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Ives Dennis has already contributed to the ´óÏó´«Ã½ project, his enthusiasm as though allowed us to share in his knowledge. This is an additional story.

Teenage Years

When the war started I was neutral of emotion. I was still a child and did not know what to think. I remember my parents were sad and gloomy, while I was excited, because of the action that I believed was about to follow. I always imagined myself as a soldier, and with the war I had the chance to be one of the pack.

Our family lived in a part of Essex named Ilford. Essex was on the boundaries of London and safely away, then it was still considered to be rural town, and rightly so.

I was still going to school at that time, which I thought was a bore, but my friends and I used to try to imitate the war movies, playing war fights with imaginary artillery. Once I remember a time when a group of us were walking back home after school close, we had to cross a large field to reach a path that would get us back. Suddenly a plane at an unreasonable distance went past our heads, we scrambled across to catch it in full flight even jumping to try to garner what plane it was. It was a German plane, maybe a Dornier!

Another bizarre moment was when my parents were with me. On this particular day we were cycling down the main road in Stansted. The sirens went off and unfortunately a good-willed police officer reprimanded my parents. This officer was very smartly dressed adhering to the strict regulations at that time. When I say strict, she had on gas protective clothing, a rattle, gas mask hanging over her shoulder and a tin helmet.

My mum politely told her that we were living in countryside and that there was little chance we would get bombed. Anyway it was supposed that a bomb was a bomb on any day. The officer of course held the stance that prevention was better than cure. I was irate. it had been a false alarm.

Over time, my parents had begun to accept the war.

There was the incident of a bomb blast at a bus stop in Forestgate, a nearby town; the bomb had targeted the renowned Princess Alice pub. The day the Princess Alice was bombed was thought to be the heaviest bombing campaign in London. Since the Princess Anne was a main root this would normally have affected the bus services but buses had already started stopping anytime a person waved out their hand.

After many such occurrences it was decided that living with my grandmother in Cambridge would be best. My parents felt my safety was a priority.

This was 1942

After a stay at my grandmother’s I moved to London, where I was on a work experience at the press offices. I was situated in Fleet Street but had to work in other auxiliary offices. My job was to maintain the teleprinters. At that time, the teleprinters were the most efficient information receivers. The teleprinters dual-purpose technology of receiving and sending information quickly made them highly sought after by intelligence officers. The messages were sent through telephone lines, which also made the messages discrete.

The teleprinter though had its problems, it was primitive, and you were constantly besieged with bleeping sounds for every centimetre of inkpad. It was a start and stop system and therefore slow.

I was very busy but it was difficult to concentrate with all the news.

Lucky

It happened that I was on post in a town called Stratton, near Ascot, where our department was next to the 8th U.S Army air force base. My boss once sent me on an errand to deliver a message to a high-ranking official in the air force. I was still only 16 at this time and I ran to the airbase where I had my badge photograph to prove my identity.

I was taken into this room that had the ‘revered’ strategic maps, it looked spacious, it also had the coloured pins decorating it. I was overwhelmed at this stage. When I handed the message to the Major with the ‘scrambled egg’ — also known as the gold braid, I interestingly remained attentive. Amusingly the captain told me to leave the room to let him win the war.

The war was a humorous affair; I would term it Cockney humour, and everything you could think happened. So many stories - a building being blown apart with a woman still having a shower. However maybe age may have constituted to these views.

Navy

When I finished my work experience I quickly volunteered for the merchant Navy, as this was my only chance to make gain a snippet of the war. I was nearly seventeen and needed to make it to eighteen to enlist in the ‘old contemptible’, and seventeen to volunteer. It was usual for teenagers to break the rules by changing their age to become actively involved in the war.

I became a caterer on the Dutch troop ship named the Pno. We were often convoying around the Atlantic minesweeping. This was a dangerous mission where floating mines normally determined where we went. Ideally, ships should not use their weaponry to shoot at mines this is because it can create a disastrous impact.

On watch, our crew did not do a good job of spotting the mines; our telescopes regularly sighted oil barrels rather than mines. I remember many a false alarm. It was said that men with fortune often saved the ship; to this call we had to take evasive action since everyone was determined to live. To top it of, we also had the gruesome lecture from our captain.

We had rather difficult times on the ship, our accommodation was the gantry of the ship — this is the base of the ship where you have the cannons. While sleeping I found it difficult to breathe. It was also frustrating when the sea was raging, since this made it difficult for the propeller tunnel to hold water.

Melodrama

The war was an experience, which I enjoyed. I guess the war seemed to balance out when compared to today, people were opportune to take on adventure by joining the army, but today the youth have extreme sport.

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