大象传媒

'This story was submitted to the People's War site by Jenny Ford on behalf of Geroge Edward Procter and has been added to the site with his permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.'

At the start of WW2 I was aged eight. I lived in a little village in Essex called South Woodham Ferrers.

My father owned a small shop called 'Orchard Stores', it was a bit like 'Arkwright's' Open All Hours. His fond boast was tht anything he didn't have in stock he would get for you within a week. We also had a small holding with an orchard full of every sort of fruit grown in this country. We bred goats, pigs, geese, ducks, chickens and guinea fowl and with the market garden producing vegetables and potatoes we were pretty well self-sufficient. So although food rationing was fairly strict we never went short of anything. In addition we grew 12,000 tomato plants on the instruction of the Ministry of Food. This, Dad was obliged to do to save the orchard being uprooted to form one big field with adjoining properties. We had the choice of three crops, wheat, potatoes or tomatoes, Dad went for the latter being the most profitable. The house, shop and grounds was valued at this time for 拢1,000.

Dad joined the L.D.V. and used to go on duty armed with his 12 bore shotgun. Quite a few of the men only had pitchforks. The only proper rifle was an old American Ross .300 for which they had no ammunition as our standard calibre was .303. They did however have a bayonet and they all took it in turns to have the rifle when on sentry duty. Later when it changed to the Home Guard they did get some equipment. Later still Dad was asked to change to the ARP as he would be responsible for the issue of Emergency Rations which were stored in sealed tin boxes in and behind our shop to be issued in the case of invasion. At the end of the war we were instructed to dispose of them, some we ate and some were fed to the animals.

Early in the war, Dad excavated a large hole in the garden for an air raid shelter, all the soil was put back on the top and grassed over. It was fully equipped with bunk beds, cooking and toilet facilities and had an entrance at either end. My two sisters and I used to take great delight in watching any action and being chased by Mum and Dad from the entrances trying to keep us in, as quite often shrapnel was falling and spent bullets from the fighter planes.

After a night raid myself and my mates used to go out on the marshed behind the village looking for the holes where UXB's (unexploded bombs) had gone in the soft mud. We used to listen hoping we could hear time bombs ticking which of course we never did; and collecting shrapnel, empty cartridge cases and bits of incendiary bombs, mainly the fins. Our greatest delight was to find planes that had been shot down in the night when instead of going to school we would go off on our push bikes. Nine times out of ten we would find them either before the Police or the Army. We used to come away with all sorts of bits and pieces including perspex which we used to make rings and various items out of. We used to bring back live ammunition some of which my Dad used to have for the Home Guard. Our favourite thing from the American planes was the Compo rations, all sorts of goodies including coffee and chocolate.

When we did go to school, some six miles at Wickford, I used to have my dinner at a British Restaurant where I don't remember the exact prices, you could get a full meal for about 1 shilling (= 5 new pence).
Main course 6d.
Sweet 3d.
Soup 2p.
Tea or coffee 1d.

Our area was designated a 'fighter zone' between the AA guns towards Chelmsford and the Barrage Balloons at Southend, consequently we witnessed many dog fights in the air above. The most memorable of which sticks out in my mind was when 42 German bombers came directly over us in broad daylight, three lone Spitfires dived in amongst them, shooting down a considerable number. We were cheering when the German fighter escort arrived and shot down a Spitfire. The pilot baled out and as he descended we were all cheering again when one of the Germans circled him and machine gunned him which produced a deathly hush and he landed dead in the river.

Much later in the war when the V1 (doodlebugs) started arriving they used to cross the Hullbridge Road at right angles on the way to London - we were situated about midway on this road between the railway station and the River Crouch. Our figher planes used to try to shoot them down over the marshes but if they were going to fall on the village they would 'wing tip'them and try to turn them back out to the coast. On one occasion this didn't quite happen and the doodlebug was only turned half way and took a direct line down the Hullbridge Road. Being a Sunday most people were at home and you see everyone in both directions watching and listening to the distinctive noise. The road was bordered on both sides by ditches and when the engine cut out everyone disappeared into them with the exception of one man, a friend of my Dad's called Bob. Although he was a Londoner he had never seen or heard a doodlebug, he along stood there petrified and Dad had to drop him into the ditch, something we never let him forget. Luckily the engine re-started and it carried on some distance before coming down clear of the village.

About a quarter of a mile from our house was a RA Searchlight Site and when the siren sounded for a night raid we would hear the Lister Diesel generator start up. When we heard the planes overhead we would hear the order shouted, 'Expose' and then all the searchlights would come on. On one occasion a plane caught in the beam of the three lights dived directly down the beam of one light and shot it out. One of the soldiers from this site later married my elder sister.

The only bombs to actually fall on the village were dumped by a plane trying to escape our fighters, one of a stick of six made a direct hit on a bungalow near us killing the wife and injuring the husband who was trapped by one foot. My sister, Joyce, pulled him out of the rubble and rendered first aid.

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