大象传媒

When the second world war broke out I was seven years of age, the youngest of two sons of parents who were the superintendent and matron of the town鈥檚 Casual Wards 鈥� an establishment for the over鈥攏ight and week鈥攅nd accommodation of vagrants, (or 鈥榗asuals鈥�, as they were known to me) and which came under the jurisdiction of the local Poor Law Institution or workhouse. My family, that is my parents, my brother and I, went to live in the house within the grounds of the Casual Wards in July 1933 when my parents took up their posts. Whilst I can clearly remember certain events which happened at the Casual Wards before the war, I have no memory of the actual commencement of the war and which I don鈥檛 think would have meant much to many seven year olds. I can remember the fitting of a gas mask for the first time which I seem to recall was a bit of a trauma and gradually, I suppose, I became aware of being able to distinguish between the sound of the sirens warning of an air raid 鈥� when we would have to go into the cellar which had been strengthened with pit鈥攑rops 鈥� and the sound of the 鈥渁ll clear鈥�. It think it must have all seemed exciting rather than frightening.

At the beginning of the war the Casual Wards closed its doors to the admission of casuals for the duration of the war 鈥� not that there would be many casuals, if any, at that time 鈥攁nd did not reopen until the end of December 1945. During that period the place became used for the storage of wartime emergency equipment and the dormitories were filled with such things as blankets, stirrup pumps, steel helmets, oil lamps etc. My brother, who is nine years my senior, enlisted for military service in May 1942 and I still have many of the airgraphs, letters and picture postcards which he sent to me throughout the war from various places in North Africa, Sicily and Italy.

I was encouraged by my father to keep a diary, the first one of which is for the year 1941, but when I now read them until 1945 there is actually no mention of anything remotely connected with the war except an occasional reference to having received a letter from my brother and of having helped to unpack crates of emergency supplies which had arrived at the Casual Wards. I do remember that towards the end of the war, by which time I would be aged twelve or thirteen I was taking a keen interest and each day I would, with the aid of the maps published in the daily newspapers, plot the progress of the Allied armies in Europe with paper flags of the different armies which I pinned on a map of Europe on the wall of my father鈥檚 office. My diary entry for 26 April 1945 reads 鈥淪enior (sic) Mussolini captured鈥� and on 28 April 鈥淪enior Mussolini shot鈥�. On 1 May 1945 I wrote 鈥淗itler died (or was he shot) or did he shoot himself鈥�; and the following day 鈥淔all of Berlin. Germans sign surrender treaty up to 2 miles from Berchesgarden (sic)鈥�. 3 May 鈥� 鈥淐apital of Burma (Rangoon) fell into our hands鈥�. 4 May 鈥� 鈥淕ermans in Denmark, Holland and North West Germany. Surrender anytime now鈥�. 6 May 鈥� 鈥淔ixed flag鈥攑ole up ready for VICTORY鈥� 鈥� followed by 鈥淔lag stolen same day鈥�. 7 May 鈥� 鈥淯nconditional surrender signed by Germans. End of War in Europe鈥�. 8 May and 9 May 鈥� 鈥淰ictory holiday鈥�. 13 May 鈥� 鈥淲ent to town to see Victory Parade鈥�. That was the last entry relating to the war except for one entry on 31 March 1947 noting that my brother, who had at long last been released from military service, 鈥渃ame home鈥�. During his service he had risen to the rank of Staff Sergeant and been mentioned in despatches. From reading documents and papers which only recently came into my possession it has become clear to me that for my mother, who had already lost one son to the war 鈥� an event which she was of course made aware of at the time but which I was not to learn about for another sixty years 鈥� and for my father who had himself been wounded during the Battle of the Somme in 1916, the Second World War did not finally end for them until that day in March 1947.

On the 28 March 1942 my half鈥攂rother, a Petty Officer in the Royal Navy who had already been mentioned in despatches for his courage during operations in the Mediterranean sector, and awarded the Distinguished Service Medal for courage when his ship was sunk, was killed whilst serving on HMS Cambeltown during the successful raid to destroy the gates of the enormous dry dock at St Nazaire used by the German navy. I have to say that I was not even remotely aware that I had a half鈥攂rother until the late summer of 2001 when, in the course of researching my family history, I managed to find my cousins on my late mother鈥檚 side of the family and who I had not seen for nearly sixty years. Apart from being very pleased to make contact with them after this long time, I was seeking information concerning another relative and did not expect to hear that I had another brother which came as a bombshell to me. When I was a child many subjects were considered taboo and not to be mentioned within earshot of children but this seemed unreal. From an important document and a newspaper article which had been left in the care of my mother鈥檚 siblings and which my cousins had the foresight to keep when their parents died and from other information from their own personal knowledge I was able to find the official record of my half鈥攂rother鈥檚 birth, some detail of his military service and the location of his grave. As soon as could, I made arrangements to visit the War Cemetery at Escoublac鈥擫a鈥擝aule in France where my half鈥攂rother is buried, and which my wife and I were able to do in July 2002. This was a very moving occasion for both of us as we laid flowers on his grave 鈥� the grave of an undoubtedly courageous man whose death must have caused great anguish. The cemetery, which stands above the town of La Baule, is kept wonderfully maintained and was bathed in brilliant sunshine on the occasion of our visit. I learned from the Commonwealth War Graves Commission that throughout the German occupation , a French lady living in La Baule dedicated all her time and energy to maintaining the graves. With money collected secretly from the generous local people she provided a cross for every grave and a small monument, and had the hedges planted, and employed a permanent gardener to tend the cemetery. Her devotion to this work was honoured by the award of the King鈥檚 Medal for Service in the Cause of Freedom.

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