大象传媒

This story is by Louie McClean, and has been added to the site with their permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions. The story was collected by Joyce Gibson, transcribed by Elizabeth Lamont and added to the site by Bruce Logan.
====

The following are a few of my reflections, having lived through the Second World War 鈥� dates I don鈥檛 know 鈥� but there you are! We didn鈥檛 possess a radio then so I had no sense of foreboding, until the Sunday when war was declared and I was sitting in church in Rosemary Street (which beautiful church was to be burnt to the ground during the Blitz). I had much enjoyed attending there. The minister announced the awful news during the service, quoting the famous words of Chamberlain, that we were 鈥渁t war with Germany鈥�. My next memory is coming home from school for lunch and being told that Dunkirk had fallen and Father rather sternly declaring that we were next. Preparations for our defence were accelerated and Father鈥檚 house was a first-aid post, we lived next door, so we were going to be affected. Father built a concrete shelter in the back garden, at that time the price of a decent car! When the sirens went carpets were to be rolled up and preparations made for casualties. When the sirens did go in the spring of 1941, the men, women and children made their way up the Bloomfield Road in droves to the fields around Orangefield Lane: the noise was quite frightening. We adjourned in our night attire.

Granny lived with us then and I remember my Mother bringing her valuables with her in a wooden tomato box. We sat there and I suppose we had candlelight. I can still feel the tenseness and the strain my Mother and Father must have gone through. Anyway, during one awful raid when east Belfast was targeted we could hear bombs whizzing down and then the awful explosion. One air-raid shelter got a direct hit and thirty-three people were killed, not five minutes walk from our house. A neighbour鈥檚 son who was an air-raid warden was killed. Molotov cocktails rained down and one lodged in the sand between the ceiling and the wall of the shelter 鈥� we heard a swoosh! And flames began licking across the roof of the shelter. Of course, we all dashed out at the most dangerous time and I remember seeing neighbours鈥� attics on fire. These memories are so vivid. I, being the eldest, ventured down the Bloomfield Road after the All Clear had sounded to see Bloomfield Avenue ablaze 鈥� that was the Ropeworks 鈥� and it was just across from the shelter which got a direct hit. Everywhere seemed to be on fire: it was a terrible night.

My next recollection is that of being evacuated to Glenariff Glen to Senator Maguire鈥檚 house, which was also a farm. This took place in September of 1941, when I was attending Bloomfield Collegiate School. I think about forty-odd pupils went, one of them was my very young brother of six and a half who was very attached to my Mother. I don鈥檛 think big sister quite understood but my brother was very unhappy. We were away for the school year and never another raid! For me it was a great experience: being older I had more freedom and was able to cycle round the Glens and visit Cushendall, where there was ice-cream and a few sweets to be had. My parents came to visit us each month by bus and we would have Sunday lunch in the hotel at Cushendall. They brought us goodies. They also had to go to Dungannon to visit my other brother who was at RBAI.

I was in a dorm with two others and had some quite good fun. The teachers from school visited us in rotation. This meant two weeks concentrated English and then two weeks concentrated Maths. We had a French teacher who travelled from Ballymena, by bus, of course. Her sister came at times to teach Domestic Science. We also had visits from the local Church of Ireland clergyman: our main source of amusement was punching his hat flat: we also thought he fancied Matron. She was quite strict and must have had a rotten time. There was also big gangly farm-hand and we gave him quite a bad time. Smoking under a small bridge is another memory, though I can鈥檛 remember where the cigarettes came from. Then came college, flat irons, powdered egg, coupons for material for dressmaking. White鈥檚 mile bar for break and chocolate pancakes. Saturday evening dances on a very heavy floor at the College of Technology and then VE Day 鈥� 8th of May. Tremendous celebrations, mostly spent at Queen鈥檚 University - no money, no transport, arrived home on a train, the earliest possible, and tip-toed into my home.

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