大象传媒

This story has been written onto the 大象传媒 People's War site by CSV Storygatherer Kate Langdon on behalf of Harry Warr. They fully understand the terms and conditions of the site.

Born on 6th December 1933 I can remember quite vividly the day the war started. I was in my grandfather's bedroom, he was laid low with pneumonia. The radio was on and we were listening to Mr Chamberlain. He said that we were at war with Germany, then the awful sound of the air raid sirens was heard.

Some 12 months later my mother and grandmother told me we were going to Scotland to live with my aunt and uncle. Mother's side of the family are from Edinburgh.

We got on a bus to take us to King's Cross Station. London had been bombed that night so our journey was disrupted by bomb craters, fires and rescue services. Eventually we got on a train, very overcrowded, packed with soldiers, sailors and airmen. We eventually made Waverley Station in Edinburgh after numerous stops and diversions to allow troop trains, etc to proceed.

Settled into our new home in Winchburgh, West Lothian, I was enrolled in the village school, something I have happy memories of. I maintain I learnt more in the time there than at any time in the future.

Going to bed one night we were woken by a massive explosion and all the glass in the windows coming out. The German bombers had targeted the oil works and dropped a parachute mine causing extensive damage. Us lads were dressed and out at the crack of dawn looking for souvenirs, especially pieces of the parachute which were made of silk, highly valued to make into clothing.

Eventually moving back to Twickenham I was accepted into Fortescue House School, a part of Shaftesbury Homes. I was a bit unruly; mother making munitions at the Chiswick Bus Works, father in the navy and grandparents trying to keep me on the straight and narrow. The discipline was good for me and I really enjoyed my time there, learning the usual subjects, but also how to make shoes and repair them. I was with the school 1942-43, during which time we were in and out of air raid shelters. How we learnt anything amazes me.

Finally we were evacuated to somewhere near Martlesham, Suffolk. A big mistake as we were within walking distance of a US Airforce Base. One day playing football a P47 Thunderbolt crash landed in an adjoining field. Luckily the pilot was unhurt but badly shaken.

We soon found ourselves back in Twickenham, only to be uprooted again and taken to Pontefract as a V1 landed on our cricket pavilion just after we had completed a soccer match. Twenty five of us were in the bath when the bomb struck, dust and dirt everywhere and cuts from the window glass, even though they were bricked up.

We were put into a camp that had been intended for Bevin Boys - luxury for us. I can remember going over the fence and pulling up licorice root (Spanish Wood) as we were adjacent to Wilkinson's factory, and having lectures from the head about damaging the war effort.

I was in Pontefract when the war in Europe ended and vividly recall the bonfires on the beacons which we were allowed to watch and the pleasure of seeing street lamps being lit after so many years.

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