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Laurence Keaghan

My name is Laurence Keaghan and I am now seventy-nine years old. I was born and raised in the area of Benwell, Newcastle upon Tyne. This area was often bombed accidentally during air raids because it is located next to the Vickers Armstrong plant where British tanks were built.

I left home and joined as an army regular at the age of eighteen in Perth, Inverness, Scotland. I became a member of the Kings Own Scottish Borderers and later on a member of the Royal Pioneer Core. I was stationed at numerous locations throughout the UK. My army uniform was made of khaki coloured set of shirts, jumpers, trousers, jackets and highly polished black leather boots. The material was very heavy and itchy. However, I loved my job driving the American Guy motor vehicle. I sent home ten shillings every week from my army pay to help my parents out at home. I wrote home regularly to keep my parents up to date and always looked forward to their replies. As far as I can remember, we did not have to pay postage in those days.

My role as a soldier meant that I experienced a number of tasks. Most of the time I was patrolling the British coastlines watching out for invading forces and air raids as well as protecting the fleets transporting ammunition. I also spent time helping out tradesmen in the shipyards carrying out numerous labour intensive tasks.

Part of my duties was to assist the fire service in London to put out fires in buildings that had been targeted by the German air raids. These were intended to cause maximum disruption to peoples daily lives. I remember being called out once to assist the London fire brigade with a nearby explosion. It took us over half the night to tackle the blaze and bring it under control. We returned exhausted and cold to our army barracks in Rotherhithe the next morning only to find our barracks had been completely flattened by and earlier air raid. Fortunately, we were all out fighting the fire and no one was seriously injured or killed. I was quite upset, not because of the destruction, but the loss of my toolbox under my bed. I used to steal rations during the night from the kitchens and hide them in the box. I had managed to store tea, coffee, powdered milk, butter, jam and chocolate over a period of time. When I joined the army I weighed twelve stone and when I was demobbed in Shrewsbury after five years, I weighed fifteen stone.
I now live in St. Peters Court Residential Home in Wallsend.

As told to the student鈥檚 of Churchill Community College on Friday 28th November 2003.

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