大象传媒

Mr Allen is willing to have his story entered onto the People's War website and agrees to abide by the House Rules.

As I have a very retentive memory, with some skill of recording events of my past life in stories, which have been complimented by many well-known persons, I have been persuaded to tell my version of a very interesting account of my experiences arising during the war years 1939 to 1945.

I had better give some background information of my personal qualifications. I was born 1st October 1920, so in September 1939 when the war began I was 18 years old, and quite well educated, and may I add was a very popular young man who had been a good leader amongst a group of youth around Saltash. Although I was the 'boss' of many young men, I had unfortunately suffered from 'infantile paralysis' later to become known as polio. Despite this disability it had encouraged me to show my young fellows I had to prove my superiority in many ways through such activities as sports as captains of cricket, football, even marathons and distance running, etc. I had also progressed at schooling and had been a success in the minor scholarship (at 11 years) thereby achieving a place in the Cornwall County school, in the new building at Cross Park, Saltash.

When the war began, I being unfit - Grade C for military service, was left in my job as apprentice at E. Dingle and Co Ltd. However, I did enrol in the Saltash Homeguard and marched all over the town and exercised wherever I was required, and that involved me in duties during every night of each week. Once this was fire-watching in the Plymouth store of Dingles, and at least twice a week on Home Guard duty at such stations as a night watch on the Saltash ferry, or as look-out in an old car chassis at an advantage point at Whitty Cross at Trematon or a night patrol on the rivers Tamar and Lynher; or guarding the rail bridge over Forder Viaduct on the main line to Cornwall, or even guarding the Homeguard Headquarters. On such nights I had some rare experiences.

Whilst firewatching at Dingles, which was compulsory at least once a week, I spent one evening on the roof of the store during a big air raid when I could see great fires covering the town areas from Ebrington through toward Friary Station, and giving us firewatchers such frightening prospects that our turn was imminent. Fortunately however we were spared and we only had one incendiary bomb falling on our roof which Mr ????, who was our leader, managed to deal with and extingush. Our ordeal passed when the 'All Clear' later sounded and we could go home for our breakfast. The next day at work I was given the job of re-outfitting Mr De Quincey and his son, who had lost everything at their flat in the shops store at St Theresas, which was being used to hold various items of goods needed in the main store where we were watching. I had to work late to finish their requirements so had to refuse the Manager, Mr Gullett, who asked me to return the same evening, as only the night before I had been doing my own fire-watching turn and was therefore too tired the next night. I was so late in finishing the DeQuinceys requirements, that I could not give them the list I had made out in my order book and after getting DeQuincey's signature I put the order in my pocket to hand into the cashier the next morning. However, that evening there was an even bigger air-raid on Plymouth which I could watch from my home in Saltash, and early the next morning I met my friends Bert Hudson and Ronald Bordiss and we made our way to the Rail Station at Millbay, Plymouth. The sight we met was horrendous and the destruction was horrid. We managed to make our way along Millbay Road, but reaching George Street we could get no further, so by making a detour around Westwell Street we managed to get into Bedford Street where we saw John Yeos and Dingles, all burning and slowly disappearing below ground. I managed to cross the street between the Prudential Building and Dingles and dodging the fire hoses etc I looked down and saw the cellars of Dingles still flaring up towards us. As I still had Mr DeQuincey's purchase list I thought all the goods I had sold him could have perished in the blazr and would therefore be lost. I might just as well not bother with any charge to him, so I threw that list into the fire. I haven't seen him since by the way!

Another experience I can recall is to do with the Homeguard River Duty I went on one night. As you might expect we needed motor boats to travel up and down the rivers, and these boats were provided and manned by Plymouth Corporation, presumably from their Barbican Headquarters. Two more guardsmen were in charge and one fine night Tommy Musto and I were delegated to take charge of the boat to which we were allocated. All went well, but just after we set off in preparation of patrolling the Lynher River, the air-raid siren went off and, as the boat had to be secure because any movement on the water could be seen by aircraft, the Navy men had to take shelter by securing the boat alongside an ammunition-barge shed, just off the land only about half a mile below the royal Albert Bridge. There was quite a lot of air activity over the Dockyard not too far away from where we were secured, and we heard and observed much gunfire from land batteries on both sides of the river and also frequent gun fire from the Polish Anti-Aircraft ship HMS Edysnyk(?) We saw and heard all that went on, but we were not perturbed in any way so that when after an hour or so the all-clear sounded we went on our way around by Pointfields and above Anthony Bridge before returning to Saltash Pier as the dawn broke. But my story has to be recorded when the next evening, still with the Home Guard, I was with Gish Thompson to patrol an area around the railway station, when the air raid siren once more made us realise we were still at war and in a vulnerable area. The German aircraft were obviously targetting our area and seemed to be aiming their bombs over the Royal Albert Bridge or the armaments depot at Ernesettle. It was really terrifying to see and hear the planes circling just over our heads and we could see the bombs actually flying close over our heads at times. Fortunately, they had landed several in the river when, all of a sudden, there was a terrific explosion which ended both Gish and myself flat out on the ground just on the bridge which was above the railway station. It was very frightening and all of a sudden we were showered with rivets and bits of metal, which had blown off the same ammunition barge which I had been secured to only the previous night. Talk about a strange coincidence, I thought I had been so lucky. Gish and myself were very thankful we could report back to Fred Goad at our Headquarters at the Star Hotel when the all clear at last sounded. I had once again been spared.

A few days later Saltash was a target for the Luftwaffe and I was once again on duty and asked by Fred Goad to patrol the part of the street from the Star Hotel to Sinops Corner, only about 100 yards down below and the target was obviously Saltash Street. I and Sydoly Smale had this patrol and it was a night I will never forget. The German planes were all over and above us and first of all used their incendiary bombs, which caused many fires which soon took hold, and guided their bombing planes to loose many high explosives which shattered the old vulnerable buildings all around both sides of the street. The damage these bombs caused was considerable and Syd and I were caught in the blasts the bombs caused. Whilst outside the Saltash Co-op and Widecombes Stores, the old fronts and casements, mostly wooded types, became shattered and loosed and we bacame almost buried under the rubble. Fortunately we were both undamaged but I did lose my tin helmet which blew off my head (never to be recovered again) but nevertheless we were both very frightened. Seemingly a stick of bombs had exploded each side of the main street, and as soon as we could we were able to offer our help or services where required. Widecombes Store was damaged and help was required to evaluate people who were injured or whatever, amidst the ruins. An Air Raid Official told us they would require stretchers and asked us if we could rush to St Barnabys Hospital and bring back one or two stretchers needed in the removal of the the victims. We both volunteered and rushed up to St Barnabas (in Port View Road) and from the lady nuns we 'borrowed' one or two large stretchers to take back. We ran back down Port View Road, but getting into the Esso Road Junction I could no longer keep up with Syd and had to pull out and just made my way to Mrs Ralph's house where she was sheltering with my sister Gladys. They revived me with a cup of tea (most welcome) and Syd carried on to Widecombes(Fred Goad's house) where his wife and daughter had unfortunately been killed but his brother Arthur was pulled alive from the wreckage and I met him later when he was convalescing.

That night Saltash was rudely blitzed and the town became just a shambles. My Uncle Charlie and Aunt Em were killed in their home at the top of the town and I felt so sorry for them as only earlier they had received the news of their son's death on HMS Bonaventure. He was also named Jack Allen - the same as me! Most of the main buildings in the street, the Star Hotel, the Picture House, the Wesley Church, and the YMCA, were all destroyed by fire or blasts and many private houses and stores also lost.

Home Guard duties took up many calls on my time during the war years, and one of the main items was the Sunday Parade and march from our Headquarters through the main (Fore) street, along St Stephens Road, through Cross Park, then Forder, to the Firing Practice Range from below Forder viaduct across the river into the targets inside the old quarry which bordered the river. It was seemingly a very safe place to aim and fire our 303 rifles. Further down the river on Forder Bridge was a favourite place for old people to sit and watch for the trout to arrive and seek their outings into Forder stream and on to the creek. Well, one afternoon Tommy and a distant relative of mine were sitting on the bank just resting. Incidentally, he was an old retired barger who used to navigate the River Lynher, taking blue Elvin stone from Scaffords Quarry to Camels Head Dock, for Mr Crosley of Anthony Passage on one of his barges such as Alice, Ruby or May, to be shipped by coastal vessels either around the UK or even at times to the continent. Well, much to my relative's surprise one of the bullets ricocheted via the quarry or a bank along the river, and hit him in his knee causing him great distress so he became a casualty of war and needed hospital treatment . When he knew I was one of the Home Guard squad he swore 'blue' that it was me who was responsible and had fired the shot from my rifle. I, of course, denied him but he would not accept any apology whatsoever!

Continued in Part II - Story A7748571

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