大象传媒

1st September 1939. We left school about 10 0鈥檆lock to walk in a long crocodile to Charlton Station. I was 13; my brothers, Dennis, 9 and Peter,5. Boys from the Central School, younger brothers and sisters, teachers with wives and small children. Parents, mostly mothers, followed the slow march.

A steam train rolled slowly to our 鈥渦nknown鈥� destination 鈥� Tonbridge in Kent. The thirty miles seemed a thousand.

A bus took us about 100 yards to a hall for something to drink and eat. Gradually children were collected until just we three and another threesome were left. Eventually a bus with a couple of teachers took us to a road where teacher knocked on doors. My classmate, brother and sister were taken in. At the very last house we were admitted on a temporary basis. We had some cocoa, the 9 0鈥檆lock news was on the wireless, we curled up three in a bed.

In the dark Dennis said, 鈥淭ony, I want to go home鈥�.

We had five billets in the twenty months before I left school 鈥� a widows lodging house, with an elderly couple over anxious over their only son in the Navy, a much younger couple who, I believe, took us expecting soldiers would be billeted, the fourth, during the time of Dunkirk, bombings, and Battle of Britain, ended in an upset after the foster mother sneaked a letter I was writing home, and my last, with a widow, more homely, a dog, and a swede stew.

1940
We walked across the playing field littered with old carts, tar barrels, and other obstacles to foil German Gliders. I held Peters hand, Dennis ran ahead. A Spitfire glided down and landed nose down on the far side of a brook. As we ran towards it an engine roared and a German ME109 swooped low. To this day I marvel at our reaction. Dennis flattened on a cattle bridge, I pulled Peter to the ground. The German did not fire evidently being satisfied that the Spit was done. By the time we got up soldiers were round our plane covering it鈥檚 markings.

Hop 鈥� Picking at Tudeley a dog-fight was building 鈥攗p above. Teachers ordered us into a ditch. Seasoned pickers bombed out from Croydon jumped and shouted abuse to the Germans and cheers to 鈥渙ur boys鈥� at the swarming fighters in the clear blue sky. A German ME110 circled the field its wing tip nearly touching the tops of the hop-poles. No sound of engine, it was clearly looking for somewhere to land. In unison us kids charged out of the ditch hoping to see the plane crash. Worried teachers formed a line to herd us like sheep back to cover. Reluctantly we conceded on the promise that one of our masters would go and find where the German came down.

From the top of a public earth-covered shelter we watched the stream of German Bombers to the north, making for London. At night I pulled back the black-out curtains of our billet bedroom and saw the distant red glow over London. My brothers slept. I wondered whether we were now orphans.

1943
I worked in the City from the day Russia was invaded in 1941. On a visit to Highgate, I saw a lorry stacked with wooden coffins. Later I learned of the tube disaster at Bethnal Green in which 178 were crushed to death. There was no air-raid that day.

1944
First day of conscription in the Royal Navy:
On swearing 鈥� 鈥淵ou don鈥檛 want to go to tea with your girl friends parents and say 鈥減lease pass the Fg sugar.鈥�

Re-bowels - 鈥淲hether you go once a day, once a week, or month, or year, if you cease to be regular report sick.鈥�

All day along the country road by RAF Henlow where I was training to be a Fleet Air Arm Air Mechanic, ran a never ending convoy of army trucks, tanks , jeeps and troops. The next day it was announced that the Allies had landed in Normandy.

A telegram from mum said our house had been blasted. All leave was banned because of D-Day but I got a pass for 48 hours. A land 鈥攎ine had dropped three houses away on an emergency water tank put there after a 1940 bomb had blown up the house. We had lost tiles, doors smashed, windows shattered, and my dog had premature pups and would not let me near.

1945
I could never have imagined that a 20,000 ton troop carrying liner could have been tossed about so much. January in the Atlantic was rough. I was horribly sea-sick and curled on the gangway by a water-tight door I was to secure if the ship was torpedoed.
鈥淲hat鈥檚 wrong with you?鈥� The officer of the watch snapped. 鈥淚 don鈥檛 feel well sir,鈥� I stuttered.
VE-Day in H.M.S. Garuda, RNAS, Coimbatore, India, was a normal working day at the airfield. In the evening I and two mates went to the deserted reading room in the main camp. One played an imaginary trumpet, the other marched round the table which I stood on taking the salute. We hadn鈥檛 been drinking and had only been in the burning sun and stifling heat for three months!

VJ-Day. A day off work was given to the whole ship鈥檚 compliment. There was little to do apart from lay on bunks and sweat. Some celebrated in drink and a group of drunks on the rampage pulled an elderly Indian Tamil from his bicycle and threw him over the protective railings down a well driven deep in the rock underlying the sand. SHAME.
Rumours were that we would be trained up with rifles and bayonets to clear Jap islands. Just rumours.

1946
Arrived in Portsmouth on 10 September after leaving Singapore on 29 July in transit by ship for demobilisation.
20th October. 21st birthday as a civilian.

This story was submitted to the 鈥淧eoples War Site by Rod Aldwinckle of the CSV Action Desk on behalf of Anthony Snitter and has been added to the site with his permission. The author fully understands the terms and conditions of the site.

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