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By the end of 1939, the father (the eldest member of the family), was enrolled on a full
time basis in the Civil Defence Heavy Rescue unit of a London suburb. Almost all of
his adult life had been spent in the building industry, and with his own business
winding-up he was thinking of retirement - just as war was declared.

He was well beyond the age for military service for that to be an option; he had had his
turn in the army a quarter century before, in the first World War. In 1915 he attested
under the Lord Derby Volunteer scheme, and wore the LDV armband, which
protected the wearer from the attentions of women who had white feathers to hand
out. Twelve months later he was serving in the Royal Engineers, helping to keep the
searchlights running at Portsmouth; until he was released in1919.

However now, in this second conflict, his skills and knowledge of building
construction made him an ideal volunteer for this type of civil defence war-work.

Soon after forming, the Rescue Service was divided between light and heavy squads:
father went into the heavy squad. He was one of the three or four trade specialists in
the ten men who made up the squad. They were on duty in shifts and stationed in
whatever accommodation the Local Council could lay its hands on: in this case the
commandeered workshops of a former sewageworks. Their transport was a three-ton
lorry, kitted out with ladders, ropes and tackles, baulks of timber, wheelbarrow,
baskets for manhandling debris, and a great assortment of tools. These were arranged
on a kind of island along the centre of the open bed of the lorry, and the squad sat on
benches either side of it - after the fashion of the crew of an old-time fire engine.
Holding on tight going round corners!

The purpose of both types of squad was to rescue people from damaged buildings, but
the heavy squads were trained and equipped to tunnel into debris; support or remove
dangerous structures, and do whatever was necessary to get at the raid victims.

(A typical ‘Incident’ in the London Blitz is shown in the picture at the head of this. The
Rescue Squad have the letter ‘R’ on their steel helmets.)

Carrying this out could be very hazardous, and sometimes the work pretty grim. A
memorable example for father was trying to find survivors of a direct hit on a surface
shelter filled with people - there were none.

Another thing that stayed with him was the cheerful courage of a small girl, as they
worked to free her from where she was trapped and hurt under the wreckage of her
home. Getting water to her; asking her to do certain things; telling her what they were
going to do next in reaching her; she would answer brightly each time, ‘Okey-Dokey’.
As if to reassure and encourage her helpers.

On one occasion the rescuers themselves came near to needing rescue. A road on
which they were travelling to an incident was struck with a bomb, a minute or two
ahead of their lorry. Returning home that night father appeared in the entrance to the
garden Anderson, in which the family was sheltering, dusty from his work and very
white. His repeated words of being lucky ‘by just two minutes’ showed he was quite
shaken.

Bit by bit the sewage workshop was made more comfortable for the crews as they
waited between raids and attending incidents. With a canteen and some chairs and a
dartboard, and eventually even a billiard table installed. The teams became more
experienced and proficient in the job, and of course, the intensity of the air-raids and
frequency of incidents reduced over time; till finally the rescue units were stood down.

And father had been through his second world war.

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