大象传媒

I lived with my Mum and Dad in the village of Borough Green in Kent

Borough Green in the early years of the war was for a young boy, a busy and exciting place to be. Sitated some seven miles from West Malling aerodrome, with a large Army training camp five miles away near Wrotham, at what subsequently became the basis of Trosley village, plus an ammunition camp in the woods near Wrotham Heath,barrage balloons all around and seemingly endless convoys and columns of marching men to and from the railway station,which was a few hundred yards from our bungalow.

It was quite a steep hill into the station yard and in snow and ice conditions we would toboggan and make ice slides in and out of the traffic. Soldiers in their hob nailed boots were "better" on our slides than us in our "wellies".

Dad was in the Observer Corps throughout the war. They worked twenty four hour cover , in four hour shifts, alongside their day jobs. In Dads case he was an Accountant, I remember Mr Kennett, the Taxi Driver, my Uncle Wally who was a milkman, Mr Rogers a Builder and Mr Large who worked on the railway. Plus others who juggled their jobs with these duties, and there were also those who were retired, therefore they would have been well into their late sixties, early seventies by the time the war ended .

This I realise now was not just a physically demanding time on the home front, but there was the constant fear of what was going to happen. These fears must have been continually in the minds of all adults. Yet as a child I was totally unaware.
Dad told me later that the Observers were warned of the enemy plane numbers they were to expect and plot,they felt the situation was an impossible one.

And then there was Borough Green Fire Brigade. So famous that many years later Lesney produced a model of their Rolls Royce Silver Ghost based fire engine. Which the brigade bought with the monies Insurance companies paid them to put out fires on the premised they insured. As it was a car it had to be converted which they also paid for. It was used throughout the war towing the ubiquitous Dennis trailer pump.It was then commandeered off them at the end of the war!. Bob Cloke who was Mr Fire Brigade tried hiding it in a haystack, but it had to go.

Dad was their Treasurer, and the car was I think bought from Viscount Falmouth, for 拢25,and it cost another 拢25 to convert.
He was also in charge of emergency food supplies for the village. He even had a revolver for a time. Dont, ask why. He kept it locked in a filing cabinet. One day I got hold of it and rushed to my friend Tony Jessup.We brandished it about, until caught. I was surprised how heavy it was..

Clokes' Stores run by brothers Bob and Dick was a large grocery shop,with Post and Sorting ofice attached, plus a cellar, in case of air raids. All of the shop,s male staff were firemen and rushed off when the siren started. This was also controlled from Clokes, and occasionally myself and Gerald Cloke were allowed to pull this big brass knob up and down to work it. Marvellous!

I sailed through these times totally unaware of what was really happening in the real world. Sleeping night after night in the air raid shelter in the garden. Grandad had made me a hammock out of sugar sacks, we had candles standing in biscuit tins for light, plus emergency rations. I think we had a Primus stove at one time. We used to go back in doors when the "All Clear" sounded.
I collected shrapnel, and other "souvenirs", occasionally Mother would have barrage ballon fabric, or best of all parachute silk to make things of.

I would spend days at the Balloon site. Young boys and girls mixing with men from all walks of life and far from home. Never at risk, there were no problems, and for us kids it was great. If there were any camp concerts the village children attended as a matter of course.

I remember my Grandad patrolling in ARP tin hat, equipped with whistle and wooden rattle. In the day he worked at the local woodyard making tent pegs. Hundred and hundreds of lovely smooth wooden trent pegs with chamfered edges, and good sharp notches. I wish I had one now.

One Christmas morning I shall nver forget sitting in bed with Mum and my Grandmother opening a pillow case full of presents. I was horribly spoilt.

My grandmother started crying I asked her "Why"
She said I'm thinking off all the children who have nothing"
"Oh" I said "All children have presents on Christmas Day".

I now know to my eternal shame that the gas chambers and crematoria did not close for Christmas.

I still feel guilty.

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