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Ronald Cook, born 1933, near Stroud, Gloucestershire

A younger brother and sister made up the family.
I suppose my memories of the war are one of freedom and excitement.
Living on the edge of a National Trust area of common land gave me the opportunity to wander off and explore and when I wanted.

My father had volunteered at the start of the war and was somewhere in France. Rationing did not play a great part in my younger days as my grandmother had a large house with apple and pear trees and it seemed at the time hundreds of chickens so there were always plenty of eggs and meat.

There are four things that are stuck in my mind even today. Firstly, having just gone to bed when we heard a car stop outside the house; in those days the only people who had cars were the doctor, a man who lived in a large house across the other side of the village and the police; the local bobby had a bicycle. Anyway, being nosy children we looked out of the window and saw a soldier coming in the gate. I can remember my Mother shouting and laughing, it was my father. The thing that impressed me at the time was that he had his rifle, a pack and gaiters around his boots. He told me later he had been evacuated from Dunkirk, being taken off by a cross channel ferry, put on a train, not knowing where they were going and left. At one of the stops he looked out of the window, saw it was Stroud station, got his kit and just walked off the train. He was home for three days, went back to the station and got on the next troop train.

Next thing was the arrival on the common of a searchlight battery, and lots of soldiers; the village must have suddenly doubled in size. We did not have air raids so never had to go into an air raid shelter, although my aunt had an Anderson shelter in her garden — it was always wet and smelly but made a great den to play in.

We used to stand outside some nights and watch the fires and bombing in Bristol; being just 25 miles away as the crow flies, to us at the time it was just a big fire and quite exciting as we could hear the planes going over and watch our searchlight working.

There was always talk of spies and fifth columnists, people were warned to be careful what they said, so being children we were always on the lookout for strangers and unusual things. Imagine out excitement one day when looking in the base of an old tree and we found a pair of binoculars, a torch and some packets. We took the torch and glasses home to Mum, proud of out find and becoming most upset when she took them off us and went to the Police. We were convinced that we would catch a spy, but looking back I believe they had been stolen and hidden away. Then the Americans arrived, a huge sprawling camp, of very small tents surrounded by barbed wire. It was a magnet to all the children in the district, chocolate and chewing gum. It was out first place to go after school. Alas, it only lasted three days; they suddenly left as quickly as they appeared — looking back now I realise it was the invasion troops moving south.

There are memories of potato picking, being off school with impetigo and being covered in purple paint (gentian violet) on holiday at Weston Super Mare when war was declared, Dad coming home after three years in North Africa and Palestine. Going out at night and seeing all the fireflies on the banks, there were no lights then, everything was dark. I do not think I was ever hungry and cannot recall missing oranges and bananas.

(Collected by SBC Museums)

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