大象传媒

A War-time Train Journey, 1945 by Henry Walford Jones

After we had been at Chedburgh for a few weeks and done a few Ops., we became due for a 48 hours leave. Most of the crew had their homes on the eastern side of England and found it fairly easy to get home as it was possible to be in war-time Britain. This was apart from our Aussie wireless op, who always headed for the bright lights of London. But for me it was, as today, much more difficult travelling from East to West, for again, like today the best connections by road or rail are South to North. But in early 1945 when I had this 48 hour pass I set off optimistically for my home in Wrexham, North Wales soon after breakfast. On arrival at Bury St. Edmunds station I made enquiries as to the best route I should take. I expect it would be at the RTO office I would have made my enquiry, they sending me from Bury to Bletchley where I was to make a connection for Crewe. Then it was to be on to Manchester where it was expected that I should make the train for Chester at 9.30 p.m. and finally from there to Wrexham where I should arrive a bit before 11 p.m. for the two and a half mile walk out of the town to home.

The trip to Bletchley was not too bad, stopping at many small country stations, as this was the railway system before the Beeching axe had started to fall. Sometimes we were shunted into a siding to give way to a troop or goods train which had priority in war-time, with passenger trains occupiyng the lines only when more important traffic was not about. Due to these dalays, it was well after noon when I arrived at Bletchley to find I had an hour to wait for my connection to Crewe. I was by this time quite hungry but fortunately a W.V.S. van arrived after a short time from which I bought tea and wads and, along with a few other servicemen, I went into the waiting room to satisfy the inner man. This of course was mid-winter and as all the coal was needed for the war effort there was none to spare for such luxury as heating a railway waiting room. But the hot mug of tea helped a bit, warming my hands on it before drinking.

After what seemed like much longer than an hour, our train chugged into the station and we all piled in to join a compartment already full of service personnel on the move to all corners of the U.K. Some, like me were going on leave, some were returning to camp from leave, and some were on their way to a new posting. The train rattled along on what seemed like an endless journey. Most of the carriage occupants nodded off as we went along, waking from time to time, with those nearest the windows rubbing off the condensation to try and make out where we were from some landmark or another. It was not possible to identify your whereabouts from the stations as they had all had their names removed at the start of the war and had blackout lighting restrictions.

By the time we arrived in Crewe darkness had descended and I don't think there was a more dreary place in war-time Britain than Crewe station on a cold January night. Here again, thankfully, we were able to take advantage of the catering facilities laid on by the W.V.S. or the Salvation Army. Normally I would expect to go from Crewe to Chester direct but as things at this time were far from normal the only way to Chester was via Manchester. After a stuttering journey from Crewe to Manchester, I got off the train thinking that the worst part of the journey was over and expecting to be home at least within the next hour and a half. How wrong I was! The train for Chester had left ten minutes before we arrived and, on making enquiries, I discovered that the next one for the city on the banks of the Dee was at 6.30 am. next morning. I was not to be deterred so, with the "press on" spirit that we had all come to adopt in the war, I got on a bus outside the station and travelled on this to the outskirts of Manchester in the direction of Altrincham, along the A556. I hoped that, when I got off the bus, I would be able to hitch a lift to Chester. I started this walk somewhere between 11.30 and midnight. Although traffic on our roads in those days was a very small fraction of today's volume, and petrol rationing was another factor making the passing vehicles very few and far between, I was optimistic that I would soon drop lucky and one of the passing lorries or cars would stop and give me a lift. Whether, with their very restricted lights, the passing motorists failed to see me thumbing a lift or what, but my luck seemed to be out this night, as at around 5 am the following morning I found myself still walking and entering a small town. I soon came to the railway station outside of which there were a couple of cars parked. To my surprise, I found one unlocked, so I decided to have a rest in it for a while, thinking if the owner did come and catch me in it he, would surely have the war-time spirit and have a bit of sympathy for my situation. And who knows, he might even be heading for Chester. I must have fallen asleep for a while as I woke up cold and a bit stiff. I saw from my watch that over an hour had passed since I got into the car. I felt very hungry and had run out of fags (yes I smoked then) so decided I had better move on.

The first place I came across in this town showing any signs of life was a newsagents shop. I went in to find out where I was and to see if I could buy some cigs and perhaps a drink and a bite to eat. I discovered that I was in Northwich. The man in the shop was very pleasant and gave me a couple of cigarettes and he told me that a milk lorry driver called-in every morning for a paper on his way to Chester and he felt sure this chap would give me a lift. While I was waiting he gave me a cup of tea but had nothing I could eat, as everything was strictly rationed and he had nothing to spare. Just a bit before 7 am the milk lorry arrived and the driver readily agree to give me a ride to Chester. On the way, he gave me a couple of sandwiches from his lunch-box, for which I was extremely thankful as by now I was hungry enough to have eaten a plate of McConachies stew as if it had been caviare. We arrived in Chester at about 7.45. He dropped me off near the centre of the City so I was nearer to the bus station, from where I found out one was leaving for Wrexham at 8 am.
It was a bit after 9.30 am when I arrived home, having been on the way for almost 24 hours. Mother soon had breakfast on the table, giving me a bit of bacon from the family's rations and a couple of fried eggs. These could be spared as mother and dad were very friendly with a chicken farmer in our village. I was by this time feeling a bit shattered so, after a chat about my journey and enquiring about pals and family who were in various parts of the world in the forces, I went to bed and slept very soundly until mid-afternoon when I had to start thinking about my return journey. I am not able to remember much about the journey back to Bury or when I reached Chedburgh, so things must have gone pretty smoothly, but I never again tried to get home when only on a few hours leave!

'This story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War site by John Baines of the 大象传媒 Radio Shropshire/CSV Action Desk on behalf of Henry Walford Jones and has been added to the site with his permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.'

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