大象传媒

This is an extract from the memoirs of Harold Francis added to this site with his permission by
Belinda Nash of the Folkestone Heritage Team
The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions

Before war was actually declared it was obvious that something was amiss. The first sign that I remember was a trial run of the black-out, all street lighting had to be switched off, all vehicle headlights had to be masked, and all windows covered so that no lights could be seen from outside in the street. People were also advised to stick about 11\2-inch wide heavy brown paper in the form of a diagonal cross on their windows so as the glass would not fly everywhere when hit by blast from a bomb. I stood on the path in front of our house in Dover road and watched the traffic crawling along; it was so quiet eerie with everywhere so dark.

When the black-out started in earnest, white paint started to appear on lamp-posts, around the mud-guards of cars, in fact on everything that would help them to be seen in the dark. Sandbags started to be neatly piled around strategic buildings, such as the Town hall, which in those days also housed the Police Station, and places that needed to be protected against enemy action such as the hospital, first-aid posts and communication centres. Corporation workers and volunteers filled the vast majority of the sandbags from the sandpit adjacent to Stella-Maris School. There was also the distribution of gasmasks to all civilian men, women, and children. The adults and older children had the same type, the younger children's were made of red rubber with a little snout on them, and were nicknamed Mickey Mouse masks. Young babies'whole bodies were encased in theirs and the mothers had to operate a pump by hand whilst they were inside. We had to collect ours from the building next to the public library on Grace Hill, which had changed it's use so many times that it's a job to put a name to it, although at the time of writing I believe its called Grace Chapel. The masks came in three sizes large, medium, and small, and being a young lad mine was a small. I've never discovered why but after about two weeks we had to return to Grace Hill to have an extra filter taped to the end of the existing one. I appreciate that it was for a type of gas but which one I don't know. Incidentally everyone's gas mask was treated the same and the tape can be seen in old photos or museums.

Recruiting started for members of the public to enrol in the ARP (Air Raid Precautions) later called The Civil Defence. This included Wardens to assist the public in the event of enemy action and to make sure that laws regarding blackout were observed. Then there were the rescue teams, as their name suggests, to rescue people from buildings that had been hit by enemy action. Also people to man the First Aid Posts, doctors, nurses and St John's Ambulance personal. I must not forget us messenger boys with our bikes. There was also the call for men to join The Special Constabulary, purely as volunteers to assist the regular police whose numbers had decreased due to many joining the armed forces.

Then at 11 o'clock on Sunday the 3rd of September 1939 we heard that War was declared. I was just coming up for ten as my birthday is in January. I suppose it didn't mean very much to me. As a young lad of nine I had no idea of what it was all about, but that moment in time stands out very strongly in my mind. I was standing at the top of the steps in front of my house, when the air-raid sirens started and my mother shouted for me to come in doors. I was pushed under the table with the rest of my family, and all the curtains were drawn. As it turned out it was a false alarm, but it was quite a frightening experience, however, soon forgotten.

Evacuees started to arrive from London about this time, and although some schools were affected in having to accommodate them, St Mary's, that I was attending, was not.

The first actual wartime incident that I saw was a Hurricane that had crashed into the same sandpit where the sandbags had been filled. We were out to play at the time and after hearing a dull explosion, saw smoke rising from the direction of the hills. I am not sure how we got to know about it, but it was all around the school by dinnertime that a plane had crashed by Radnor park. I rushed over there at 12 o'clock along with other children to find out what had happened. We weren't allowed near the crash but could see what was left of the plane, smouldering in the distance. It appears that the pilot bravely stayed with his aircraft to avoid the school and other buildings. It is also said that the crash was a result of a bet in the mess that a certain aircraft could out-manoeuvre another in combat.

The reality of war was brought nearer to me when France and the low countries started to be overrun. The sound of explosions could be heard and smoke could be seen rising across the channel. I went to the east cliff and saw ships of all sizes, some against the harbour wall, some at anchor further out, smaller ones in the inner harbour. I could see the troops coming ashore and being put onto trains. There were also some civilian refugees, but they tended to arrive in boats the size of our local fishing boats. I ran home to tell my mum what I had seen, she told me that we would probably see the trains from the railway bank at the back of Peters Street. When I got there lots of my mates were already there, and when the trains stopped at a signal they were throwing rolls and buns to the soldiers who were asking for something to eat.

I dashed home for some money and went to the small baker's shop in St Johns street, called Mount's. When Mrs Mount realised what we were up to, she let us have them for nothing. The troops showed their appreciation by throwing out souvenirs to us lads, who had many a scrap to get the best ones. There were some trains that didn't stop, these had blacked out windows with big red crosses on the side. We realised afterwards that these were full of wounded.

Things were beginning to happen very quickly; first the London evacuees left, and shortly after it was our turn to become evacuees.

...Folkestone was beginning to prepare for the German invasion with concrete obstacles appearing everywhere. The biggest thing to my mind that happened was the digging of the anti-tank trap along the top of the hills surrounding the town. This is hardly ever mentioned in history books, but it was dug by hand and the spoil was just thrown down the hills. The scar is still there today and will be for many years to come, although the reasons for it being there will have been long forgotten .

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