大象传媒

This story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War site by RICHARD FIELD on behalf of PAUL WILKINSON and has been added to the site with his permission. The author fully understands the site鈥檚 terms and conditions.

By Paul Wilkinson
(as related to Richard Field)

Evacuation

At the start of the war my parents, concerned that Swansea with its docks and steelworks would be a prime bombing target, considered sending me and my two sisters, Ruth and Anne, to Canada for safety. It was probably just as well they decided against it 鈥� the risk of crossing the North Atlantic was probably much greater than staying put.
Instead the three of us were evacuated from our home, a vicarage in seaside suburban Swansea, to Abergwili Palace, the home of Archbishop Prosser, in rural Carmarthenshire. The Archbishop (my father was once his curate) was a saintly man, a bachelor but with no experience or real understanding of children.
I was four, Anne was six and Ruth was seven when we and our mother moved to the Palace 鈥攁 huge house with vast grounds.
We were joined by about a dozen children from Rotherhithe in London鈥檚 dockland. Their whole school had been evacuated. We were all accommodated in the servants鈥� quarters. We slept in the attic and ate in the huge kitchen. Our rations were all kept in labelled jars 鈥� one for jam, one for sugar and so on. We were given Horlicks each day 鈥� my first introduction to this beverage.
The three of us joined the others at their school and so I started my education at what was effectively an inner London school! We came under the stern control of Miss Tinsley, a dragon-like headteacher who was much feared by all the children.
The younger ones of us were supposed to lie down on a camp bed after lunch. I took exception to that and kicked Miss Tinsley while she was trying to make me lie still. After that I became a hero in the eyes of all the other children!
For all of us, this was an introduction of us townies to the countryside. We roamed the huge grounds, ferreting and netting rabbits (which afterwards we must have eaten), and we ate beech nuts (I can still remember the taste).
Outside lessons we played a lot of war games. The most popular was being victims of bombing. Rita (my particular friend) and I, being the youngest and the lightest, were always the casualties. We were stretchered away and then operated on by Meccano scalpels and swathed in bandages made of scarves and other bits of clothing.
I remember two occasions I was in disgrace. Once I drove my toy car over Mr and Mrs Innes鈥檚 flower beds. They were not at all pleased!
But my biggest disgrace came when I stole one of the Archbishop鈥檚 apples. It was not that we were kept hungry but obviously there were few luxuries and very little, if any, fruit.
One day I was passing the large dining room of the big house and could see a wonderful bowl of fruit in the centre of the table. Temptation overcame me and I clambered through an open window and helped myself to a beautiful red apple. I was about on my third bite when a maid came in and caught me in the act. She marched me straight into the Archbishop鈥檚 study where I was given an almighty rocket and castigated as a thief. Needless to say the remainder of the apple was confiscated!
But that wasn鈥檛 an end to the matter. The Archbishop wrote to my father informing him that his son was a thief. My parents were upset at his insensitivity and lack of understanding and, as the bombing didn鈥檛 seem to materialise, we soon afterwards returned home. (Incidentally, in later years, the Archbishop was very kind to me and took a great interest in my well being, and probably helped influence me into becoming a clergyman)
We left Abergwili and returned home - just in time for three days and nights of non-stop bombing of Swansea!

The blitz

Every night people came out from the city centre and the east end of Swansea to our house for safety reasons The cellars of our house were reinforced and an extra access/escape hatch with a ladder had been cut through our dining room floor.
Instead of us being evacuees we were in a sense now a refuge. In our 20-roomed house we gave shelter to families, some quite long term 鈥� some from Swansea and some even from London.
The nearby Churchmen鈥檚 club also provided food and shelter with people sleeping on and under the billiard tables.
Not that our house was a sanctuary from the war. We had coastal defence ack-ack guns on the nearby cliffs and and they regularly fired over our house. There were Z-guns at Ashley Road which we could see from the house.
We were directly across the bay from the city centre and the fires there were such that you could read the newspaper in the middle of the night 鈥� the glow could be seen for many miles around.
The bombing of Swansea was devastating. I remember being taken to see it. I particularly remember the huge pile of rubble which had been Ben Evans department store. I remember I was particularly concerned about what had happened to the pets corner, which was always a favourite of mine. 鈥榃here have all the rabbits and parrots gone?鈥� I asked my father.
One really frightening experience came on a Saturday morning when I was in the back garden after choir practice. A small German plane flew over so low that I could clearly see the lone pilot. I thought he was going to shoot me 鈥� but he鈥檇 come to shoot something else 鈥� to take photographs of the previous night鈥檚 raid. He flew in completely unchallenged.
The main targets for the raids were the Docks and Landore railway viaduct 鈥� the main transportation artery to West Wales where there were air and naval bases especially at Pembroke Dock and Milford Haven.
The whole of Swansea鈥檚 central retail and commercial centre was flattened including my future school, Swansea Grammar School, and St Mary鈥檚 Parish Church, where my uncle (who was a curate there) had his bike destroyed!
I well remember one day going in and out of my primary school air raid shelter. The alarms and all-clears were so frequent that it was deemed too dangerous to send us home.
Each day we were obliged to take our gas masks 鈥� I very quickly graduated from a Mickey Mouse type to a small version of the adult respirator. We carried them in a cylindrical tin which acted as a portable seat at school assemblies. For some time we had to practise putting them on and taking them off at the beginning of the school day, but as soon as we learnt to make rude noises with them, the drill ceased!
Back home we moved our beds downstairs into the large entrance hall of our house so as to be near the front door and cellar entry. Like everyone else all our doors were left unlocked and I remember one night being woken by a policeman who stood at the bottom of my bed and asked if my father was in. He said the invasion had started and wanted my father to go and ring the church bell 鈥� the signal that the Germans had landed. This he duly did, but, of course, it was a false alarm.
However the next morning some German bodies were washed ashore in Gower. Where they鈥檇 come from I never got to know. Also about this time I remember seeing the conning tower of a U-boat quite close in to shore off Langland Bay.
During this time we had our grandfather (The Rev Hugh Thomas, whose last living was at Cosheston, Pembrokeshire) staying with us at the vicarage. He was quite a character. I remember he always refused to move to the shelter when the sirens went. 鈥業鈥檇 rather die comfortably in my bed than go there鈥� he used to say.

Leading up to D-Day

We were delighted to have an American Army camp nearby and they would visit us, parking their truck outside school at break time. We鈥檇 all troop out onto the street and yell 鈥淕ot any gum chum?鈥� Chewing gum, chocolate and candy would come raining down 鈥� luxuries we never saw in shops.
One lasting Mumbles memory of the American GIs was the fight that took place in Fortes Ice Cream Parlour, when a sergeant by the name of Rocky Marciano (then unknown) punched a black private clean through one of the large plate glass windows.
Then one day all the GIs had gone. Swansea was one of the embarkation points for the second invasion wave. One day the whole of the bay was full of ships together with a large number of flat barge-like vessels. These were the parts of the Mulberry Harbour which in fact had been manufactured in Swansea -one of the fruits of the 鈥渉ush-hush work鈥� going on at the Elba steelworks.
The next day the bay was empty 鈥� though later a number of torpedoed wrecks were brought close in shore ready for the breakers yard and recycling at the other side of the bay.
Just at the end of the war someone brought a sackful of Lugers (German pistols) into school which we all gleefully waved around 鈥攂ut all were quickly gathered in and placed in safer hands! But we all had souvenirs 鈥� bullets, shrapnel, etc. and I was given an unexploded incendiary bomb which had landed on Swansea Docks. I kept it on the sideboard and was quite cross when many years later Mother disposed of it.
Again at about that time there was a mass breakout of prisoners-of-war from the prison camp at Bridgend about 25 miles away. My close friend, Vernon and I armed ourselves with sticks and went hunting for them in the greatly overgrown churchyard. All were eventually rounded up but none due to us! Most in fact gave themselves up within a day or so.

How we amused ourselves

But it was not all bad for us children. In the summer we always had the sea to swim in 鈥� even if we had to keep a wary eye open for Germans!
Then there was the Tivoli Cinema. The newsreels were especially popular. In one someone recognised a young local soldier firing a field gun 鈥� so everyone wanted to go to see him. And his parents were very proud and relieved to see him safe.
As a family we spent many evenings in Rupert Stratford鈥檚 optician鈥檚 consulting room. The room was completely blacked out and we spent many hours playing cards and table games. Afterwards we used to find our way home using torches which gave out only a very thin beam of light which we pointed straight to the ground to avoid attracting the attention of the air raid warden.

The end of the war

I well remember all the street parties but in fact I was a bit annoyed by it all. I had to accompany my father and mother as they 鈥榙id the rounds鈥� of these parties. The problem for me they never stayed long enough for me to get anything to eat!
I remember seeing an effigy of Hitler in Wellington boots hanging on the seafront 鈥� and it was later burned.
I remember VJ-Day because we were away having our first holiday for a long time. We went to Brecon, a big barracks town. I recall with some amusement seeing lines of soldiers lying on the pavement all paralytically drunk!
A final memory of this time was seeing the first banana boat sailing in to Swansea Harbour. Everyone knew what was on board, and days later there were long queues at the shops as children got their first taste of a fruit they鈥檇 only read about.
Bananas were OK, but nothing very special 鈥� that was my conclusion!
I was nine when the war ended.

END

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