大象传媒

The Sadness of War

One of my earliest recollections of the second world war brought a source of excitement, although sadness.
Following the Dunkirk evacuation, a great many troop trains were dispatched from Plymouth to various parts of the country. Many of those occupying them were very war torn and in despair.
As some trains slowed, it was possible to see dirty and sweaty faces at the windows. Often those faces were a vision of tragedy.
A great many were trying to distance themselves from all things military, and in an endeavour to further this ambition, many threw items of uniform and weapons out of the trains.
On reflection, who could blame them ? Who of us watching could know or understand what they had been through ?
Police forces and other military units enlisted the help of Dad and of course us boys, to help recover as much equipment as we could from the track side.
I suppose there was quite a danger that weaponry and ammunition might get into the wrong hands, but I don鈥檛 know of any case of anybody keeping even a souvenir.

Bombing in our remote area was very spasmodic. Those bombings that did occur were probably only German aircraft disposing of unwanted bomb loads after failing to find their target.
On one night in particular, with my brother (six years my senior.) and I sharing the same double bed, My dad rushed into our bedroom. 鈥� Quick! Quick! - Brian - Jim, get under the bed.鈥� We responded instantly by evacuating frantically via opposite sides, only to crash heads violently as we met under the middle of the bed.
I had quite a sense of humour, but my brother did not. He was grumbling so much, but I was giggling childishly at the situation.
Bombs. Well we did hear them, but in the extreme of our differing emotions, we were not at all frightened, but we were both injured, as the swelling on our heads next day could prove.

The bombing of Plymouth is never likely to be forgotten by me.
Opposite our railway crossing was a very steep field, and very high. It was always known as 鈥淏reak heart.鈥�
One night at about two am. in the morning, dad and mum came into my brother鈥檚 and my bedroom, and quite gently woke us up. 鈥� Get dressed.鈥� We were quietly told.
Together and slowly, (dad was an invalid.) dad, mum, Jim, and myself climbed to the top of the hill. It was such an eerie and unbelievable situation. Dad and mum had never before, nor did the since, get us two children out of bed at such an hour, for such a walk.
Eventually at the top dad bade us to all turn.
Plymouth was some forty miles away as the crow flies, and Dartmoor lay between there and us.
The whole sky above those southerly hills was glowing a tragic crimson.
In reply to our questions dad explained. 鈥� I鈥檝e brought you up here to see and remember. That glow in the sky is Plymouth burning.鈥�
How dad knew, and what prompted him to raise his sons from a deep slumber, I will never know.
He was right. I do remember.
That night. 鈥� Break heart鈥� deserved it鈥檚 name.

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