大象传媒

MY MEMORIES WW 2
EVACUATION
I understand that early in 1940 Mum and I were evacuated to Luton in Bedfordshire. Right next to the Vauxhall Motors factory which, I believe, at that time was producing army scout cars and could become a prime target for German bombers. Well done the bureaucrats.
After several disagreements between mum and our lady host, one of which ended up with me (3 years old) bighting, in frustration, a piece out of one of her best glasses from which I was drinking. We came home.

Early in 1941, we found (probably with the help of Fred Sage, a neighbour) another billet, this time a slightly safer distance from Luton, at Slip End in Beds.
The house, not unlike home, stood in a small stand alone terrace on the outskirts of the village surrounded by farmland. The village had a small hall which occasionally showed films. I have a vague memory of a film where two people are chased by an escaped lion and get trapped in a U shaped tunnel, as they ran from end to end so did the lion, blocking their escape, a great laugh for a four year old. I think it was a Bebe Daniels and Ben Lion film.
I remember being in a pushchair, all wrapped up for winter, watching a fighter plane that had made a forced landing in a nearby field. The plane was bogged down in a snowy/muddy dip. A jeep came to drag it out but got stuck, and then another vehicle came to rescue both. Much to the amusement of the gathering onlookers, this also stuck fast. Eventually a much larger truck managed to rescue all 3 and the hapless plane was dewinged, loaded onto a transporter and taken away.
The strongest memory is of the two boys of the house (they must have been about six or seven years older than me) occasionally taking me to 鈥減lay look out鈥�. The game was great fun, we would go across the road into the field, I had to watch through the hedge and if anyone came along we would all hide. Strangely every time we played this game there were new potatoes with our next meal.

In the summer of 1942 dad sent for us to come home, my experience of evacuation was already over.

AIR RAID SHELTERS
During my first trip to the country dad built an Anderson shelter at the bottom of our garden so that we could take cover there during air raids. Our neighbours Mrs Franklin and her daughter Mrs Wildman often joined us down there.
Coming down the garden you first met the low concrete blast wall, then turning right you went down about three steps to a sort of half landing with a duck in entrance on the left. Through this doorway there was a drop of about three feet, which had a short ladder or steps to access the shelter floor. The shelter space was about seven feet long by six feet wide and seven high, formed by a low concrete wall surmounted by an arch of corrugated iron and filled in at both ends by corrugated iron, except for the entrance of course. When the shelter was regularly in use, I sort of remember there were three narrow bunks one on each side and the other across the end, raised clear of the others.
During night time raids no one laid down except me, dad used to stand on the half landing keeping a lookout and the rest would just sit, wrapped up in their dressing gowns and blankets, on the side bunks chatting. I was told that on one occasion the blast from a nearby bomb actually blew dad back into the shelter.
The shelter was cold and damp, so fearing for my health, our second evacuation was organised.

Meanwhile back home my father, between working and, some weekends, cycling 30 miles each way to Slip End, was building an indoor air raid shelter.
The shelter, similar in size and shape to the Anderson, but brick built and it used the centre wall of the house as its blast wall.
Dad had taken up the front room floor boards and built up from the foundations, relaying the boards around the brickwork. The shelter was equipped with two bunk beds, electric light plus hammer and chisel, the latter for cutting our way out if the house should fall on us.

By late 1942 we were back home although dad was by now working near Didcot on Salisbury Plane building air fields for the USAF. My bedroom was now our new shelter and life was almost normal.
I started school at Chapel End and whenever there was a night time air raid we were allowed an extra half hour in bed to make up for lost sleep, good for me as in my new shelter I never even heard the sirens and bombs.

My pal Ian had a Morrison shelter in his front room; it stood about 3 feet high by about 6 feet long and 4 feet wide. It was made up of a heavy duty iron frame with thick steel plates to form a top; the sides were formed by a square mesh of iron rods. The whole thing becoming a massive steel dining table with bedding underneath which could just sleep 2 adults and 2 children.
Ian had a better use for the table top; his train set was permanently laid out there. As a 6/7 year old I always worried about the trains getting damaged if the house were bombed.

OTHER WALTHAMSTOW MEMORIES
Collecting shrapnel, we boys would have hoards of jagged pieces of metal and the odd cartridge case etc鈥� My prize piece was 12 inch by 3 inch piece of aluminium with large circular holes punched in it and German writing on it.

Running alongside American convoys on the North Circular road calling out 鈥済ot any gum chum鈥�, often we were lucky and the soldiers would throw us some handfuls of chewing gum or chocolate (some of the only times we tasted sweets during the war).
At school when there was a daytime air raid we would be herded into the cloak rooms under the stairs, it was the nearest thing to an air raid shelter available. Teaching was impossible in those cramped conditions so we all became quite good at pencil and paper games like battleships and cruisers, noughts and crosses etc鈥�
It was a school rule for first year infants to have a half hour afternoon sleep (It was considered that 5 year olds could not cope with a full day of lessons). I can clearly remember actually having small camp beds set up in the classroom for this purpose. The older infants rested heads on arms at their desks.

Once I was almost dragged out of bed by a Stengun. It was Dads turn to look after it for his Home Guard unit (the only gun they possessed). I was sick in bed, but begged to be allowed to hold it not realising how heavy it was, the result, Dad having to catch the gun and I before we hit the floor.

One morning on my way to school, without warning, there was the sound of low flying aircraft and cannon fire, looking up I clearly saw a German fighter plane streaking across the sky with a Spitfire close behind (living up to its name) pouring tracer bullets at the German, quite an awesome sight.

During this time as there was no television we depended on the radio for news and entertainment. As a child my favourite program, in fact the only kids program, was Children鈥檚 Hour which was always introduced at 5pm by 鈥淯ncle Mac鈥� saying 鈥淗allow children every where鈥� and closed at 6pm with 鈥淕ood night children everywhere鈥�. Said The Cat To The Dog and Toy Town are the only two parts that I can remember from there.
As I grew up more adult programs, like The Billy Cotton Band Show, Workers Play Time and ITMA, gained my attention.
ITMA (Its That Man Again) The Tommy Handley show poked fun at everything and anything. I still remember some of its characters and catch phrases: -
Mrs Mop鈥檚 鈥渃an I do you now sir鈥� and 鈥淭TFN鈥� (tat-ta for now).
Colonel Chinstrap鈥檚 鈥淚 don鈥檛 mind if I do鈥�.
The final and most vivid memory this period came from the late summer of 1944, but that鈥檚 another story, already submitted under the title 鈥淒oodlebug that鈥檚 not cricket.鈥�

TALES FROM MY FATHER
Early on in the war Dad was working on The Isle of Dogs, right in the heart of the London docks, building public air raid shelters. The two problems with building an air raid shelter are: -
1) Where do you shelter before it is completed?
2) How do you quickly complete the work when there are so many interruptions from air raids?

One afternoon the boss came down to site and angrily demanded to know why his shelter building crew had 30 more scaffold boards than necessary for the job.
鈥淭hey鈥檙e over there鈥� we told him 鈥渦nder the tarpaulin, forming a lean-to against the wall with our bags of sand and cement鈥�.
He was not happy. 鈥淚 want them back at the yard on the next lorry鈥� he ordered.
鈥淏ut we use them to keep our tools safe at night鈥� we explained 鈥渁lso w鈥︹�� At that moment the sirens went off.
He panicked 鈥渨here is the nearest air raid shelter鈥�.
鈥淭here are none鈥� we pointed out 鈥渢hat鈥檚 why we are here building this one. You are welcome to join us under your scaffold boards, or if you are quick you might get off the island before all the bridges open to keep access to the docks clear for shipping鈥�.
You couldn鈥檛 see him for dust. Meanwhile on site operation 鈥榤eerkat鈥� started, one of the labourers acted as lookout while the rest carried on working until enemy bombers were sighted. The make shift shelter saved them many times from injury from falling shrapnel and fortunately was never put to the test by the blast of any nearby bombs. Nothing more was ever said about the surplus scaffold boards.

Whilst working on the aerodromes dad discovered the unique USAF method of decorating the interiors of their huts.
1) Enter the hut and cover all the glass.
2) Suspend an industrial size spray gun on a single cord from the centre of the ceiling, making sure it is firmly tied and well balanced.
3) Leave the power cable slack and fed through a slightly open window; also a string is attached to the suspension cord and fed through the window.
4) Leave the room; shutting all other doors and windows.
5) Make yourself comfortable in a deckchair with beer and cigarette.
6) Turn the power on and joggle the string. After a while the spray gun will have wobbled and spun enough to have covered everything including the floor.
7) Wait for paint to dry and re-enter the hut and remove the covering.
A job well done, unless the officers caught you!

Fire watching was a duty that the off duty men of the street did each night. One particular evening the call went out 鈥渋ncendiary in roof鈥�. The three firewatchers, Fred Bill and Arthur, dashed to the house, woke up the occupants and put into action the well drilled plan. Bill and Arthur grabbed the hosepipe and dashed upstairs while, Fred connected it to the tap in the kitchen. Then came the tricky bit, gently cooling the incendiary device with a little water alternating with more powerful hosing to put out the flames on the joists and rafters. For about thirty minutes the calls came clearly down the stairs, 鈥渕ore water鈥�, or 鈥渓ess water鈥� etc. and Fred complied with every command until the fire was out.
Bill and Arthur returned from the loft to find Fred soaked to the skin and the kitchen awash with water. Fred explained that every thing had gone to plan, except, turning on the tap he discovered the hose was broken. Fred had spent the last half hour holding the two ends of pipe together for full power and letting some water spray out when less power was needed.

Land mines were one of Adolph鈥檚 ways of causing maximum damage with minimum cost, dropped by parachute with a nose cone set to detonate at the slightest touch allowing the blast to travel further unimpeded. One winter鈥檚 evening the call went out that a land mine had been seen dropping, near the waste land, by the junction of Higham Hill and Billet Road, but there had been no explosion. Local ARP Wardens went out, in the pitch black night, to search the streets and general area.
One warden drew the short straw and had the waste land to search; his report back went something like this. 鈥淚鈥檝e scuffed my shin and near had my eye poked out in the copse and that gap the fence is b鈥� tight. I couldn鈥檛 see that ruddy bomb anywhere, I鈥檝e been back twice to make sure.鈥� His mates ribbed him for being too fat for the gap and decided to resume the search in daylight.
Next morning at the crack of dawn they met up at the end of Higham Hill and within a couple of minuets found the land mine, hanging by its parachute from a tree, right by the gap in the fence. Our hapless warden turned ashen grey and croaked, 鈥溾�檒ummy! I must have cuddled that b鈥� thing each time I went through there鈥�.
Bomb disposal were called and the land mine was carefully removed and disposed of without any incident.

THE DAY PEACE BROKE OUT
7th May 1945 Germany surrendered.
8th May was designated VE Day and declared a public holiday, Churchill said 鈥淲e may allow ourselves a brief period of rejoicing鈥� (the war against Japan was still going on).
Thousands of people went into London to celebrate and see the Royal Family. Dad took Mum and I, there were crowds of happy people making there way under Admiralty Arch and up the Mall. It was so crowded that even holding Dad鈥檚 hand I often found myself squeezed away to arms length from him, eventually Dad put me on his shoulders. It was decided that it was too risky, because of the crush of people, for us to go any further. The Mall was packed solid right up to the Palace in the far distance. I was appointed look out, as neither Mum nor Dad could see where they were heading and gradually I directed them to Waterloo Steps out of that great crush of people. We never got to see the Royal Family on their balcony that day.

IN CONCLUSION
Being so young and so lucky during the war, I looked on the whole thing as normal life.
The only thought that I bring with me from that time is that life goes on and, apart from taking normal care of my self, nothing is worth panicking about.

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