大象传媒

I was fifteen years old when war was declared. Petrol was immediately rationed and the only vehicles allowed on the roads on a Sunday were Armed Forces or essential services. Such cars had to have a windscreen sticker. i.e Doctor etc. With traffic free roads this was a wonderful time for cyclists, who turned out in their hundreds. My mates and I would meet at 8am, and off we would go along the recently made East Lancs Road to Southport or around the Cheshire lanes to the delightful little village of Lymm, which was very popular with cyclists. Another favourite run was to Hardcastle Crags in Yorkshire, where there was a roller skating rink and riverside walks. After a full day out we would be home for tea at 5pm.

In those days mealtimes were an important event with most families and it was unheard of to be missing at meal time. After tea we would change clothing, meet again, and walk into town to parade on the Chicken Run. This was a popular street where small groups of teenage boys and girls would walk up and down laughing and talking, not in the least bit worried about the blackout. The street would be thronging with teenagers, and in most towns this was happening every Sunday evening.

These happy times ended for me in December 1942 when I was called up for the Royal Navy. It was a dark bitterly cold frosty Monday morning when I went to the station with my travel voucher to go to H.M.S. Glendower at some place in Wales, PWLLHELI.
After a long train journey, changing trains four times, I arrived at Peny Ghent, a small platform, half a mile from the Camp. The sun was shining, it was a lovsely country walk, and it felt like another world, after icy, foggy, industrial Lancashire. I did thirteen weeks basic training at Glendower and then went to The Clyde in Scotland to begin training as an R.D.F. Operator, a name later changed to RADAR. The train journey to Scotland was on unheated trains with no catering. We had packed sandwiches and relied on drinks when we stopped at main line stations. The hot drinks were provided by The Salvation Army free of charge. I have never forgotten their valiant work done for the men and women on the trains.

To continue our training the next Camp was H.M.S. VALKARI at Douglas Isle of Man. Our divisional officer was a great chap. Very strict, but usually ended a meeting with a joke. More than once he would say "And remember the name's not Peewee its Pertwee!". He was of course Jon Pertwee. Watching him on television in later years brought back happy mrmories of the Isle of Man.

Merchant ships and Troops ships were now fitted with Radar and ASDIC, they could cruise at 18 to 20 knots. I joined the crew of a merchant ship at Liverpool and off we sailed alone to America. There were times when we had to sail in Convoy and we hated it, the speed of a convoy is governed by the slowest ship, usually 8 knots, and although we had good escorts, we felt like sitting ducks.

To sum up, looking back at "The Dark Days" my memories are the magic of the early years of the war, the travelling round the world and the comradership and friendliness of the people.

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