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When the war broke out, I was a van boy for a local transport firm and, a fortnight later on the 18th September, I was old enough to apply for a licence. By October I had passed my test and was upgraded to driver. I drove a three ton Morris Commercial, CPL 510. My area was Coventry but this meant starting at Weedon, Daventry, Rugby and every village between. By the time I had loaded the vehicle, it was usually between 10 and 11am but it was usually gone ten before I finished at night. Of course, no overtime payment was paid.

The responsibility of the job did worry me at first but, being young, I soon settled down but there were two deliveries that really got to me. At M&S in the High Street, because of the bad condition of the lane at the side of the shop, everything had to be carried the length of the store to the warehouse at the rear. I did, at times, spend an hour on this one delivery. The other was at Alfred Herbert, the engineers. If I could carry the consignment, I was OK but if it happened to be heavy and was a crane job, it was usually a wait in a long queue.

At the time of Dunkirk, I went to work one morning to find the floor of my van was covered with 5-gallon drums of camouflage paint for army barracks at Southam which would mean delivering on my way home. Due to capacity and weight, some of the goods for Coventry had to be left off so I could see an early night for a change. I got to the barracks about 7pm and pulled up near the Guardroom. No-one wanted to know, so I dropped the tailboard and lifted a couple of drums off - this got things going.

A couple of soldiers were hanging around. They said they lived near my depot and that they had come back from Dunkirk and were confined to barracks and could I take them out when I left? I told them I couldn’t help them but, if they were on the lorry after I pulled down the tailsheet, I wasn’t to know. I felt so sorry for them, I knew that they had had a rough time but the two soldiers had increased to nine by the time I started dropping them off at Northampton.

By the beginning of August 1940, the job was getting too much. I left the Depot one Friday morning after having a blazing row with the manager. I told him to stick the job but I knew this was out of the question. However, as I passed through Northampton I saw my way out. I pulled up outside the Recruiting Office, went in and asked an army Sergeant where I volunteered for the Navy. I had a silly idea that I could be with an uncle who had been in for 18 years. The Sergeant said there were no sailors required as we had no ships but he suggested, as I was a tall, smart lad, why not join the Guards? Two weeks later, I was in. Looking back later, that Sergeant had a Grenade cap badge — I recognised it because I cleaned one for the next six years.

*THIS STORY WAS SUBMITTED TO THE PEOPLES' WAR WEBSITE BY A VOLUNTEER FROM ´óÏó´«Ã½ ESSEX ON BEHALF OF RON SANDERS AND HAS BEEN ADDED TO THE SITE WITH HIS PERMISSION. HE UNDERSTANDS THE SITE'S TERMS AND CONDITIONS.

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