大象传媒

This story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War site by volunteer Stan Grosvenor from 大象传媒 Radio Cleveland on behalf of Harry Foster and has been added to the site with his permission. Harry Foster fully understands the site鈥檚 terms and conditions.

Sandbags and Senior School

I left Coatham Church of England Junior School at the age of 11 in 1939. I didn鈥檛 pass the 11 plus examination, although later on I did go to University and enjoyed a successful business life. Up to Jan of 1940 we lived opposite Sir William Turner鈥檚 Grammar School.
Folk always say that they know where they were when JFK was killed 鈥� I鈥檝e always remembered where I was when war broke out. I was a choirboy in Coatham church when the vicar announced it.
On leaving Juniors we had all been told which Senior school we would attend. I was supposed to go to West Dyke Road school, but for me this was eventually changed to the James Mackinlay Secondary school when the air-raid shelters were ready.

We enjoyed an unusually long summer holiday that year, near enough six months, but were kept busy nonetheless. We had to report to the beach alongside Majuba Road, where we helped to fill sandbags from the area that is now the large car park: we kids held the sandbags whilst the adults filled then secured them 鈥� we must have done thousands. It is said that the hill on the adjacent golf course became known as Majuba hill because an old Boer War veteran said that dodging the flying golf balls there was worse than dodging the bullets at the battle of Majuba Hill.
So I eventually started Senior school. We went for mornings only, usually from 9 o鈥� clock to noon. If the sirens sounded the 鈥楢ll Clear鈥� after midnight, then the following day we did not report until 10am.

Delivering the Milk

In those days most kids had an eye for a bit of business, we had to, and we were always on the lookout for earning a few pennies to buy sweets; they weren鈥檛 on the ration at the beginning of the war. I made friends with a lad called Ken Wright who delivered milk, so that got me connected to Ramshaw and Huddlestone鈥檚 Dairy in Peirson Street and I would help deliver milk every weekend to earn a few coppers. When the men all went off to the war, women took over the rounds. Us lads were very welcome as, not only did we know the rounds well, but we knew how to handle the horses that drew the milk carts; a lot of the women were afraid of them so there were yet more opportunities. In those days it was essential to be reliable and punctual and to travel quite a distance. Old ladies demanded that their half pint bottles be delivered fresh for afternoon tea at the other side of town.

A Lovely Lady

My favourite was a mare called 鈥楲ady鈥� and she was a lovely old lady too, and usually very placid. There was one spot she didn鈥檛 like though: it was a box at the side of Borough Road. At the start of the war there was a lot of house building there and the box was to hold the workmen鈥檚 tools. My Lady did not like it one bit and would speed up to get away from it. One day she took off so fast that by the time we got to Warwick Road we were hurtling along like a chariot 鈥� Ben Hur come to Redcar! The houses were in different stages of construction, (and stayed like that until after the war) so perhaps that would unsettle the horse too.

I remember the Dairy Secretary, Mrs Turnbull, was very kindly to me, very supportive and considerate. I remember her well because most folk treated kids as nothing more than a nuisance in those days.
We did in fact earn more than just a few pennies. My first Christmas tips came to 拢3. 11s 0d., about double what dad earned in a week. I counted it over and over again, just like Scrooge.

Coatham Churchyard Bombed

My dad James, worked at Dorman Long Warrenby Works and that area was bombed early on in the war. Houses near to the Works were hit and Eddie Jenkins and his family came to live near me as their house was destroyed. As with all the dads who stayed at home, mine had to have an extra job and he became a Firewatcher. My first memory of the raids on Redcar area was him shouting 鈥済et under the bed鈥� as he left to carry out those duties. That was the night a bomb fell on Coatham churchyard. What I remember most of all was how the bombs screamed as they came down, because of the devices fitted by the Germans.

Putting the Messerschmitt back

One day a German Messerschmitt bomber (later publications said it was a new type) came over the coast. Dad was out walking with baby brother in the pram. They ended up sheltering in a ditch as our fighters attacked. The bomber crashed near Lockwood Beck. The Home Guard was despatched from Redcar to round up the crew who had parachuted. The men were gone for a very long time and the story goes that bomber crew and Home Guard were eventually found boozing together in the Jolly Sailors inn.

The RAF sent a special vehicle to recover as much as possible of the remains of the wrecked aircraft. Down in Redcar, the truck went so slowly past the James Mackinlay school that the kids were able to jump aboard the trailer and 鈥榬escue鈥� most of its contents. Later a high-ranking officer visited the school and explained that the RAF needed to examine as much of the remains as possible to determine what materials the Germans were now having to use, for example instead of metal, so that we could determine what was in short supply. He asked us all, as our contribution to the war effort, to bring back all the bits that had been nicked and to put them into a parachute which was put on the floor of the school hall: the following morning it was full!

The Big Raid

The big raid on Redcar came on 21 October 1941. Dad came back home to check on us and to be sure that mum Eleanor, baby brother Roderick and I were all in the Morrison Shelter, which was in our front room. This was the night that the Zetland Club was hit, also Dr Robinson鈥檚 House which was next to Sir William Turner鈥檚 Grammar School (where the Health Centre is now located. His housekeeper was killed although he escaped death at home 鈥� he was in the Club where he was killed along with fourteen others. In Queen Street that night, just about where it meets Elliot Street, the house of Redcar Golf Club Pro Hughie McIntyre was also hit. Even today you can see, by the difference in brickwork, where the rebuilding of that terrace took place subsequently. Hughie had gone out for a whisky and survived, as did his two daughters, Betty who was in my class at school, and Evelyn and also their mother

Zetland Club destroyed

After the 鈥楢ll Clear鈥� I went out to find out where the bombs had dropped but completely missed Queen Street. I made my way to join the large crowd at what had been the Zetland Club, where the huge pile of rubble was still being searched for survivors. A copper said 鈥淵ou鈥檇 best be on your way home son鈥� and moved me on.

Redcar Memorial Garden

The sights and sounds of that night have stayed with me over the years and I always felt I should try to do something positive as an act of remembrance. By the time I retired to Cleveland after years of working away, I had determined to try to achieve a memorial at the site of the Zetland Club.
My efforts culminated eight or so years ago, in the laying out of the memorial garden on the site, and the placement of a plaque recording the events of that 1941 night. It seems most appropriate too, that the town war memorial is just on the other side of the road.

漏 Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.