大象传媒

It was during the war that I spent six years of my childhood years in a small hospital called The Marguerite Hepton Children's Hospital at a place called Thorpe Arch, which is close to Wetherby in Yorkshire.

I am 68 years of age now, so the memories are growing dim; but still, snippets keep coming back to me. The reason I was in there was because of tuberculosis of the spine which had developed as a result of an accident in the home. I don't remember too much about the very beginning but what I do remember is that at some time, I became aware that there was an ammunitions store or factory which was quite close to the hospital. Naturally, this was a prime target for German bombers.

As a precaution against a gas attack every body, staff and patients, were issued with gas masks. At that time it was thought that the ordinary regulation issue was quite a frightening thing for children to cope with so we were issued with masks that had been designed to look like Disney characters or as near as possible to them.
We were all given a choice and I chose Mickey Mouse and boy! Did I love that mask?

We were given instructions how to use them and we were allowed to keep them in our lockers; we were told only to use them when the air raid sirens were heard.

You must appreciate, that as children, we didn't really understand the danger we were in when those sirens wailed ominously. All I can remember is that I could hardly wait for them to go off, and when they did, I was thrilled by the sound and I would quickly don my beloved Mickey Mouse and wait to be carted off to the air raid shelter along with the other children.

I remember a bomb dropping in the hospital grounds one night. We all heard the noise of it hitting the ground and nobody could understand why there was no damage. It turned out to be an unexploded bomb. Sometime later, I don't know how much later, one of the nurses carried me out to see the crater it had made.

I can also remember that on really hot summer days we used to be taken outside to enjoy the sunshine and fresh air. Our beds were set on fairly large wheels so they were easy to transport to the outdoors. On these occasions I would sometimes look up and would often see lots of aerial activity, whether these were aircraft in combat situations I don't know, but I liked to think so. A lot of people today, think that vapour trails are a thing that only modern aircraft make, but I can tell you that there were many vapour trails in those days, making crazy patterns in the sky.

Towards the end of the war the main aerial activity seemed to consist of Spitfires or Hurricanes practising fire on targets trailed by Lancaster bombers.

In 1945 I left the hospital where I had spent such a large chunk of my childhood. I was going out in the world to fulfill my dreams of becoming a Spitfire pilot; little realising that by the time I came of age, aircraft would have altered considerably. Nevertheless, it was an adventure even to be going home and I felt excited by the prospect. At the same time I was deeply saddened! I had to give up my beloved Mickey Mouse gas mask because it was government property. The mask had meant so much to me and I wept bitterly at its loss!

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