大象传媒

A child's view of Aldwick at War

One must remember that the war years to a young child of six, can only be described as a great adventure, I was far too young to understand the severity of the situation.
I can still remember clearly war being declared on the third of September 1939. Father, mother, sister and myself sat in the kitchen in front of our new Echo wireless receiver which my father had purchased to replace the old battery set, to hear the news. My father said, "Oh dear we're in trouble now". I asked him what it all meant, he tried to explain to me that it was all down to the bad Germans, and their leader, a man called Hitler.

After that things seemed to move very fast. My mother found some heavier curtains for the windows to stop the lights from showing after blackout. Very soon we were advised to prepare for evacuation as we lived about 300 yards from the English Channel . Mother packed two suitcases, and my father returned from the grocer's carrying a bag of provisions, and a large tin of Smiths crisps. I became quite excited, as having a bag of crisps was quite a treat. I was soon brought down to earth when he explained that they were rations, only to be used in an emergency if we had to flee from the Germans if they landed on our coast. Various rumours were circulating, that they could be expected at any time.

It was also the end of my excursions to the beach. Defences were erected, comprising of large quantities of barbed wire. On the beach itself large pieces of scaffolding were erected to stop landing craft coming ashore, and large concrete blocks to be used as tank traps. There were also pillboxes to hold machine guns,
The top of our fence at the bottom of our garden was also heavily wired. The ditch from the local duck pond to the beach, which ran beside our cottage was also fortified. I remember asking the soldiers what they were doing, and I was told, "If the Germans come they are sure to come up your ditch".
I do think at this stage I must mention the dreaded gas masks. We were advised to wear them occasionally to get used to them, in case of a gas attack. I couldn't wait to get mine off, goodness knows what would have happened if there had been a gas attack. My sister's mask was of the type where the child was placed inside. I can remember peering at her through the perspex observation window, the poor little thing was crying her eyes out. After she had grown a little, she was issued with a Donald Duck mask, I can't remember whether she liked that one or not, thank goodness we never had to use them.

Then in the summer of 1940, began the battle of Britain. We were then in the front line of the war, with massive German air raids on Ford and Tangmere airfields. One of the heaviest raids being the Stuka bombers' attack on Tangmere on 16th of August 1940. I used to sneak outside the cottage into the garden to watch the dogfights in the clear blue skies overhead, only to be dragged indoors by Mum, time and time again, to take shelter under the stairs. On one occasion I can clearly remember what I presumed was the rattle of falling bullets hitting the corrugated roof of our shed.

One night my father returned from work during an air raid, my mother, sister, and myself had taken cover under the stairs. He was very excited, explaining to my mother that it was like November 5th outside, and could he take me out to see the spectacle. I pleaded with her to let me go, and she reluctantly agreed. Once outside of course I didn't want to go inside again. Up in the sky were flashes and explosions, with various coloured flares falling downwards. Only too soon my father said we must go indoors as Mum would be getting worried.

We had only just stepped through the back door, when there was a massive explosion. A land mine had dropped about three hundred yards away, in a field. I was told later that there was a herd of cows in it at the time, and that not one had been killed, but I cannot confirm the truth of this story. Of course there was damage to property, we lost upstairs windows, my poor mother was sure the end had come, the air was filled with smoke and soot. This was the nearest the village came to disaster, so we counted ourselves very lucky indeed.

In early summer of 1944 the build-up began in preparation for D-Day. The whole area suddenly became a military garrison; the field alongside our cottage was filled with troops living under canvas, with a large field kitchen situated beside the stables. Convoys of military vehicles seemed to be passing continuously through the village, but suddenly as if by magic, they were all gone, and we were soon to learn where! On the 6th June 1944, we became aware of the heavy drone of aircraft, running into the garden with my mother and sister, we were to observe a spectacle that will never be seen again. The sky was full of aircraft, some towing gliders. Wave after wave passed overhead heading across the English channel. D-day had begun!

Having managed to survive the war hostilities, I could still have easily lost my life to friendly fire. The incident occurred at Pagham Harbour two miles west of Aldwick, parts of which were again open to the public with the war in Europe near its end. During the war part of the harbour was used as a military range, the area to the east of the harbour mouth along the shingle bank was the main target area. There had been placed in convoy fashion a number of old military vehicles, including a tank. These would be attacked from the air by aircraft. Even today, the evidence of this activity can be seen, large dents and holes in the rusty metal work beside the large pond near the harbour mouth. On approaching the area, one was confronted by a large red painted warning board, advising the public to keep off the range when the red flag was seen to be flying. I and two friends failed to see the flag, to be honest, I doubt very much if we bothered to look for one.
Heading straight for the tank, my two friends went below while I, being self appointed tank commander, remained with my head sticking out from the turret. We quickly became absorbed in our war game, fighting the last tank battle with the Germans. Suddenly I became aware of the noise of an aircraft engine, not the steady drone of aircraft passing by, but the high pitched scream of one in a dive. Looking up, to my horror I saw that it was diving straight at us. Suddenly the pilot released a burst of cannon fire, thankfully his aim was not too good, as both missiles hit the harbour mud about ten yards away.

I immediately issued orders to abandon the tank, every boy for himself! My friends made off along the shingle bank, and I in blind panic ran into the harbour mud, the tide was out at the time, so it was a frenzied dash to get as far away from the tank as quickly as possible! The pilot must have seen us, as he was last seen flying away in the distance. Perhaps somewhere his report on the incident could be found even today.

Finally looking back, it seems only yesterday that these events took place, how time flies! Now at the age of 72 I still live in the same cottage, having married and raised 4 children there. Often I look up into the blue summer skies and remember those gallant young airman who sacrificed so much for us. Let them never be forgotten.

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