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This story is taken from an interview with Major John Potter, and has been added to the site with his permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions. The interview and transcription was by Bruce Logan.
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[rationing]
Very dull. There weren’t many treats.

[rationing was scientifically calculated]
Well, being in NI we were actually considerably better-off than most people, because we pretty much grew our own food anyway. And what you couldn’t get you nipped over the border and got.
I don’t think there were [Portstewart allotments]. Of course, they brought fish in. They were quite a large fishing community in Portstewart in those days, so we had plenty of fish. Everybody had smugglers trains going down south, and when they were coming back, the old ladies, they had everything stuffed under their dresses or … I remember seeing a photograph taken at Gorragh Wood, which is where the border starts, looking on the offside of the train. And all the handles of the doors had bottles of this, that and the other hanging.

Smuggling was a very reasonable trade, a very respectable trade — everyone did it. But the customs were very harsh indeed. The theory was that they sent it back to Dublin, where the rumour was it was sold and they pocketed the proceeds. But that was probably just a malicious rumour from people who’d had something confiscated.
See how different it is nowadays, you hardly notice you’ve crossed the border.

[Morellis]
The ice cream man? They were stuck here in the North, and 1 or more than 1 of the sons was in the Italian army. I think probably Mr Morelli was let out before the war’s end. I mean, he couldn’t have been a loyaler subject. I’m glad they’ve flourished since.

We lived in a house right down at the water’s edge, a place called Bernville. Do you know where Port-Na-Happle is? Beside the cliff path? We lived there. It was an absolutely marvellous place to live, because if you looked out the upstairs sitting room window into the bay, and a wild day with the breakers coming in, it was absolutely marvellous place to be.

The convent went on as usual. I don’t think Portstewart was touched very much by the war. It all went on its own sweet way.
[little oasis of peace]

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