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This story has been written onto the ´óÏó´«Ã½ People’s War website by CSV Storygatherer Carole on behalf of Richard Trude. The story has been added to the site with his permission. Richard Trude fully understands the terms and conditions of the site.

Born 1922, in 1939 I volunteered for ARP messenger. I was seventeen and as soon as the siren was sounded, I got up, got on my bike and reported to my post NO2A rear of Woolworths and the Red Lion in Old Town St. It was manned by day by a full time warden, by night by just 2 part-time, as there were few people living in the City Centre, and because of this when I was 17½ I was asked to become a warden to make part-timers up to 3 because the area was divided into 3 sectors. I was sent on a course on Mutley Plain to learn First Aid, light rescue, etc, the normal age for wardens was 18.
I passed my course and was given the sector which was the island of Popham’s, Spooner’s and Dingle’s. It was hit very hard by incendiaries and all the fire watchers were evacuated to the shelter under the Corn Exchange which was part of the Meat Market. During one of my patrols with another warden we noticed that there was a large hole on the second and third floor; continuing on our patrol around his sector
Then returning to mine again we turned the corner by the Corn Exchange and there was a huge explosion and the whole of the wall blew out. We had it down as a delayed action bomb, just one of those lucky escapes of the war.
On another occasion I saw fires beginning to creep to Old Town St, so I ran for the Fire Brigade and told them. They sent an appliance there only to find that their stand pipes did not fit — it was a brigade from Manchester.
On another occasion I was with my friend where he worked and did fire watching every other night. The siren sounded so I made a dash along King St going to my post, and reflected in all the shop windows were fires from incendiaries. Everywhere seemed to be on fire, it was like passing through Hell. A lot of properties were destroyed that night.
I worked as an errand boy, then I worked for a time with a small builder, and we were building a shelter in a back garden. It was a lovely day with a cloudless sky. On hearing engine sounds I looked to see several German planes circling — this was before the bombing started.
In 1940 I changed my employment when I heard that RB Stanley wanted men to work on the building of the airport. One evening going to an incident I met my foreman who expressed great surprise to see what I was doing at night during air raids.
In February 1942 I was called up to Dorchester to join DCLI. In February 1943 I was in North Africa in the First Army ending up in Cap Bon at the end of that conflict.
I was sent as reinforcement to Salerno, Italy, and joined the Hampshire regiment fighting up through Italy with the American 5th Army, there was a brief spell in the Middle East and a return to Italy to the 9th Army on the Adriatic side, then over to Greece to assist in the Civil War, back to Italy again and on up to Austria as an occupying force, then home to my discharge in March 1947 — 5 years service. In 1951 I joined the Devon Regiment TA, serving 17½ with the rank of sergeant, then into the Cadet force for a further 21 years, ending when I was 67 years of age and a captain.
My employer was the City Council, and among the things I did was to carry one of the city maces on ceremonial occasions, and I also carried the standard of the Devons for a number of years from which I just retired, handing over to my deputy at the age of 82.

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