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This story was submitted to the People’s War site by Hillary Ross of the Chineham Learning Centre on behalf of Agnes Stone and has been added to the site with her permission. The author fully understands the site’s terms and conditions.

I was born and educated in Fife, Scotland. At school there was talk about there being another war. Logie Baird had invented the television; my father had explained the details to me.

In July 1939 my brother along with a family friend decided to go on holiday to Germany. My brother thought he would be called up when war broke out and wanted to know the area. Our holiday was a tour of the Rhineland with Blue Coaches. Our driver and courier was a Belgian and advised us to all stay together throughout the tour. Everyone was Scottish apart from one Englishman, but no one knew or guessed who he was. On our way throughout Germany there were signs on hotel doors and shops saying ‘No Jews Allowed’. Unfortunately, the bus broke down when we were on our way to visit Brahms place of birth. The men folk went out to wait and help the mechanic, and later when I went out to get some fresh air, I saw a small man having a blanket put over his head. My brother ordered me to get back into the coach, as it would soon be off once again.

The bus was flying the British flag, but the German Youth Movement ignored our Heil Hitler sign as we passed by. We stopped at Cologne overnight. After dinner, taking a stroll around the town we stood by a stall eating a frankfurter, when an old lady walking towards us was looking in every waste paper bin for food, but she would not accept any money (Marks the men offered her).

We spent three days in Wiesbaden. On our last night there my brother, friend and I went to a Beer Garden and sat at a table enjoying the evening and drinks. Two American approached and asked to join us as they were on their way home and were pleased to hear English voices.

One was a travelling companion to the millionaire’s son who bought us each a glass of champagne. His name was Jack, and he offered to take me back to England just in case war broke out. My brother refused, saying we were with a coach party and were returning home too. Next day reaching the Belgian border we were halted by a German soldier armed with a rifle who entered the bus and slowly walked up to the back of the bus and down again looking intently at all the passengers seated. With a sigh of relief we watched him step down off the bus and signal the sentry to let us pass though.

On September 3rd war broke out. We watched the RAF chase a German plane up the coastline when the Germans attacked the Firth of Forth Railway Bridge. My father, mother then moved us to Glasgow and from my bedroom window I saw the Red Cross train, fully equipped with doctors and nurses, leave to help the people of Coventry when it was badly bombed. The next day our Air Force went down to Coventry in readiness for another attack, but the German turned right and attacked Glasgow. One young mother, running from house to house with her baby was hit by the bombs, as was the Singer Sewing Machine Factory. It was an anxious moment. My brother had taken me into his garden and seeing the sky bright red with flames told me to listen and I would hear all the planes make for the fire.

Call up came for me. I had to report to Glencorse Barracks for Service. Here I was kitted out with uniform and had to sit three tests. I was then put down to serve 3 years with the Artillery. Oswestry was my next station where we formed an Ack Ack Battery. Trained and drilled on a Parade Ground, after 4 weeks we went to Holyhead, Anglesey for gun practice. I was then a Height and Range Finder, having formed the 467th Heavy Mixed Ack Ack Battery which was then sent to Newcastle-on-Tyne to defend Jarrow Docks, during which time I was sent to Brigade, Gosforth. Rejoining my Battery a year or so later, we moved to Scotland for a rest period.

Eventually, we assembled at a gunsite – Helensburgh but were suddenly told to pack and label our kitbags as we were travelling overnight by troop train to the South. We landed in a country lane where men cooks had cooked a meal awaiting our arrival. The C.O. was waiting for the dispatch rider to arrive with his orders. We were to take over the gunsite, Marchwood, defending Southampton docks.

It was impossible to shoot down the doodle-bugs. The first rocket to hit England stood in our Camp. Southampton was badly blitzed. The 8th army was camped behind us, as was the American Army. Forces were gathering in that area. We were not allowed to go beyond a certain area. Already, the Battery had been signed and prepared to go to France. Because of the rockets, our gunner could not leave the guns night or day and the ATS who manned the Command Post was on duty 24 hours, all day and night. We used to trace the Germans at night as they dropped mines in the English Channel then inform the Navy. The RAF, when the doodle-bugs came over, used to fly up and with their wing tips, tumble the doodle-bugs into the sea. Churchill was visiting the area and all were awaiting the word Overlord and D-Day.

Years later my husband finished with the Army and was an MOD policeman CAD Bramley. It was a quiet Saturday afternoon and I was sitting at the table doing a crossword, when looking through the window I saw this plane flying low coming towards my window. I raced outside into the garden and as the plane passed overhead, I look up to the pilot looking down and smiling, I waved. Then suddenly the plane went straight up and over the roof of my house. Later I discovered that President Jack Kennedy had paid an unexpected visit to the Police CAD, Bramley, and had told them that he had enjoyed his visit as he had many friends in England and had got a wave from a friend in her garden.

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