大象传媒

This story was submitted to the People's War Website by Alison Tebbutt of the Derby Action Desk team on behalf of Richard Tadman and has been added to the site with his permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

'Experiences of a boy aged seven to age thirteen in 1945 during World War Two.'

At the declaration of war my father decided to move his family from Polegate in Sussex inland to a village named Loose just south of Maidstone. He thought we would be safer away from the coast, but we were in fact right in line with the German Luftwaffe bombers on their daily raids to the london docks. We were, I am certain, in greater danger than if we had stayed at Polegate, even the Germans called this part of Kent 'Hells Corner.'
The battle of Britain started on August 1940 and finished in October, it was on August 20th that Winston Churchill said the famous words praising the allied aircrews 'Never in the field of human conflict was so much owed by so many to so few.' At our village Council School we spent long periods in the underground air raid shelter, sitting in the long tunnel bravely trying to recite our multiplication tables out load against the background of aircraft machine gunfire and the heavy crump of anti aircraft gunfire attempting to shoot down the swarms of enemy aircraft. Four of the oldest boys were always seated near the entrance to dig us out in the event of a bomb falling onto the shelter.
After school we would scavenge in the nearby playing field picking up spent bullet cases and pieces of schrapnel from the many shells that had been fired from the big anti aircraft guns sited in fields about one mile away. Prized souveniers were the nose caps, these were considered good for bartering with other gatherers to swap for rare items that were brought into school.
Empty 50 gallon oil drums were situated in the field. The intention was to stop enemy aircraft from landing there, these were of course considered good play things by us boys. A field kitchen had been built in the field for the purpose of using it if any families got bombed out. While hop picking we watched many fighter pilots descend to earth by parachute after being shot down.
Like many of the village boys I joined the Loose Swiss Scout Troup. The Scout Master, Jack Barcham Green was an amazing man who owned a local Paper Mill. He spent hours with us encouraging us to do 'our bit' for the war effort. This involved collecting waste paper and empty jam jars from houses with our trek cart (a two wheeled builders cart) and depositing them back at our Head Quarters for collection. We still went on camps with him and would be encouraged to help the farmer with harvesting the corn into stooks. Occasionally we would learn of the site of a crashed fighter plane, and start scavenging among the metal and bullets for much prized souveneirs. When noticed by the farmer or Scout Master we were told in no uncertain manner to leave everything alone as the fuel and bullets were still in a dangerous state.
As the war progressed we helped with clearing up bomb damaged houses. On one occasion we helped to remove the rubble from a house that received a direct hit from a V1 flying bomb known as Doodle Bugs. 2,400 V1's fell in Kent, 200 more than on London. As preparations for D-Day increased, convoys of British, American and Canadian troops drove through the village on their way to the coast. We would stand and wave to them, sometimes getting sweets or gum thrown to us.......
I learnt a lot at school, not academic perhaps, but a lot about man's inhumanity to man.

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