大象传媒

This story has been submitted to the People's War Site by Joan Smith for Three Counties Action on behalf of Roy Chappell, a visitor to the Bedfordshire County Show on July 9th 2005. The story had been added to the site with the author's permission, and he fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

I was five years old when war began and in 1941 I arrived in Anstey, Hertfordshire, to live with my grandparents over the pub. The first sign of war that I saw was a doodlebug passing over the playground, which I told the teachers about, and I saw the occasional dogfight in the sky.

Later a lot of big lorries started to come through the village laden with dirt and wood and trees and we learned from this that they were chopping down the wood at the edge of the village aat a place called Nuthampstead, and it was to be the site of a big airfield. Many new people came to the village - tree fellers and similar. The built Nissan huts and made concrete runways, and huts to house American servicemen. This was of course of great interest to the children of the village and we were never bored. Then it seemed like chaos, with hundreds of men arriving in funny looking uniforms and bringing chewing gum.

They all seemed to be very fond of children, and because of them we had a wonderful war. We never wanted for anything, and they would give us sweets galore. I would sometimes get a meal there, even in the officers' mess -' Hey, kid, you want to go for chow?'. I remember having sweetcorn, and eating so much that I was absolutely full, but then they brought a large bowl of fruit cocktail which I wasn't going to miss.

Because we lived above the pub we became friendly with some of them. They brought us chocolate and fruit - oranges and bananas. We got quite friendly with the cook, known as Pip, and he would invite me into the cookhouse and once he gave me a large tub of icecream to take home - of which only about half was left when I got home. The Americans would give parties for the children with sweets, presents and entertainment. We saw Bob Hope when he visited the camp. There were some black American servicemen but they didn't mix.
There were Military Police who were quite harsh and quick to stop any trouble.

As children we had complete freedom in the camp and were allowed to go anywhere. The planes when they arrived were P38 Lightnings. We would watch them landing and taking off. Eventually they left and they were replaced by Flying Fortresses. I was allowed to see round one and the co-pilot allowed me to start her up and then take her down to the hangar - the only ten year-old to start up a Flying Fortress.
There was an office called the Battle Headquarters and once when I was there they told me to answer the phone and pretend that I was a girl, for a joke.

Once a Flying Fortress crashed on the village and there were fatalities. Three are buried at Maddingly. I found a parachute among the debris which I later sold.

The camp later became a POW camp - once a POW borrowed my bike!

Every two years the 398 Bomber Group return for a reunion, and there is a family record centre which holds the historical records. I am a member of the Friends of the 398. As a thank you gesture for what they had done for the kids of the village I decided I'd like to pay for someone from America who couldn't normally afford it to visit the village. The president gave me a name and arrangements were made.

漏 Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.