- Contributed byÌý
- gloinf
- People in story:Ìý
- Miss Mary Parker
- Location of story:Ìý
- Berkshire, Essex, Devon, London
- Background to story:Ìý
- Army
- Article ID:Ìý
- A3157283
- Contributed on:Ìý
- 20 October 2004
I am on the right My pal Olive Patterson on the left "Bobby" if you are still out there, It would be wonderful to meet up again.
I joined the ATS in 1940 and I was stationed in Colchester, Essex, which was a garrison town where we had troops from all the armed forces and were eventually joined by the Americans. I remember days when I passed the rifle range and saw them practicing and also in the fields nearby. We were also close to the First Aid area where there werenurses - known as Fannys -who drove the ambulances to and from the military hospital.
There was a lot of activity during this period and we were not aware that Dunkirk was so imminent. We had many disturbed nights with air—raids. We girls had different night duties patrolling the ATS quarters, — checking that all lights were out and that the black out windows were rendered safe. One night, another girl and I were out there and we heard a shell flying over our heads. We threw ourselves flat on the ground.
Early one morning, a doodlebug came over and just missed a large barracks where several soldiers were billeted. This was very close to us, and later we went to inspect the damage: it was awful.
I was in Devon when Army chaps returned from Dunkirk. You cannot imagine how dreadful they looked; they were hardly able to stand on parade as General Ironside inspected them. Some had hardly any uniform left on their backs. The poor chaps escaped with just their lives, it was so moving. But they were the lucky ones when some of their friends never came back. Everyone did their bit in those days in order to keep Hitler from our shores.
I was in Fulford Barracks on a short course when we had to get into large trucks to take urns of tea and coffee to the local station to meet a troop train of soldiers who did not know where they were or where they were going, and we were not allowed to tell them the name of the station because all stations had their names removed for security reasons, (Careless Talk Cost Lives) —We saw this notice everywhere.
I was on leave one week—end in London and met up with a sister of mine and some friends in a cafe. Sitting next to us were two army girls who had been in France, helping our chaps to hide in safe houses. The Germans caught the girls and you just cannot imagine the awful treatment they went through.
One girl showed us the grisly tops of her fingers where all her nails had been removed, —one every couple of days. It does not bear thinking what the poor girl suffered.
We always carried our gas mask and helmet when we left camp, and had to sign a book in the Guard Room when we left and on our return. This was all part of a routine, which everyone had to adhere to.
I had two sisters who also played their part during the war, where one worked in a factory that made tanks, and the other was in an aircraft factory that made parts for the planes to keep them in the skies. In those days, most people were in uniform of some sort. The spirit of the people was remarkable.
When for example they finished their day's work at the offices in London, they would make their way to the air raid shelters, which in fact consisted of the underground network.
The station platforms would be full of peoplebut, again, the spirit was there in abundance in that there was always some form of entertainment. Singers would be joined by musicians who would bring along their instruments and we would have a jolly good old sing song, —all of this to take peoples’ minds of the bombing that was rampant on the streets above ground night after night.
The people would bring in all sorts of bedding to sleep on; some would even sleep between the tracks when the trains would cease running. This would normally be midnight when all power would be switched off to allow people to sleep.
In the mornings, a lot of people found that they had no homes to return to and the streets would be littered with rubble.
To conclude, regrettably, the current generation will never understand what the people of this country went through, and the suffering they had to endure, to save our land from Hitler and his gruesome regime.
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