks had. Everybody was enjoined to carry them wherever they went.

It soon became apparent that living in Woolston, with the Supermarine works (where the Spitfire was first built), Thorneycroft鈥檚 shipyard and the Rolling Mills at Weston, it was an important target area for the German Luftwaffe and sure enough the blitzes soon started. Everyone started to erect underground Anderson shelters in their gardens and some had Morrison steel indoor ones. The cupboard under the stairs was also a favourite bolt hole. Public shelters were also built and static water tanks created in case of damage to water mains. We did not actually have a shelter at home because we could use my grandmother鈥檚 one which she had built in her large four-car garage, which due to the slope of the road was in fact partly below ground and would be very effective against the force of blast, virtually no shelter would have survived a direct hit.

Grandmother鈥檚 shelter was of 9鈥� brick construction with a reinforced concrete roof and had a small vent hole in the roof. It had a double bed in it which seemed to take up the whole area and I remember the many times we went down there in the middle of the night, all crammed together on that bed, it always seemed damp and I can smell the mustiness to this day.

Because father had his newsagency, he was in what was called a 鈥渞eserved occupation鈥�, he was not called up to serve in the forces but had to work in Thorneycroft鈥檚 shipyard and at the same time somehow keep the shop going with the help of mother and his assistant Miss Tuck. He was also an air-raid warden and did firewatching duties on a rota basis. So life was busy for him particularly with so many nights without sleep.
Eventually the German air raids became intense and father felt it wise that mother, John and I should be evacuated behind the line of fire although he had to remain put. I do not know how it was arranged but we went to stay in Watlington in Oxfordshire, grandmother and her companion, Miss White, also came. We lived in a rectory with a country parson and his wife, I do not remember too much of our stay there except that the parson had a very 鈥減lummy鈥� voice saying things like 鈥� Come here little dawg!鈥�. The other thing I recall is that the taxi driver who picked us up from the station told us that the 鈥淗ood鈥� battleship had been sunk much to everyone鈥檚 consternation. We only stayed at Watlington for a few weeks when it was decided that the blitz had subsided and so we moved back nearer home, this time to Bishops Waltham and father also joined us.

We rented a room with a family called the Bassetts in a period house facing the High Street, Mr. Bassett was a local bank manager, he was a very tall man and had a penchant for eating his meals standing up at the table, I never understood why! I was enrolled and attended Bishops Waltham elementary school and father joined us every evening. Mother used to tell me that although we were very grateful to be there, she felt that the Bassetts were not over keen on having us but perhaps they were coerced into doing their bit for the war effort. Anyway the accommodation was too cramped and my parents decided to look for somewhere else for us to stay, again I do not know how these things were arranged but we then moved to Curdridge.

We took up residence in the top floor of 鈥� Furzecote鈥�, a very large house owned by the Gamblin family, grandmother, Miss White and great aunt Allie also had rooms there and uncle George, aunt Gertie and cousins Jack and Jean rented a house next door. Geoffrey Gamblin was a farmer, a great character, his wife was Rose and between them had 10 children! Rose, probably needing the rest, seemed to stay in bed for the whole winter!

The place was always in a bit of a pickle, when you went into the scullery you had to pick your steps over chicken, pigs and what have you and because there were so many children some of them had to sleep in the drawers of chests. However because of the span of the children鈥檚 ages, the older ones seemed to look after and bring up the younger ones, thus enabling the mother to retire to bed!

For us, it was a satisfactory arrangement, we had more space and father could come out and join us in the evenings and it was a little removed from the bombings. The Gamblins were very decent country folk and made us feel welcome and let us have the run of the place with no petty restrictions, they had enough of their own family to bother about us! The Gamblin鈥檚 farm had cattle, one had to run the gauntlet of William the bull when passing down the entrance drive, it was head down for me and I did not look him in the eye! While we were at Furzecote, Mr. Gamblin had a new milking parlour built, I remember lorry loads of rubble arriving, this was from bomb-damaged building from Southampton and some loads had broken china in it, from I believe Edwin Jones (now Debenhams). It was the first time that I saw cows milked by machine and I am sure that it was the 鈥渟tate of the art鈥� in those days. The family name of Gamblin is still seen around to this day, some in farming, other in plant hire and I am sure, in other businesses.

During the time spent with Gamblins, I attended Curdridge elementary school which was sited just behind St. Peter鈥檚 church. It was about a two mile walk which one thought nothing of those days and I was also taken to the church on Sundays, usually by aunt Allie. A treat was to buy lemonade powder from Mr. Mears at the Post Office where one could seem to buy virtually anything and the smell of the paraffin lamps lingers on!

The extent of the German bombing raids appeared to wax and wane and so in due course it was decided that it would be reasonably safe to move back nearer to Southampton, this would be in 1942 and so we bade the Gamblins farewell and went to a rented house in Rossington Avenue, Bitterne. This would be more convenient for father who remember, had to work in the shipyard and run the newsagency.


While there I had an interview and was accepted to go to St. Mary鈥檚 College which was nearby and a short walk up Monks Path. This was a fee paying school run by Roman Catholic brothers and I was to remain there until leaving in 1950.

It was at Rossington Avenue that we made acquaintance of the Thorne family who lived opposite, Harold, Norah and sons John and Robert and we were to remain good friends for many years and have many picnics together over the years, sadly after the deaths of mother and father we have now lost touch. John Thorne also joined St. Mary鈥檚 College, in his early days there he had to be coaxed to school, I had to take him with lure of sweets- he ended up a headmaster of a school!

So much for a quieter period of bombing, one night there was an almighty blitz, we spent the whole night in the air raid shelter cowering under a veritable storm of bombs, worst of all were the 鈥渄oodlebugs鈥�, (flying bombs) and when the engine stopped, one knew the bomb was on its way down, you could hear the scream of it just hoped it did not have your name on it! The next morning the ground was littered with expended incendiary bombs and shrapnel and so clearly this was not the best place to be, so it was on the run again.

I should explain that we were not able to return to our own house in Oak Road because this was commandeered by the United States Navy and was used as a billet for officers. The back garden was covered by shingle, a shower block was built outside and our dining room had bunk beds in it. I used to visit the house with father, I stood in awe of the Negro cooks who made me feel at ease with mugfuls of fruit cocktail, something that I had not seen since before the war. The US navy took over several buildings in Southampton and it was interesting to see some of those buildings, including ours, depicted on one of their dinner menus. In the event, we could not return to our house until late 1945, having to wait for the Americans to leave and restitution works carried out.

We then moved back to Curdridge again, this time to the Shorts a in Lockhams Lane. Space was short here, the four of us had one room in which to sleep and live in, however at least we were a little distant from the main thrust of the blitz. By this time, mother was helping full time at father鈥檚 shop and I continued at St. Mary鈥檚 College commuting by bus and often hitching a lift by lorry from Botley.

The Shorts were rather a strange couple, Mr. seemed to be watching us all the time and Mrs. had a rather mannish haircut. If we did anything to them that appeared wrong, the hot water supply would mysteriously be turned off! Again, rather like our stay in Bishops Waltham, we did not feel overly welcome but nevertheless we stayed put until about 1945 when the war ended.

I can remember in June 1944 watching what seemed a cloud of towed gliders taking British parachutists to France just after D-Day which was on the 6th June. There was also a huge build-up of mainly US troops and vehicles parked alongside the lanes, plenty of opportunities of saying 鈥済ot any gum chum?鈥�. Gradually the troops disappeared, obviously travelling on to the many embarkation points on the south coast and from then on to the invasion beaches in Normandy, I hope they all made it.

At sometime after our stay at Curdridge, grandmother and her companion moved to Mead Villas in Kingsgate Road, Winchester ( how is that for memory! ), this must have been after her house was blitzed and they were to stay there until well after the war until their house was rebuilt. Aunt Alice, mother鈥檚 sister moved to Reading to work in the Vickers ammunitions factory for the remainder of the war. Prior to this, she had a hairdressing salon in Woolston in partnership with her good friend Dorothy Willsher, aunt Doffie as she was known to us, but the effect of war and bomb damage meant it had to close.
I believe great-aunt Allie remained at the Gamblin鈥檚 farm at Curdridge for the remainder of the war, her house likewise being demolished by a direct hit. My other grandmother, small Nannie, went to stay with her son Alex and his wife Dora in Swindon during the main time of the blitz.

The war took its course and ended with VE Day in May and VJ Day in September 1945 but it was to take some while before things got back to normal. We as a family were not able to move back into our own house in Woolston and so we rented a house in Leighton Road quite near father鈥檚 shop. We had to wait until the US Navy vacated our house and all restitution works were carried out which from memory would have been about late 1945.

So what was it like for civilians existing during the war? Well it was tough, obviously not so severe as the poor men serving abroad in the various theatres of war but still there was much disturbance, fear and privation. Many families were torn asunder through evacuation, war service or by loss of loved ones but through it all there existed a tremendous camaraderie or esprit de corps, everyone was prepared to help one another because there was a common objective. It is so different today as I write this, the large majority today appear to think nothing but of themselves, striving to increase their material wealth with no thought or time to devote to others, I know this is a sweeping statement and there are of course notable exceptions, perhaps it was ever thus, just the ramblings of an elderly man!

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