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We lived on the seafront at Elmer, between Bognor and Littlehampton, in a house called ‘Edge O’ Beyond’.
In the late 1930’s we gradually we saw more and more ‘military’ aircraft (actually mostly Fleet Air Arm from Ford airfield) particularly the funny old Walrus amphibian, and the Swordfish biplane torpedo bomber, both of which were incredibly slow. As the 1930’s progressed, they often seemed to be having exercises- the Walruses were often dropping smoke bombs out at sea which occasionally got washed up on the beach- usually only the fins, but sometimes a whole one, and we were most seriously warned not to touch them.
Another indication of approaching trouble was the frequent background noise of the naval guns practising, particularly those on Culver cliff on the Isle of Wight, which often made a background rumbling. In 1938 or 1939 we went for a holiday at Sandown, which was not a good choice. The Culver cliff guns were deafening, although we had got the ‘entertainment’ of seeing the targets that they were firing at- big canvas targets on floats towed behind a high-speed launch. They did not seem to get hit very often.
Then came great gloom; sitting by the radio and hearing Mr Chamberlain’s announcement that we were at war. My Father looked very serious and explained that he did not know what was going to happen, but for sure everything was going to change. My father’s Art School in London swiftly closed, and after everything had been put into storage my father went back to his old job at Lloyds- in shipping insurance.
There was a period early in the war when nothing much seemed to happen at home, but the news was always bad- and then came Dunkirk. Shortly after this the army arrived at 4.30 am and started digging slit trenches in the front garden, and announced that we had to be out of the house in 4 days as invasion was expected.
The first problem my parents faced was where to live. After a few frantic weeks while the furniture was put in store and we stayed in lodgings (I think I actually stayed with Miss McTavish, my schoolteacher, for a few days) we went to stay with Auntie Kitty, Granny’s sister-in-law, now a widow, who lived in Downview Road in Felpham. A big house and she did her best to make us welcome but I know I was very much aware that we were only visitors. The war was then beginning to be felt in earnest; from Auntie Kitty’s house we saw the start of what at the time seemed a devastating raid on Ford airfield- serried ranks of aeroplanes high up to the south, and then all of a sudden they were diving all over the place in a most dramatic and noisy way (they were Stuka dive-bombers, which were always spectacular). It was just getting really exciting when someone grabbed me and shoved me in the cupboard under the stairs and more or less sat on me- I was most disappointed, and in spite of the noise I doubt whether we were at much risk, as Ford airfield was some distance away.
The fairly close proximity of two airfields (the other was Tangmere) meant that we saw a lot of aircraft activity, and especially early in the war, a number of raids on them. Ford was soon back in action, and was not seriously raided again. Tangmere suffered a reasonably successful raid, but local legend said that a repeat raid the following day with 17 aircraft suffered 100% losses- the RAF was waiting for them. Whether the story was true or not there were few major raids after the early days; the RAF seemed to have got their act together (or radar enabled them to know when to expect someone!). From then on raids were of the type that was soon known as ‘tip and run’- very quick, so much so that it became local legend that the sound of the air-raid siren meant that it was all over, which was almost invariably true. Most people, and especially small boys, became extremely good at instant aircraft recognition, even from a fleeting glance behind a house or trees (they were usually very low)- and experts on engine noises, too.
The proximity of the airfields meant that aircraft tended to appear in all sorts of unusual places- the golf course was at the end of Downview Road, and I recall going to see a rather bent Spitfire on one of the greens one morning. After nine months with Auntie Kitty my parents rented a house in Middleton-on-Sea- a semi-detached thatched house. The house was nothing special, but the garden was marvellous; almost an acre in extent, lots of grass, shrubs, a huge vegetable garden, an orchard and room for lots of chickens (we soon had about 25). Its only disadvantage was that it was very much in the flight-path to Ford airfield, so it was very noisy, mostly because of the low-flying Mosquitoes (and later the even noisier Hornets), but we soon got used to that. I remember that the cat completely ignored overhead noises, including aerial dogfights, but was terrified if a bomb fell- the vibration, presumably.
Because the area we lived in was regarded as a war zone, there were special restrictions on the local inhabitants- but they did not seem to apply to children. Not that there were many, as a large proportion of the population moved away early in the war, and children had in many cases been evacuated.
Because of the garden, the chickens and the rural situation we seemed to be quite well fed, although I think my Mother in particular sacrificed her rations to ensure that I had enough. School was in Bognor, about 3 miles away, and I went on the 50 or 50a bus with a number of others. I suppose it taught me something, but I remember little of the teaching. The school playground had a big air-raid shelter. I can only remember going in it officially on one occasion, and then nothing much happened. The only time the school had anything near it was when the centre of Bognor was raided, late in the war- 3 FW190’s (very fast and noisy) came in from the west, right over the school, and dropped at least one bomb almost in the centre of the shops (there is a supermarket there now!)-broke acres of shop window glass, I believe 44 people injured but nobody killed. Official reports said that all three planes were shot down and it seems quite likely- the AA bofors gunners on the seafront were pretty good by then. Us schoolboys heard them coming (some of us were outside at the time) and dived indoors- unfortunately there was a skylight in the hall, which showered broken glass down (it missed). When we went outside again there was a bit of the playground wall missing, so it was probably just as well we went in.
One good reason for taking cover during a raid was the miscellaneous bits of rubbish that fell out of the sky; shrapnel was the most obvious, and it was the hobby of most small boys to collect it. Sometimes you found it lying in the road or other hard surface, but often it would be buried. On smooth grass it was easy to spot; a favourite place was an old abandoned tennis court, which seemed to have a layer of chalk under it; digging where the white marks were was usually very productive, as it did not penetrate far. The other hazard was empty cannon-shell cases if there had been an aerial dogfight, which were big and did quite a bit of damage, breaking tiles, etc., and not very healthy for anyone in the open, although I never heard of anyone being hit by one. I had a good collection!
I had a bicycle and was allowed to get about on it. My mother also rode a bicycle; I suppose she had learned as a child, but she wasn’t very ‘with it’. Her bike was a large, heavy-framed machine which she rode very slowly, and her objective when going round corners was to ensure that she did not lean over.
All through the war my Father continued going to London by train every day- a pretty traumatic experience, I think. He went before 7 am and was not often back until after 7pm, and often a lot later if the bombing had been bad- I know my Mother got very screwed up about it if he was late- and sometimes he was very late. Then he was also an Air Raid Warden and would sometimes have to go out again at night, but on the whole I don’t think his duties were too arduous. I do remember one daylight raid (a lone bomber) when he heard the appropriate noises and was just going out of the front door when there were the multiple explosions of several bombs some distance away- the slight blast effect caused him to take a pace of about two yards as he went out of the door! (the bombs fell in the corner of a field, and as far as I could tell didn’t even kill a rabbit). Other raids were more spectacular. My Mother used to collect food scraps from several neighbours for the chickens, and was at the back door of a house about two doors from home when I saw a Dornier 17 ( like most small boys, my aircraft recognition was very good) coming down the main road, firing at everything along the way. She was showered with bits of broken tiles off the roof which were hit by bullets, but was unhurt. Some of the tracer set fire to the roof of a thatched house across the road (ours was thatched too!) and there was quickly a great schemozzle- the army were billeted in there, and it transpired that they had ammunition stored in the loft; my Father said that they had crates of hot hand-grenades that they were standing in puddles in the road! The Dornier was less lucky; it was actually hit by an infantry Bren-gunner from a Canadian regiment who were marching down the road at the time, and was finally shot out of the sky by Bofors AA guns set-up to protect Bognor gas-works- unfortunately the main body of the aircraft fell on the gas-works, the bombs fell on the road, and the railway line was cut too.
On another occasion a bomb fell in the middle of Middleton-on-Sea in a front garden (near the shops) and the whole front garden was a huge crater. However the house itself appeared little damaged except that there was a large lump of turf on the chimney-pot. The houses across the road- some distance away- were badly blast-damaged. In Elmer, behind the parade of shops close to ‘Edge-O’ Beyond’ a bomb was dropped at low level and went through the roof of a semi-bungalow a bit to the east, came out of the upstairs window, skidded some distance on its side and exploded in the yard behind the shops. The crater was quite small but the blast damage to the building was considerable. I remember that there was a bath hanging out of an upstairs window, still attached to the waste-pipe.
All this was exciting stuff for a small boy, but I have several memories which made a very strong impression. I used to take the neighbour’s little dog for a walk (a Terrier) - it was quite all right for a child to walk alone in those days! and I had gone down Ancton Lane (where I had used to go with Nanny) and a lone damaged bomber came over- a Martin Marauder- twin engined-with one engine stopped, and obviously in a bad way- making for Ford. It fired two flares, one red, one white, meaning it was damaged and had wounded aboard (obviously no radio either) and went round to approach Ford from the east- I could see it right down almost to ground level, but not quite to touch-down. A few seconds later there was an enormous column of flame and smoke and in a bit I heard the dull explosion. I stood and looked and thought for an age, and when I got home I told my parents, but I am sure they did not realise the effect the incident had on me.
Other returning bombers used to use the local airfields in emergency or when others were too congested (they often all came back at once) and some of these were sometimes quite badly damaged, too; the American B-17 ‘Flying Fortress’ was a common sight, often with at least one engine stopped which did not seem to inconvenience them in the slightest. However one of them ran out of flying ability and made a crash-landing in the fields between Bognor and Felpham. The UK authorities, too, had been worried about airborne landings and all large open fields had poles and wires all over them to make glider landings impracticable. The poor old B-17 did not have the option, and tore through the lot of them, slid across the field, through an orchard, hit a large hedge with one wing and swivelled round to end up with one wing-tip about 5 feet from the back door of a house in Downview Road- about two doors away from where we had stayed with Aunt Kitty. One crew member had a dislocated shoulder and the old lady who lived in the house is reputed to have had a heart attack! Us small boys managed to get past the guards and have a good look- what sticks in my memory was thousands of little green apples spread all over the place, and the engine cowlings which were stuffed full of new-mown hay! Also I remember the ammunition boxes for the side gunners were made of wood. The biggest problem for the local residents was that it shed several thousand gallons of aviation fuel, which in those days was high-octane petrol- like liquid dynamite- nobody was allowed to strike a match in that area for weeks.
We also sometimes saw the returning bombers from the ‘thousand bomber raids’ which were always impressive; I am sure no-one today could appreciate the number of aircraft involved in the war. One morning we looked out and the whole sky was bright pink with the sunrise on the many hundreds of vapour trails. Sometimes they came back at night and landed at local airfields, when there was a lot of noise and occasional explosions, as German aircraft would come with them and cause trouble.
And then came D-Day. We knew it was coming for a long time- the build-up of troops and equipment, and although we didn’t often go near the seaside as it was out of bounds and covered in anti-invasion gear (great concrete blocks on the land and palisades of scaffolding poles set in the sand), one day when we did we saw them practising beach assault close in. As the invasion got near we saw things likes blocks of flats out at sea being towed towards Portsmouth- later we knew that these were parts of Mulberry Harbour, the temporary ‘port’ built on the Normandy beaches. The roads were full of vehicles, and we saw tanks (big ones) being driven along the road- they did so much damage that there was a team of road-men following them and patching up. We knew for sure when the actual invasion started, before it was announced- we were woken up at 4.30am by the aeroplanes. As small boys we were used to watching them coming and going, and counting whether they all came back; from this time on they all went out and came back almost to a timetable, and it was very unusual for any to be missing. For us, who judged everything on the apparent effectiveness of our air power, this virtually meant that the war was as good as over! Then we saw what must be one of the most incredible sights in history- one of the great airborne armadas, with the sky full of aircraft towing gliders and transport planes carrying paratroopers; the sky was black with them from one horizon to the other for what seemed like hours on end.
We did not suffer very much from the V1 ‘doodlebugs’ that were such a menace in London and the south-east- we saw enough of them, and some fell in the area; they were nasty sinister things- everyone listening to see if the noise was going to stop- but I think the ones that came our way were largely ‘strays’. We cheered one day when we saw one going the wrong way! I believe we also saw the result of a V2 rocket- one summer’s day we heard a bang and saw the most incredible column of smoke- somewhere in the Clymping direction- that I later understood had been attributed to a V2.
However, from D-Day on, the war seemed to move away from us; we no longer seemed to be in the ‘front line’, and it did not seem long before it was all over in Europe. We had been told that the war with Japan would take a long time, but then came news of the atom bomb and almost at once it was all over. The world would never be the same again.

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