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THE GREENOCK BLITZ

The nights of 6th and 7th May 1941 brought the war home to me — the Greenock Blitz. I was eleven years of age when the air-raid sirens wailed out their eerie warning and when the first crunch of bombs was heard, my father realised that this was going to be something different. For the first time we all made our way down the garden path to our Anderson shelter. Before we got that length, there was a loud explosion and I saw flame shooting up from houses two or three hundred yards away. Suddenly I realised that this was real, and not necessarily something that happened only to other people. We all sat in the shelter listening to explosions on the ground and from anti-aircraft gunfire. Eventually, the all-clear sounded; I suppose it might have been after two or three hours. Father had spent some of the time standing outside at the shelter entrance, probably feeling that he had seen and come through much more in the trenches during the First World War. I pretentiously told the occupants of the shelter that it was really all the fault of the French whom I had decided had invented the aeroplane. When we emerged, I could see the orange and red reflections and the smoke from the fires all around. Our house was more or less undamaged and I am sure we all just went back to bed. In the morning father found an unexploded incendiary bomb in our garden and threw it further away from the house. It still didn't explode which was probably just as well. I went out on my bogie along and down Grant Street to Morton Terrace. Piles of broken glass lay in heaps at the side of the street and everything and everyone seemed very quiet. I picked up some small pieces of shrapnel which lay on the roadside and pavements. These were bright chunky, silvery bits of steel which I decided were fallout from bursting anti-aircraft shells. A woman asked me if she could have one of mine as a souvenir, which I gave her. During the bombing I don't think we had any protection from RAF fighter planes and I don't think any enemy bombers were brought down by anti-aircraft guns. The bombers had to maintain a reasonably high altitude to stay well above the many barrage balloons covering the town. The pattern of the Blitzkrieg had been established as a two consecutive night attack by the Luftwaffe on the same target. Our parents therefore decided that my sister and I should be sent out of town before the next night. We were despatched to the home of an Uncle and Aunt who lived in nearby Houston. During the night I knew that another bombing was in progress over Greenock and I could see the red glare in the sky from that direction. In the morning our Uncle Tom set off by car to see what had happened. When he eventually reached Bawhirley Road through the rubble, blocked roads, and fire engines, he must have feared the worst, for our house at number nineteen was almost totally destroyed. He eventually met up with my parents. They had been in the shelter. Mother was fine but father had a fairly deep cut on his face when he was struck by the shelter door when it exploded inwards. A parachute land mine had landed about fifty yards away right on top of another Anderson shelter. I later heard that only bits and pieces of the eleven occupants, including the Oliver family were ever discovered. A single finger with a ring was one such piece. The Olivers had lived in Hillend Drive directly behind us. A large water filled crater marked the spot for a number of years. Again, I heard that there had been some looting from damaged and destroyed houses; certainly we lost one or two items that way. Maybe it is something that Greenock would prefer to forget; but it happened. Such furniture as remained in the damaged houses was quickly collected in lorries and stored temporarily in church and other halls. Our parents moved into the home of my father's mother and his sister at 1 Inverkip Road, Greenock, and, after a few days, so too did we.

I went back to our bombed house and rebuilt my broken bogie. Walking among the ruins I was suddenly confronted by a policeman and I had to convince him that it was my home and that I was not a scavenger.

EVACUEES

After a few weeks Ann and I were packed off to Lochgilphead to stay with our Aunt Grace. We went to school there, (Lochgilphead Higher Grade School) which was I recall hugely overcrowded with evacuees such as myself, so that as many as three different grades occupied one classroom. While we were at Lochgilphead I accompanied Aunt Grace going to Lochgair on Loch Fyneside. Grace knew that her husband (Uncle Nicol) was on board a Troopship anchored offshore, and she was hoping that he might be able to come ashore. This did not happen. Aunt Grace hastily wrote a note to Nicolas we stood in the shelter of the church entrance. I then ran as fast as I could to catch up with some soldiers we had passed walking back to their embarkation point. I handed the note to them to pass on to Pipe Major Nicol McCallum. After a month or more at Lochgilphead my Aunt wakened me one morning to tell me that she had just heard that her mother, who lived on the east coast, had taken seriously ill and she would have to go to her that morning. Ann and I would move to Aunt Maggie's home at Tileworks Cottage near Kilmartin. We were put on the Oban bus and the driver was told to let us off at Ballymeanoch at the end of the Long Walk down to Tileworks. We now didn't have to go to school as there was no suitable transport and we had a great time, with cousins Billy and Nancy to play with, rabbits to chase, hens to feed, logs to saw, eggs to collect, and water to carry from the well. I had great regard for Aunt Grace. She had been a hospital matron and ran a stricter household than I was used to - I had to brush my teeth twice a day and have very regular baths! Aunt Maggie was more like my mother; as sisters would be. I recall these "evacuations" as a pleasurable experience although we missed our parents and eagerly received letters and packages. There was a prisoner-of-war camp alongside the Crinan Canal. As I cycled past, the prisoners gave me a wave. I think they were Italian and in later years, I reflected that they should have been; and probably did consider themselves fortunate to be sent to such a beautiful location; out of the war; possibly able to obtain a little more than normal prison rations: mind you, it would be a bit cold and wet in the winter. By autumn 1941, we returned to Greenock where our parents had rented a house only two doors away from our demolished house in Bawhirley Road. Incidentally, the rebuilding of our house was not completed until 1947. I went back to Greenock Academy to the surprise of some of the pupils and teachers. Apparently one of the boys had been sent off to see what had happened to our house during the blitz. He reported that it had been destroyed and our fate was unknown. There were now many gaps in the tenements and buildings throughout the town, mostly in the east end. Rubble had been cleared away and I could see that there was a huge amount of re-building work to be done. I was later to learn that two hundred and eighty persons, some of them whole families, were killed in the Greenock Blitz, and over twelve hundred were injured, many seriously. There could have been many more casualties were it not that hundreds, if not thousands of townsfolk got out of town or camped out on the hills before the second night. Of Greenock's around eighteen thousand houses, nearly ten thousand had been damaged and one thousand totally destroyed. We never had another air-raid on Greenock. I had seen enough of the results of the blitzkrieg to be thankful for that.

A NIGHT EXERCISE

For me and my pals there was one positive result from the bombing. All of the houses along Gait Street had been destroyed which left us to play football without incurring the wrath of anxious owners. Sometimes while waiting at Cartsdyke Station for our train to school we saw troop-trains of prisoners on their way to Gourock, maybe to be shipped off to Canada. The men were clearly distinguishable by large yellow patches attached to their uniforms. I was a member of the Cubs and later the Boy Scouts. Two or three of us were taken out on a "night exercise". It was pitch black as we made our way up the hill on Larkfield Road. It had been snowing and there wasn't a sound. Suddenly out of nowhere came a loud command "Halt! Who goes there?" Out scoutmaster replied "Friend". "Advance one." We were told to go back and apart from our leader, we didn't see another soul. That ended our excitement for the night except that the chip shop at Barr's Cottage was open. There was an anti-aircraft gun emplacement at the top of the Larkfield hill and the remains are still there to be seen.

NORTH AFRICA, SICILY AND ITALY

Schooling continued and I found myself becoming much more interested in the progress of the war. The North African campaign was probably the easiest to follow as it took place all along the south Mediterranean coast through Tunisia, Libya and Egypt. I came to know the locations of Tripoli, Benghazi, Bardia, Tobruk, although I was never too sure who was winning. Some of the towns appeared to change hands several times as the battles continued. I recall that when the British took Bardia, General Rommel was quoted as commenting "you can't eat Bardia". It is true that British had a problem obtaining sufficient supplies at that time. Eventually there came what was really the first British victory of the war. The Afrika Corps under Rommel had advanced to within forty five miles of Alexandria, but their lines of supply were sorely stretched and they were stopped at El Alameim. In August 1942, the 8th Army "Desert Rats" counter-attacked beginning with a tremendous bombardment of the German positions and minefields. They then advanced in tanks and on foot through the enemy lines. Rommel's troops fell back and continued to retreat until the end of the line in Tunisia. I saw the ecstatic headlines and photographs in the newspapers; Montgomerie who was now leading the campaign was portrayed as a brilliant military hero. History records show that Montgomerie refused to attack until he was sure of victory; and that; despite Churchill's exhortation and impatience. I drew my own map of the North African coast and wrote in the names of as many towns as I could find on the multitude of maps appearing in the newspapers. I obtained a supply of little paper British and German flags and I eagerly read the news so that I could move them according to the latest advances, or sometimes retreats. After the North African campaign came the Allied invasion of Sicily. Again, I drew a map of the island and had it fixed on my bedroom wall. The events were very easy to follow as the Americans advanced round the south and west and the British made their way north along the east coast. It became a race to be first to reach the north east town of Messina which I think the Americans won. Of course, the British troops were facing tougher enemy opposition as I then saw it, and that may well have been true. About this time, I came to be aware that there was serious competition between Montgomerie's Army and the Americans. Monty's autobiography written a few years later confirmed this, and he had little regard for General Eisenhower or his abilities. Then came Italy which I didn't find so interesting. I read about the Anzio beachhead just south of Rome which was not an Allied success. In art class I drew a little illustration of my impression. The landing at Salerno also caught my attention, but did not go according to plan. I am sure that these events were substantially played down in radio and newspaper reports. The assault on the Monastery at Monte Casino where the Germans offered very fierce resistance was closely followed; but after that, and the subsequent advance into Rome, which was declared an Open City; this part of the war seemed to me to fizzle out.

THE RUSSIAN FRONT

The battles on the Russian Front now took the number one spot. I obtained a large scale map of Western Russia which took pride of place on the bedroom wall. I also obtained lots of little Russian and German flags and I scanned the newspapers on a daily basis. I knew precisely the locations of the Pripet Marshes, Kiev, Kharkov, Orel, Stalingrad and many other towns and cities. I realised that in the terrible freezing conditions, the German Army had come to a virtual standstill. The advance on Moscow had been stopped by the most ferocious Russian opposition and the battle of Stalingrad was horrendous. If I had seen some glamour in the war so far, I was completely disillusioned by the reports and pictures coming out of Stalingrad in the winter of 1942/43.The German Army was eventually driven back and the Russians advanced on the massive battle areas. Sometimes I would move my Russian flags forward on reading reports of the Russian forces re-capturing a town; only to read some weeks later that the Soviets were continuing to advance and were now only ten miles away, approaching the same town. There had been no report on the German counter-attack. I did wonder about this, but I suppose I continued to believe everything coming from the B.B.C and the national newspapers and decided that I had missed something.

BICYCLES AND MORE SPIES

The 21st March 1944 was my fourteenth birthday and my parents bought me a bicycle. I know that it was difficult to obtain a bike as very few were being made. I went along to collect mine at Phillips in Union Street. Mr Phillips brought out a Hercules bicycle and said "this one should do you". I certainly was not given a choice, but that was fine. The frame was all black including the handlebars, certainly no chrome parts. One of my friends had also recently acquired a bike. I showed him mine and he commented that his was a Rudge Whitworth, "the company that makes aeroplanes" - I didn't care. A short time later we went off together on a trip which took us over the Erskine Ferry and along past Dumbarton on the way to Loch Lomond. Before reaching the Loch, we took a left turn onto the road over the hill to Helensburgh. From there we took the steamer to Gourock - it was either the Lucy Ashton or the Jeannie Deans; I can't quite remember; and on the boat we met a man who was also cycling. He told us that he collected rabbit or cats ears which he cut into various shapes as ornaments which seemed pretty weird to me. From Gourock we cycled back towards Greenock and along the Esplanade accompanied by our "friend". The tide must have been out for he climbed down onto the shore and proceeded to take photographs of the ships lying at anchor. We sped off pretty sure that he was an enemy spy and we never saw him again.

VICTORY AND CELEBRATION

D. Day was on the sixth of June 1944. The "Bridge too Far" at Arnhem had come and gone and it was now certain that we would win the war. I had never seriously thought that was in doubt. Again I had a map of the Cherbourg Peninsula and Normandy and initially I followed events closely. After that I became less interested as the German collapse seemed only a matter of time. The war in the Far East was more difficult for me to follow as the USA and Japan fought from island to island in the Pacific. I knew about the attack on Pearl Harbour which had brought America into the war, but I was somewhat uncertain about events, just as I had been about earlier conflicts in Burma, Singapore, etc. Germany finally surrendered on seventh of May 1945 - V.E. Day and there were great celebrations throughout the United Kingdom. In Greenock, as in every other town, many street parties were quickly organised. I was at a party in Moffat Street where a number of my friends lived. Long tables were set up along the middle of the street and entry was roped off. All the mothers supplied sandwiches, biscuits and lemonade after which we played party games. Three months later, we learned about the atomic bombs dropped by the Americans on the Japanese cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. This was horrendous, but resulted in the unconditional surrender of Japan on the following day.That finished the war so far as I was concerned. When it started I was nine years old; when it ended I was fifteen.

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