大象传媒

This story was written by my grand-dad Frank Abbott.

"June 1939 the war clouds were gathering, the atmosphere was most un-real, gas masks, identity cards, ration books and air raid shelters (Anderson Stell buried in the garden and earthed over) issued to everybody. The gas mask for young babies was dreadful, it was a metal frame with windows (perspex) a skirt draped on the bottom which tied up once the child was placed inside a hand pump attached to the outside which the Mother, or whoever was in charge of the child, had to operate for the baby to breathe. The job vacancies jumped up, getting ready for war, men were changing jobs trying to get into reserved occupations, joing the Fire Brigade, ARP and the LDV, anything to delay their call-up. All reservists were called back to the colours, the 20-21 year olds were called up and some already in training (militia), no wonder everyone was jittery, we all wondered what it was going to be like and the war finally came on September 3rd.
With the war I knew that sooner or later I would have to go and in the summer of 1940, just after the fall of France, I was called up for the Army (Royal Artillery, searchlights). I was just 28 at the time and a little set in my ways, but under canvas we went (Arbury Park, Nuneaton). At 6.00 o'clock wash, shave (cold water) blankets folded, groundsheet kit all neatly stacked, no beds we slept on the floor, prompt at 7.00 o'clock the PT Instructor (Mister Muscles) would be there jumping about like Zebbedee! 30 minutes of this before breakfast, after breakfast the drill sargeants would take over shouting and bawling. We became very fit and alert which maybe stood us in good stead in later situations. Everybody was on edge half expecting the German's to come dropping out of the sky, the tents were in straight lines and set apart correctly but one night around 2 o'clock there was uproar the Sergeants were shouting, kit out, tents down, carry them accross the park and put them under the trees and large bushes for camouflage. They thought that the enemy would notice in their spotter planes the straight lines and realise it was an Army camp.
Three weeks later I was sent out on site as a spotter with binoculars and swivel chair, the third night I had my first experience of being bombed, very frightening, an air-raid was on, we could hear an aircraft coming directly overhead, the Detachment Commander ordered Engage, the light went up (I was in my chair a short distance away) when suddenly there whistled down a bomb and an explosion which rattled my teeth. Time the second one was on it's way down I was out of the chair and on the deck closer than a cow-pat! There were four bombs, the nearest about 150 yards away and when I saw the craters next morning it did not do much for my morale. No doubt the German pilot thought he had got us, but he was a degree of two out, the only casualty was a poor old horse in the next field, he hadn't a mark on him he was just lying on his back with his legs stickign straight out close to the cater, probably the blast killed him. I thought poor devil he wasn't doing any harm.
It was about this time when they started to sort the new boys out and I was sent on a course to operate the lamp (electrics), became a Grade Three Electrican, gained a stripe then on to Radar, another stripe (Bombardier) became a detachment Commander Lamp with a crew of my own. The Radar was fantastic, 99% bang on every time if the equipment and searchlights were correctly aligned but the Germans soon got wise and got up to all sorts of dodges (dropping streamers or tinfoil etc) to confuse the readings on the Radar screen. In '43 we were converted to Guns 40mm (Bofors), bacame a Lance Sergeant, next time a full sergeant. When there was no more air raids I was transferred to 5-5 Medium (Battery Essex) by then a W/S Sergeant and for a time acting BSM . There was the offer to carry on but my wife Millie said no, quite right I suppose, she had been on her own long enough, so after serving in the Orkney Islands, France and Germany I was finally demobbed in February 1946, nearly six years, safe and sound back to Millie and the kids, work, peace and rationing which did carry on into '54. So back home things were still austere, the great relief was no more air-raids".

Frank passed away in July 1992.

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