大象传媒

The image attached to this story cannot be viewed for moderation or technical reasons

I have no memories of air raid attacks on the Rhigos Ordnance Factory. In particular I remember the winter snow, ice, gale force winds and heavy rain, together with rising mist and fog. Due to the protection of the hills and mountains it was likely that the Germans found sea ports and railway junctions easier targets to stem the ROF output.

From the map Beacon Road (8) is on the left hand side of the Rhigos Road looking in the direction of Hirwaun. Beacon road was of concrete construction and wide enough to allow a bus or lorry to pass between the front gardens of the bungalows. To enable vehicles to pass there were a couple of lay-byes. This road was built about forty feet above the level of the Rhigos Road, with an access road descending to join the Rhigos Road by one of the ROF entrances, which had a manned security office. Three quarters of the length of Beacon Road in the Mountain View direction, was the other access road, which descended to join the Rhigos Road nearby a house known as Bryn Hir. At the top of this access road, the general shop was situated to supply all of the residents in the factory living areas with their needs. Beacon Road continued past the shop, still with houses on either side of a vehicle turning area. From there was a steep descending pathway, to give access to the second entrance factory gates. From these gates, it took about seven minutes to walk to Mountain View. The other gated factory entrance beyond Mountain View was next to the coal washery. The back gardens of the flat roofed bungalows in which we lived, were separated from the ROF by the high wire meshed boundary fence, which allowed us to see the two 0-4-0 shunting engines moving coal trucks and goods vans up and down the factory railway line to various places. The names of these green painted standard gauge steam engines being Megan and Blodwen. Another interesting thing which I have not seen since those days, were the green articulated Bedford Busses, which were used to carry people about the factory. The name of Morlais of Merthyr, who used to transport the coal miners to and from the pits in their utility Bedford OB's with wooden slatted seats, was a frequent sight.

My sister Shirley and I both went to Rhigos School and took sandwiches with us for lunch until the school canteen was built. I have not forgotten the two ice cream cornet size servings of mashed potato, which were served with a brown stew, consisting a rubbery meat and carrots. There was also the much hated semolina pudding, with something looking like a flat dog biscuit, or a spoonful of jam in the middle of it. Then there was the dreaded rice pudding! I remember the afternoon after we'd had rhubarb and custard for dinner and were being taught how to do long division decimals, when a boy put up his hand and asked the teacher if he could go to the toilet. The teacher who was working the sum out on the board, told him to wait until she had finished. After a short time passed the boy shouted and dashed towards the classroom door with an evil smelling brown liquid dripping out of his short trousers and down his legs. I burst out with laughter as a couple of teachers cleaned up the mess and as a result of my unrestrained mirth, I got caned by the headmaster for laughing at adversity.

The bus journey to Rhigos school started from Mountain View, with it coming along Beacon Road, picking up at Halt Close and Halt Road before stopping at the New Inn and Mount Road on its way around the village, avoiding the wandering sheep and their lambs. then picking up more children until it eventually arrived at the school. During the summer, a lot of us used to walk home from school by taking a short cut across the fields. Near to our bungalow was a lay-by and two large red brick air raid shelters with flat concrete roofs. By the side of them were large heaps of sand, which provided us children with much enjoyment, by climbing up a ladder on top and jumping off into the sand. Anyone who refused to do it was considered as being too scared and taunted by the other children.

On Sunday afternoon, Shirley and I were made to go to Sunday School by our parents. Afterwards, we would go to the Community Centre to watch the weekly film, which was usually a
cowboy film. Every Saturday afternoon, we went once a week with my mother to Aberdare Market and the Butchers. We usually sat down to a meal of fish and chips in the fish and chip shop close to Aberdare Railway Station, before going to the Cinema, where we had an ice cream or popcorn during the interval. The last Red and White bus to Rhigos left the Church in Duke Street at 25 minutes past nine, but did not go around Rhigos Village. However, there was a quarter past nine Western Welsh bus which did. Those people who missed the Red and White bus in Aberdare, could catch the last Aberdare Urban District Council bus to Hirwaun and be faced with the 2 miles walk along the unlit country roads with the field's drainage ditch alongside the single pavement. Those drinkers who failed to get on the last Red and White bus at Hirwaun faced the same prospect, which could be dangerous in mist and fog. As a matter of fact, one of our neighbours, after leaving one of the public houses in Hirwaun one night, failed to return home and was found drowned in the water filled ditch the following day.

After WW2 finished, my uncle Harry (Richard Henry Thorne) returned home to live with my Grandmother at Malpas Road. My uncle John had also come home. It was a strange experience meeting them, because I was only three when the war started. When my mother had arrived at the house, they had both been in work and I had heard my grandmother telling my mother that uncle Harry had told her that he was one of the lucky ones to have survived the war. Uncle Harry had got a job as an Electric Arc Welder at Braithwaites and when my mother introduced me to him, I asked if the war was like it was in the comics? He was in no mood for such na茂ve childishness and replied: 鈥淭he war is over now son and I want to forget about it and settle down in civvy street.鈥� My mother quickly took me into another room to see my aunt Maude and uncle John, whilst uncle Harry got washed and changed his clothes for tea. I told them that uncle Harry wouldn't tell me anything about the war.

My uncles, Harry, Ron and John were very good to my sister and I when we took it in turns to stay with them during the school holidays. In the understairs cupboard was a large box full of Meccano, with sets of wheels and gears, together with electric and clockwork motors. As a lad, I remember uncle Harry building me a large working model of the Newport Transporter Bridge and then later, taking me for a walk over the top of the real bridge, with the camera that I had been bought for Christmas. Not far from where my grandmother lived, was the Brecon and Monmouth Canal. I remember being bought an electric, battery powered model police launch for a Christmas present. Needless to say, that when my uncles took me up the canal for a walk, that I took my boat too.

As a lad, I eventually went to Y Gadlys, Secondary Modern School at Aberdare. One day, one of the officers from the 254 Aberdare Squadron of the Air Training Corps came to the school looking for lads to join it. With the consent of my parents I joined the ATC, but little did I realise, that what I had done would have such an influence on my life as it does today. By the age of sixteen, I was a Corporal cadet in the ATC and had got my 'A' British Gliders Association License to fly gliders. With the lack of decent career prospects for school leavers in Aberdare, I was attracted by the prospects of a career in the Royal Air Force. Although I had a keen interest in metal work at school, I was unable to get an engineering apprenticeship. Several of my friends went to work for the National Coal Board to be trained as miners, electricians and fitters. In favour of an RAF Career, was the prospects of a house if I got married. There were the prospects of furthering my education, learning a trade with promotion through the ranks. However, I could not enlist until after I was seventeen and a half years of age. In the meantime, I mamaged to get a job as a temporary junior postman delivering telegrams.

I have never forgotten the reaction from uncle Harry in the presence of my parents, when my mother asked his opinion about them signing the forms giving their consent for me to join the RAF. 鈥淕un fodder!鈥� he exclaimed. 鈥淵ou must be mad to want to sign away your freedom.鈥� I showed him the careers guide which the Sergeant in the recruiting office had given to me. 鈥淩ubbish!,鈥� he snapped, just as uncle John entered the room. Handing the book to uncle John he asked, 鈥淲hat do you think of this?鈥� After looking through the pages he remarked, 鈥淚t doesn't say anything about battle injuries or loss of life, does it?鈥� I mentioned that they had both survived the war alright! Harry remarked: 鈥淏ut there were hundreds of thousands who didn't!鈥� He then left the room and went upstairs to his bedroom and returned momentarily with his medals. 鈥淭hese remind me of the misery and hardship which my comrades and I endured during WW2. Not to mention the terrible deaths and war injuries. I saw many friends killed in action and wondered how it was not me. The sight of people's bodies and limbs scattered about the place by exploding shells is not something easily forgotten and at times I still wake up in the middle of the night after dreaming about the things which happened to us. Being in the Air Training Corps is one thing, being a regular in the
armed services is something entirely different. When I joined the army in 1926 and went out to India, it was a great experience in which I never saw a gun fired in anger. There were plenty of sports competitions, including: competition shooting, horse riding, football, cricket and boxing to pass the time between the North West Frontier Patrols. So what is said in that the RAF recruiting booklet is basically true, but it does not tell you about the risks involved,鈥� uncle John said.

Needless to say, that when I returned home and tried to talk to my parents about joining the RAF, I was told to wait until I was called up for National Service and then after doing it, make my decision. However, in the end they gave in to me and let me join up as a regular.

After serving six years in the RAF Police, I left and decided to take up a more rewarding engineering career in civvy street. I went through the Government Resettlement And Training Scheme and trained as a milling machine setter/operator on a six months course before being sent to work as an Improver for the English Electric Co, Stafford. The Amalgamated Engineering Union and time served Apprentices referred to people like me as 鈥淒ilutees, or Six Month Wonders鈥�, such was the status quo. Needless to say, that the pay rates reflected this situation. Although I attended night school and studied at my own expense, it would not be possible for me to get a supervisory post over time served people. Failure to be able to be considered for a supervisory post, even with the necessary qualifications, would have compelled me to remain as a machine setter/operator on piecework on the shop floor for the rest of my working
life.

Working for English Electric at Stafford involved living in lodgings, without being able to recover any costs from the income tax that I paid on my wages. To be able to meet the costs, I was compelled to work overtime. Problems started with strikes and work to rule when the firm had a cut back on overtime working and I started to look for an alternative career.

I was fortunate enough to be given the opportunity by the National Coal Board, to train as a Certificated Colliery Electrician which enabled me to return home to live with my parents at Cwmbach, Aberdare. I worked at Tower 4 and Nantgarw Collieries. However, by the time that I
had qualified and got my Mining Qualifications Board Electrician's Certificate, the NCB started a pit closure programme.

However, this was not really a problem for me, since now that I had my electricians certificate, I was able to join the Merchant Navy as a Junior Electrical Officer. So, for the first time in my life, at the age of 31, I was at last earning decent money with free meals and accommodation. However, by the time I had bought my MN Officers uniform and the other required items of kit, it had cost me 拢200.

I was very thankful for the help from Mr William Henke from the Cardiff British Shipping Federation Office, who had introduced me to Andrew Weir and Co, London (Bank Line), telling me that I would be away for about six months. On the morning of the 24th July 1967, I joined the MV Hollybank at Liverpool Docks and we sailed for Irlam on the Manchester Ship Canal. From there calling at the following ports:- Antwerp, Rotterdam, Hamburg (Dry Dock for repairs and painting of the hull), then on to New Orleons and up the Mississippi to Destrehan to load grain for India. We stopped off at Durban to load further cargo and bunkers. At Madras, we discharged part
of our grain cargo before resuming our passage to Calcutta. Whilst at Calcutta, I was promoted to Senior Electrical Officer and transferred to the MV Firbank. Before leaving the coast of India to head for New Zealand, we sailed to Chalna and Chittagong. After New Zealand, we sailed on to Australia. From Townsville we returned to Calcutta, stopping of at Penang. After leaving Calcutta we went to Chalna and Chittagong, before going to Trincomalee, Majunga and then on to Durban. We then sailed for the Magellan Straits, where we experienced terrible storms for about four days, with the main engine revolutions reduced to prevent the ship crashing through the towering waves. After eventually passing through the straits, we called at the ports of Valparaiso, Antofagasta, Iquqie, Callao and Guayaqil. Finally, we loaded sugar at Somanco and passed through the Panama Canal to discharge at New York. From there we went to Philadelphia, Wilmington, Lake Charles and Corpus Christi. Then on to New Orleans and up the Mississippi river to Destrehan to load grain for India. A newly promoted Master joined the ship to enable the present Master to return to the UK on leave and we then started the general cargo run all the way around again. So much for what Bill Henke had told me about it being a six month trip. Since we were all on 18 month articles, whether we liked it or not, we went to Calcutta via Durban. At Calcutta, the Indian crew and Chinese carpenter together with the Chief Engineer paid off. We were joined by a new Chief Engineer and
an Indian crew to resume our passage to New Zealand and Australia.

When the ship returned to the UK, I paid off in London on 29th January 1969. During my leave I visited Uncle Harry at Newport and discovered that he had Colitis and his health had started to deteriorate. He was now living alone, because aunt Maude had gone to live with her sister Florence. He told me about the time he had been working for Atlantic Ship Building as a welder, in
cramped, cold, wet conditions on the stern loading trawlers which they were building. I remarked about some of the WW2 books that he had in his bookcase about the 8th Army and the Desert War. He said that what was written about the achievements of our forces and the injuries so many of them received, left him sadly disillusioned with the British Government, when it came to their resettlement in Civvy Street. He considered that the Pensions and Compensation paid for war injuries was far too low, compelling proud ex-service people in financial difficulties to seek help from The Royal British Legion and other Armed Services Charities. He regarded his medals as bits of metal and ribbon given to appease him for his hardships, instead of giving him
the much needed money to resettle in civvy street. Back in 1926, many had joined the
Army because they couldn't get a job. Now, at the age of 58 he owned his own house which needed expensive repairs. Unfortunately, with failing health there were no job prospects. After
discussing his predicament with the Social Security Office, he was told that they could not help him until he'd spent his life savings. As much as I felt sorry for him, little did I realise
that life would later have a few unpleasant surprises in store for me too.

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