大象传媒

VE DAY REMEMBERED

This story was submitted to the People's War website by Doreen Bennett on behalf of Neville Harcourt Paddy, the author and has been added to the site with his permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

8 May 1945, an evacuee girl from London named Annie and I were sitting on a wall above the waterfall in the leat leading to Truro鈥檚 Victoria Gardens. From the outset of her evacuation from London in 1940, we had become pals and later sweethearts.

During the war years, the waterfall became one of our favourite places. During one cold winter its cascading waters froze over and icicles formed. On balmy summer days the spray from its turbulent water cooled our naked feet as we dangled them over the edge of the wall. A nearby railway viaduct and a giant lime tree shaded the area in the afternoons and kept it cool from the summer sun. Sadly, due to the blackout restrictions, Mr Lance the old lamplighter didn鈥檛 come this way anymore, to light the old gas lamp during the twilight hours.

We had been just two of the many thousands of children that due to the mass evacuation from London had been literally thrown together during those dark early days of the war.

Brothers and sisters and other relatives left their homes to join the Armed Forces, work in factories or on farms as Land Army Girls. Of course we were worried and scared, who wouldn鈥檛 have been when news bulletins announced the ever-increasing death tolls from the bombing and destruction of out towns and cities. The RAF and the Luftwaffa fought to the death in the skies over our heads and we cheered and saluted the pilots as they performed victory rolls in Spitfires and Hurricanes. We soon lost count of the merchant ships that were sunk by the German U-Boats, which was Hitler鈥檚 method of trying to starve the British people and bring the country to its knees.

But through it all we kept our humour, laughed a great deal, whistled and sang both at work and play to keep our spirits up. We tightened our belts and made do with what we had. Restrictions of most commodities became acute and the nation had to go without many of life鈥檚 basic essentials. Food rationing meant we only consumed what the weekly-allocated coupons permitted you to receive, and if you didn鈥檛 eat what was placed on your plate, then you went without. The acute shortage of clothing coupons in families, had the youngest children wearing patched clothing and hand-me-down cast offs.

1940鈥檚 Evacuation from Dunkirk and the commencement of the Battle of Britain by the RAF had brought the fear of invasion from the Nazi鈥檚 unstoppable war machine ever closer. Whether it was your turn or not for a nights blitz from squadrons of Luftwaffa bombers, the terrifying droning noise of the bombers combined with wailing sirens had most people fleeing and spending the nights in air raid shelters. Successive nightly raids were extremely disturbing and upsetting for children of school age, especially when whole families found themselves crammed together inside steel mesh Morrison air raid shelters for several hours. However, my mother like many others, preferred the comfort of a chair when having a cup of tea under the staircase.

Gas mask drills at school became as regular as visits from the 鈥榥it鈥� nurse and propaganda posters soon replaced the flowery art drawings of peace time upon classroom walls. Teachers made us draw picture, with coloured crayons, of men being killed on the beaches of Dunkirk, Spitfires shooting down Messerschmitt 109鈥檚 and Churchill Tanks destroying German Panzers. The headmistress declared:鈥滳hildren should understand the realism of war, it is no good telling lies and hiding the truth鈥�. In the school assembly room we always felt better after singing 鈥淭here鈥檒l always be an England鈥�, 鈥楲and of Hope and Glory鈥� and 鈥楯erusalem鈥�. We queued up regularly to receive our doses of Cod Liver Oil and Malt and during winter months seized every opportunity to warm our frozen chilblained hands over the one and only coke stove.

Daylight nuisance raids by enemy fighter-bombers had kept everyone living in fear when going about their daily business. On 6 August 1942, the pilots of two Luftwaffa fighter/bombers saw an easy target when spotting children playing in Hendra playground. Both aircraft opened fire with their cannons and as the children ran for their lives, a high explosive bomb struck Truro鈥檚 Royal Infirmary. Seventeen lives were lost either in the Infirmary bombing or the second fighter/bombers bombing of two houses in Agar Road 鈥� two killed. Cannon fire upon the railway station killed a postman and a railway worker. One hundred and fifty men, women and children were injured and 10,000 panes of glass had to be replaced in the city.

Lord Haw Haw in his nightly broadcast 鈥楪ermany Calling鈥� described the bombing of the hospital as the pilot mistaking the hospital鈥檚 laundry stacks for a factory. Clearly the pilot had not seen the huge Red Cross painted on the roof.

However, the war was in its third year and like all of Britain鈥檚 war torn peoples, they had become wise to German tactics. It also became a topic of conversation that the traitor Lord Haw Haw would most definitely hang when the war was won. The British public was never fooled by Nazi propaganda. The 鈥榥uisance raids鈥�, as they were known, were just another example of Germany鈥檚 terror policy against the British people.

We had experienced the arrival of the US Army in the autumn of 1943, when tented camps, trucks, jeeps and khaki uniforms came among us with miles of camouflage. From late Autumn 1943 until June 1944 we lived shoulder to shoulder and tolerated the constant noise of electricity generators and acrid smell of diesel oil. The 29th Division consisted of black and white American troops and the policy of this invasion of the Yanks was clearly to keep the local population happy and welcoming. This was an Army of suntanned healthy young men, who were energetic and out to enjoy themselves when about town. It did not take long before they were walking out with the local girls, drinking the pubs dry and jitterbugging all over the place with the help of the Glen Miller sound. Every available drill and dance hall held dances, but if packed to capacity and unable to gain entry, they were content to jitterbug with local girls on the pavement outside.

On the 2 June 1944, the US Armies sudden order for all troops to be confined to barracks, left many sad girlfriends standing alone in half-empty dance halls. The talk of engagements and becoming GI brides suddenly appeared insignificant. The great Allied Armies gathered and made final preparations to unleash the greatest battle in the history of mankind.

Two days before 6 June 1944 the US Army left as they had arrived in long convoys of trucks, jeeps and motorcycles. Amphibious craft left their moorings on the Truro and Fal Rivers and headed down towards Falmouth and the open sea. Towed behind each amphibious craft were long lines of fully laden concrete barges containing various cargos. The electricity generators that had worked noisily and unceasingly for months on end, suddenly stopped and the pubs, dance halls and streets of Truro fell eerily silent.

The newspapers and the wireless covered every aspect of the great event 鈥極peration Overlord鈥� taking place on D Day, 6 June 1944. American, British and Canadian Forces had attacked the beaches of Normandy, given the names of Utah, Omaha, Juno, Gold and Sword. Hardly anyone missed reading the daily newspapers or failed to have an ear cocked listening to the news reports on the wireless. Brave men were dying on the beaches and all we could do was to read and listen to what was taking place just a few miles across the English Channel.

The high casualty figures of so many brave men fighting in ferocious battles on the Normandy coast made us realise the terrible cost that had to be paid for our freedom. Telegrams were already being dispatched down country lanes and up terraced streets to mother and fathers who had lost their sons. Of course we cried, after all we had heard their laughter, seen them as lovers and witnessed their carefree happiness in the good times. Important to us kids also, we had experienced and appreciated their kindness and generosity as they gave their rations of chewing gum, chocolate and candy. It was difficult to believe that so many Americans had been killed on Omaha Beach and would never laugh, love or jitterbug again.

As the battles raged in Europe and every yard gained appeared to cost another life, in and out of school, we thought about peace and what it would be like when it came. Annie said her greatest joy would be to see the street lights and shop lights on again, but my greatest joy would be my peeling and eating a banana.

8 May 1945 had been a sunny and warm day. Rumours had spread like wild fire that the war was coming to an end at any moment. The belief was that it was only a matter of days before Germany surrendered and that peace would be ours after six years of war. The whole country鈥檚 war torn population had been for some time preparing street celebrations. Small potions of rationed food had been set aside and stored with a crate or two of bottled beer. There was also whisky, port and sherry saved from Christmas.

As Annie and I continued to sit on the waterfall wall, we heard a voice call from a street not far away 鈥淭he war is over. Gerry has surrendered鈥�. A shunting engine having pulled across the railway viaduct sounded its whistle repeatedly and within a moment, Truro鈥檚 Cathedral and surrounding Churches commenced ringing their bells. We heard 鈥楾here鈥檒l always be an England鈥� being played on a trumpet from some way off, which was closely followed by the sounds of people cheering and singing with Mr Lamerton, of the Truro Town Band, beating his large drum. Lou William鈥檚 Barrel Organ began playing 鈥楻oses of Picardy鈥� followed by 鈥楲ili Marlene鈥�.

Whilst this was all taking place Annie and I were jumping up and down on the wall and yelling repeatedly 鈥淰ictory in Europe is ours. We have beaten the Germans鈥�. With faces flush from our excitement we set off running to where we lived in Hendra but by the time we reached St George鈥檚 Road, the whole of Hendra鈥檚 population had spilled out onto its streets. It was as though everyone had gone crazy and become deliriously happy. Musicians had collected on the corner of the street and under the direction of my violinist father, Jack Paddy, they were quickly formed into a band.

Eddyvean Livanchy鈥檚 van, with its built in gramophone and roof attached speakers pulled into the children鈥檚 playground and was soon blasting out the music of 鈥楾he Hokey Cokey鈥�, 鈥楰nees up Mother Brown鈥�, 鈥楥an You do the Conga鈥� and 鈥楾he Military Two Step鈥�. Annie and I joined a line of laughing and singing people and set off doing the Conga up and down the streets. Players of saxophones and clarinets joined the players of accordions and violins and played 鈥楾he White Cliffs of Dover鈥� and 鈥榃e鈥檒l Meet Again鈥�. for those who were waltzing and singing

By the time darkness had descended everyone in the city had joined in the partying and street dancing. Blackout blinds were taken down and every electric bulb in rows of houses was switched on. After six years of blackout it was a strange sight indeed, to witness the streets ablaze with light for the first time since 1939. The town band and the Salvation Army band were playing up and down the streets and endless lines of those doing the 鈥楥onga鈥� danced in and out of every house in the street. Lou Williams moved his barrel organ from street to street and continued playing old favourite Great War songs. No one wanted the night to end and if Annie and I had had our way, it never would have.

The dark clouds of war that had blighted everyone鈥檚 lives for far too long had at last been vanquished. The pubs did not close until they had run out of drink and the dance bands that had been playing in every drill and dance hall since teatime only interrupted their non-stop music to get refreshments. The bunting and the flags were everywhere, and as strangers continued kissing strangers, everyone hugged everyone else and danced the night away. Some of those wearing uniforms were carried around shoulder high. This was a night that all those present would remember until their dying days and as the dancing and singing continued in the streets, house parties began and continued long into the night.

The celebrating of VE Day had been a wonderful spontaneous event; even the passing of sixty years has not erased my memory of it. I have always remained proud of what Britain and its people accomplished through all the adversity of war. The sacrifices that were made on our behalf by British, American and Canadian Forces can never be repaid. They lay down their lives that we might live in peace and freedom.

As a child of the war, I can remember the feeling of fear that every child experienced in the terrible war. We lost of great deal of our innocence in six years of war and suffered greatly from its deprivation. Bombs, bullets and doodlebugs do not discriminate. The German bombing of St Marychurch Church in Torquay in Devon on a Sunday Afternoon in May 1943 was an example. Twenty one children were killed on that lovely summer鈥檚 day whilst attending the Church Sunday School. Those innocent children will not be forgotten and will be remembered in my sixtieth VE Day prayers and celebrations.

As always, in a quiet moment and thoughtful moment on the 8 May 2005 I will once again hear Lou William鈥檚 barrel organ playing 鈥楻oses of Picardy鈥�. Once again I will have a vision of the time I sat on the waterfall wall with Annie and as always memories will come flooding back.

Annie left Truro for London just a few days after VE Day. I stood alone on the station platform and with tears streaming down my face, waved her goodbye as the train moved off through billowing smoke and steam.

I never saw Annie again.

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