大象传媒

鈥淏orn in a Pusser鈥檚 Blanket鈥� (Portsmouth memories)

My husband鈥檚 words not mine鈥� Perhaps he was right. Born and bred in Portsmouth. I lived there through all the wartime blitzes and for many years after. Daughter, niece and later to be wife and mother of naval men, I had a decidedly 鈥渟ervice鈥� background. Would have joined the WRNS, but wasn鈥檛 old enough at the outbreak of war. When the age limit was reduced, I had become a married woman with family responsibilities.
First recollection of the outbreak of the war was standing in the garden on a lovely September afternoon when our next door neighbour called me to ask if I knew where my boy-friend was. As he was already at sea I replied that I didn鈥檛 know. The ship in question was the Ark Royal so hers was just the fore runner of the oft repeated question 鈥淲here is the Ark Royal?鈥�
I recall the first day-light raid on Portsmouth when we stood watching a 鈥榙og fight鈥� overhead and bombs streaming down. After discovering what those had done I don鈥檛 think folks were likely to want to stand and watch a second time.
On January 10th 1941 (my Father鈥檚 birthday) Portsmouth suffered its first Blitz, mainly an incendiary raid. Planes first dropped flares so that they could target their objectives and it was like daylight. Once incendiary landed in our dustbin which was the best place for it! The fire was put out with the aid of stirrup pumps. Our house was severely. damaged but not flattened. I remember standing at the street corner, everyone desperately trying to figure out which way to go to the nearest emergency centre. The whole city was ringed with fire and all roads seemed to be blocked with debris or bomb craters. There just seemed no way out, but somehow we made it. After registering at the centre at Court Lane we went to stay at an aunt鈥檚 house nearby.
Strangely, there was no fear, no panicking; not even from my Mother who was a natural born worrier.
Later we went back to salvage some of our belongings, only to find that our street, what was left of it, was barricaded off as it was feared there were unexploded bombs beneath the rubble. Dodging the wardens on duty we managed to retrieve a few items. Luckily the UXB scare proved false and we were able to move back home. No light or gas though and we had to cook over a coal fire in our front room.
During the second blitz, my firm (a naval tailor and outfitters) was badly damaged. We spent all next day salvaging what we could (typewriters, ledgers, bales of serge, sewing machines etc|) and trying to put things under cover as much as possible. It was all in vain however because that night Jerry came over again and completed the destruction of the previous raid. Everything was flattened. Our manager told us office girls to go home.
On the way we met our boss who asked us where we were going. We told him what had happened and burst out laughing. I鈥檝e often thought how heartless we must have seemed. Here was a man who had had to close his businesses in other naval ports, had seemingly lost all his life鈥檚 efforts, had lost and worried over relatives in Europe (he was Jewish) and all us girls could do was laugh. Of course it was realty just a nervous reaction to what we had all gone through, but I still wonder what he thought of us. Production of naval uniforms was re-commenced in his private house in Southsea.
This was quite near the sea-front and though the beach was out of bounds, there was one small section where barbed wire was rolled back and we were allowed to swim. So we spent most of our lunch breaks there.
Later I went to work in the Dockyards employed as a Shorthand/Typist in the Superintendent Naval Stores office and on the R.T. of the Fleet Fuelling Office where I stayed till leaving to have my first baby.
I remember how at a dance on the South Parade Pier early in the war, the music stopped and it was announced that Winston Churchill had become Prime Minister. Everyone stamped and cheered 鈥� did they think the war was going to end tomorrow?
Doing voluntary work at the YMCA forces canteen next to the town station, I was once 鈥渢old off鈥� by the manager for not putting enough butter on the toast for the ratings. I guess our rations at home were so scanty that it had become second nature to put it on and scrape it off again.
I did my stint of Fire watching at a Fire Station in Southsea. I was terrified in case there was an emergency whilst I was on duty, as I hadn鈥檛 got a clue how to operate the switchboard. Luckily for me (and everyone else) no such situation ever arose.
I think it is not always appreciated that although a lot of inland cities like Coventry, Birmingham etc suffered extreme damage, their raids were usually 鈥榦ne-off鈥� affairs. On the coast, nearest to the Continent, we endured night after night of continuous gun fire and bombings. Even though we may not have been the chief objective of any particular raid, enemy planes often released bombs on their way over and again on their way back from other destinations.
The noise and vibrations from the bombardments from the guns of the ships in harbour and the shore batteries surrounding the city was far more nerve-wracking that the drone of the plane up above. But those gave us a feeling of confidence and security,
Shortages were rife, queues and waiting for everything. On one of my husband鈥檚 leaves we came to stay with his parents at Kidderminster and were amazed at the quantity of good on display in the shops. I was able to buy a pushchair from a local pram dealer and I was so excited about it that I had to mention it to the shop-keeper. He immediately got 鈥榰p-tight鈥� and said that if he鈥檇 known I wasn鈥檛 from round here he wouldn鈥檛 have let me have it. I was incensed to think that he begrudged my baby a pushchair when they had no apparent shortage of anything. The local market was full of fancy tea-sets, whilst we had to make do with odd cups or buy metal clip-on handles for use on cups without handles. (I kept the pushchair).
I now lived in Southsea. Just a stones throw away from where our troops embarked for D Day. Although there were rumours and everyone knew that something was in the offing, we didn鈥檛 know exactly what it was. My son, reading about the thousands of troops and vehicles that passed through our streets, could not believe that we were unaware of what was happening. I told him that we had lived with naval tradition long enough to know when to keep our eyes and ears open and our mouths shut.
We鈥檇 suffered land mines, doodle bugs, death and destruction, but I don鈥檛 think anything had prepared us for the horrors revealed when our troops opened up the German Concentration camps.
But when hostilities ceased the city went mad. Thousand danced and sang in the streets. Church bells vied with hooters from the ships in harbour, Sailors swarmed on the backs of the Lions on the Guildhall, people climbed lampposts, all cheering non-stop. Bedlam indeed but we hadn鈥檛 let ourselves go for six long years and now we were making up for it! Though we still had compassion in our hearts, for those who had kin held in Prison Camps in Japan, Their turn was to come a few months later.
Many of us had lost our homes, our possessions, our friends and relative and everything. But one thing we never lost was our Pride in our City.

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