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This story has been written onto the ´óÏó´«Ã½ People’s War site by Cornwall CSV Storygatherer, Martine Knight, on behalf of Leslie Collins. His story was given to the Trebah WW2 Video Archive, supported by the Heritage Lottery Fund in 2004. The Trebah Garden Trust understands the terms and conditions of the site.

I was ‘in exile’ working in London when war broke out. The night before the declaration of war all the lights and illuminated advertising signs in Piccadilly and Leicester Square were switched off. A large crowd gathered outside 10, Downing Street. I went back to my flat and got into bed. A huge thunderstorm started, but I thought that war and bombing had begun.
After the Prime Minister made his broadcast the air raid sirens sounded. Everyone ran around in confusion, but nothing happened.
Next day I tried to enlist in the Navy, but they couldn’t take people because they were too busy calling up reservists. I had to wait until I was called up at Christmas. First I was put into the Navy and told to go home and wait for orders, but, after Dunkirk, they recalled me into the Army. I served in the East Surrey Regiment.

Most of my service was in the West Country and I was in Plymouth during the blitz. On the first night I was in a cinema with a friend and, as we left, Spooners store took a direct hit. We ended up lying on the pavement covered in glass. We found a trailer pump and set to with that, until the water ran out, before returning to our billet in Plympton.
I spent a lot of time on demolition and digging people out of the rubble. I once had to direct traffic at Drake’s Circus and got into a right snarl up.

Later I was stationed at Nansloe Manor in Helston on a Bren Gun carrier platoon. On our first day I took some colleagues to show them the town and was spotted by the mayor — Mr Leonard Oliver. He arranged that all the men stationed in the town could go to a local home on one night a week for a meal and a bath. I never knew that done anywhere else. It was a mighty feat of organisation. We received more hospitality whilst stationed in Cornwall than anywhere else we went.

I became an unofficial ADC to Brigadier General Montague Bates, who was in charge of the Home guard for the whole of the Lizard peninsula. He was based at Gweek and a family friend. He used to be in the East Surreys so he ‘requisitioned’ me, along with a motorcycle.
I helped with installing flame traps at Gweek. They consisted of 40 gallon drums filled with a deadly mixture of phosphorous, chemicals and inflammable materials which could be fired along a length of drainpipe to produce a huge flame about 100’ high and 200’ long.
About two years later, whilst home on leave, I helped de-commission them as I seemed to be the only one who knew where they were and how they worked.

There was a radar station at Goonhilly and we guarded it, stationed at Trelowarren, but I got to spend a lot of time at home in Gweek.
Gweek suffered several bombings, often when planes jettisoned bombs before heading home. Sadly, one occasion was witnessed by one of the Home Guard men, Albert Richards, who saw a bomb fall on his home — it killed his wife.

My brother was in the 47th Royal Dragoon Guards and they had amphibious Sherman tanks and were dropped offshore to land on the beaches on D-Day. He was later killed in battle.

Before the war my grandmother ran Gweek post office and my mother took it over in the 1930’s so I lived there from the age of ten. Prices were very different then — 2d for a phone call and 4d for a loaf of bread. I delivered telegrams on my pushbike.
The telephone in the post office was wall mounted and you wound a handle to get connected to the switchboard in Helston. If the phone rang once it was for us, twice it was for Bonallack Manor and three times for Merthen.

My father was a livestock auctioneer during the war — particularly at Helston cattle market. When meat went onto rationing cattle had to be brought to the market for grading, which influenced the price paid. Then the cattle were sent all over the country, being walked up through the streets to the railway station — sometimes as many as 100-150. This continued after the war until rationing ended. The cattle often caused damage to parked cars and I spent a lot of time filling in accident reports. One well-known Helston shop — Oxenhams — once had a large steer go in through its open door and, afterwards, there was a lot of ‘mess’ all over the stock. It took some sorting out!

I served in North Africa - Tunisia and Egypt — and then in Italy, landing in Naples just as the Germans were pulling out. The Royal Marine engineers had landed shortly before and built a walkway across the hull of a sunken ship in the docks. One of them was a Helston boy and my closest friend, both then and now. He was Dick Head, son of Colonel Head, Helston’s vet.
As we prepared to attack Monte Casino I was taken ill with diphtheria, pneumonia and pleurisy and that was the end of my active service.

Video details CWS110804

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