大象传媒

Joyce Mullins
Fire fire everywhere !

At 6am on Sept 3rd 1939 our front door bell awakened me. I went down to answer it to find it was the head of the Territorial Army telling me that war had been declared and would I ask my brother to report for duty immediately. At that time we lived in Pembroke dock, South Wales.

A few days later I was on the way back to Newbury to where I worked in a village school as a teacher. It was not long before evacuees from the East End of London joined us. When they arrived I don鈥檛 know who was more bewildered, them or us. They were a pitiful sight at first and as time went on it was heartbreaking to learn how life had treated them.

Identity cards and ration books were an absolute necessity. Clothing coupons were the hardest to handle until we found blankets and furnishing materials were not on coupons so they quickly found themselves wearing all kinds of clothes made from curtains.

Now I turn to the horror of Pembroke Dock which was a garrison town and home for two regiments, two oil tank depots with about 15 oil tanks, a sea plane base and a ship dockyard. It was so far West that it did not have any defences. It was therefore quite simple for the German planes to come straight in, drop their bombs , and get away before people realised what had happened.

As a result my summer holiday was spent trailing back and forth to the hall where hundreds of firemen were housed, taking it in turn to attempt to keep the burning fire under control. It lasted long after the holiday was over. Some of the firemen were so tired after being on shift that they slept on the floor, benches or tables where there was room. After the bombing of the oil tanks, barrage balloons were erected which did not deter the bombers for long and the Germans re-started their attack.

Now for a few words about strange things which happened. Two houses bombed and standing above the rubble a staircase intact with a doll's pram hanging from the staircase. In another bombing six houses were completely demolished and a wonderful Wedgwood jug lay on top of the rubble completely undamaged. In both instances most of the occupants were killed. After the last incident the remainder of the people in that street walked three miles into the country and slept in barns or sheds which a farmer cleared out for them.

My younger brother who was in the scouts acted as a messenger between the depots. One night when he had finished he sat down and promptly slept. One sergeant took off his boots, then his socks and tickled his feet but he still remained asleep! It was quite a relief to go back to the piece and quiet of the country after another taste of war each time.

We tried to help in any way we could by knitting socks, helmets for the troops as well as sending parcels of goodies. We also dug the allotments for fresh vegetables. To keep peoples spirits up we held whist drives or dances most weeks and in the summer we went on endless walks and played cricket. In the winter skating on the pond.

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