大象传媒

This is how my young brother remembers WW2 and how it affected our family.

Memories of the time we spent during world war two.

I was born 2 years before the war started and as a child I remember my Mother saying'I'm sorry son but we have to go into the air raid shelter again'
My sister Margaret and I were lovingly wrapped in blankets and with sirens wailing at 2am we were carried to the shelter at the bottom of the garden.
It was cold,dark and wet in the shelter which was made of corrugated sheets of iron.
It had soil and grass over the top and was about 3 feet down in the ground with a wooden ladder leading to the floor which always had about 6 inches of water over it.
We were laid on the steel lathe bunks on either side and the big wooden door was closed.

We could hear the distinctive throbbing of the bombers diesel engines. Then there started a whistling sound and the familiar crump as the bombs fell.
We were frightened and Mother must have been petrified but she never showed it.
She assured us it was only the coalman putting the coal in the bunker.
Mother lit candles in the shelter and the light danced in the water in the bottom.
Our house was in Bromborough in the Wirral. Approximately 5 miles from Liverpool were the city and docks were taking another pounding.
Nan and Grandad's house was reduced to rubble but fortunately they were out in the shelter.
They were relocated to an old railway carriage in Towyn on the North Wales coast.
We visited them as often as we could.
My sister and I thought the carriage was haunted especially when we pulled the tail of one of the fresh fish Grandad had caught off the pier and it jumped clean off the plate!
Father was a sailor. He used to send us a telegram when he was coming home on leave. We would watch for him from the bedroom window. Imagine our excitement when he appeared at the end of the street with his white kit bag on his shoulder.He brought us horlicks tablets left over from his emergency rations and they tasted yummy!

Oh! not another moonlight night.Jerry will be over here again, and they were.
I remember our air raid warden Mr.Pennal shouting 'Put that light out' during the black outs.
Some times a faint glimmer of light from under the hooded shade of a lorry's lantern could be seen.

As I grew older I used to go to Hooton air field on my little blue fairy cycle.
To a lane at the end of the run way and we would wave to the planes taking off on their missions.
To see us children waving must have given those very brave men even more reason to be going off to protect us.
One day while walking home from Woodslee school carrying my now rather battered cardboard box with my gas mask in it, I heard the sound of an air craft overhead.
It was a Heinkel bomber all by its self.
Then I heard the unmistakable scream of a Spitfire engine. As I stood watching, the Spitfire, with cannons rattling, went up behind then underneath the bomber which started streaming smoke.
Then I saw two parashutes opening.
The bomber crashed into the river Mersey and the crew landed in a field at the Stork Margerine works.
We heard later that the women workers were,as they put it 'Going to marmalize' the German crew.Fortunately the Home Guard got to them first.

We were in school one day when a parcel of food and clothing came from the Americans. God bless them. I was thrilled to have a new pair of trousers.

We walked down to Plymyard Avenue P.O.W. Camp and talked to the Italian prisoners. We asked them what they did in there. They said they didn't know why people were fighting and they gave us some chocolate.

Imagine my delight when my Aunty came to visit us from Liverpool and gave me my farm animals that had been found in the rubble of my Nan's house.
The black and white tin cow and the carthorse with the fluffy feet.
I suppose little things did mean a lot.

When my father was home on leave we spent a lot of time in the air raid shelter.
Concerned, he said he didn't want to leave us so we went back with him to be near his Naval Base at Warsash on the river Hamble on the South coast.

On the train going down my sister and I found an empty compartment and pretended we were V.I.P's. She was a Princess and I was an Admiral!
The train stopped and all the lights went out.
Father came to see if we were alright and gave us some very salty beef sanwiches.
He said it was an air raid and we would go on again as soon as it was safe.
We arrived in Paddington and went into the tube station. It was packed with people sheltering from the air raids.
There were bunks fitted on the walls. We sat on our cases for hours.
A kind lady brought us tea on a trolley to keep us warm.

On our arrival in Warsash we were set up in a lovely little cottage.
The goat in the garden ate the wooden fence so the lady put it on a rope but it devoured that too. The lady was none too pleased.

Father took us for walks by the river. He would drop pennies ahead of us for us to find.
A large sunderland flying boat made an emergency landing on the river. I had never seen such a big plane.
We stopped at a Duty Boat jetty and the sailor there gave us strong tea made with condensed milk and brown sugar. It sounds simple but in those days it was a rare treat.

On our return home to the Wirral mother bought some more day old chicks. She put them in a box on the hearth near the fire. They needed a lot of attention.
We already had 6 Rhode Island/Light Sussex hens that laid us 5 eggs a day. It helped out with our meagre rations.
Mother would stand for hours in queues with the ration books.
She got meal for them.There was always hen food boiling on the kitchen range.
Parents, who during those trying times, kept the homes going with unflinching devotion deserved medals too.
My Father, Jim Fletcher, was 'Mentioned in Dispatches' for his part in Combined Operations.
He was based at HMS Tormentor.

The man who lived across the road from us came home from a Japanese prisoner of war camp.
His daughter Joyce was friends with my sister.
We went to see him. He was sitting by the fire. He was skin and bone. He cried when he saw us.
He was a mental and physical wreck.
How could anyone do such a thing to a fellow human being?

Later on, as a Marine Engineer I visited Nagasaki and stood by the remaining shell of a church that was directly underneath the atomic bomb.
I went to the Memorial Museum and my emotions overcame me.
The Japanese people had paid a very high price for their part in the war.
I stood and stared at the objects and photographs with tears in my eyes.
I felt a hand on my shoulder. A guide asked me if I was English. I nodded.
He said 'Please come with me'
He took me to a cabinet filled with leaflets and told me these were dropped before the bomb.
A dire warning to vacate the area. No one believed them so they stayed, with terrible consequences.
I shook his hand and said'This must never happen again' He nodded in agreement.

At the end of the war we'd had street parties. It was hard to believe but it was really over.

These memories of a little boy may help to serve as a reminder of life in the war years and possibly help our historians to paint a truer picture.

So-did we come to any harm? Judge for yourselves. My sister went on to gain a degree in music and I became a Royal chartered Marine and Mechanical Engineer.

A thought for the future.
Brits beware. There is a serious threat to the establishment and our great way of life which was fought so hard for.
They are being undermined by stealth. So to avoid becoming a puppet state use your vote wisely to stop it now.
Apathy is a very dangerous state of mind.

Written by Keith David Fletcher.
Submitted by his sister, Margaret.

漏 Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.