大象传媒

At the beginning of World War 2 in 1939 we were living on the island of Malta in the Mediterranean because my father, who was in the Royal Navy, was based there. He was on the aircraft carrier HMS 鈥淕lorious鈥� and my mother and I lived in a flat in the town of Sliema. I was 6 years old when it became apparent that war was inevitable and so all Navy families had to leave the island and return home to England. A passage was arranged on a small passenger ship for my Mum and myself from Malta to Marseille in the south of France. I remember very little about that trip but I do recall arriving at the docks in Marseille. We spent a day there before embarking on the big cruise liner that was to take us back to England. It seemed huge to me and I had a lovely time on board on the way back to Southampton.

On arrival in Southampton we went by train to Portsmouth where we had a small terraced house. War had not yet been declared but everybody was preparing for war. We had to queue up to get ration cards and be issued with and fitted with gas masks which, at the time, I thought was great fun. Eventually, soon after my 7th birthday, we heard on the radio that war had been declared and we started to take things a bit more seriously, all our windows had to have masking tape on them in case of bomb blast and lists were drawn up of children who were to be evacuated to the countryside because Portsmouth, being a big naval base, was sure to be a target for the German bombers. We had friends in Canada and so it was arranged for me to go over to stay with them until the war was over, but it appeared that German U Boats were torpedoing ships going across the Atlantic and indeed one ship full of children was sunk and many children lost their lives. So my mother said there was no way that she was going to let me go and we would stick it out in our house in Portsmouth.

At first there was no bombing but every body was issued with the materials to make air raid shelters in our garden. My father was away in the Navy and my mother couldn鈥檛 dig 8 foot down into the garden and erect a shelter on her own so, when the air raids started, we went off every night to a public shelter which was dark, smelly and uncomfortable. In the morning we trudged home, hoping that our house hadn鈥檛 been bombed. Eventually we had our own shelter built so when the air raid siren sounded we scuttled off down to the shelter. This was known as the 鈥淏litz鈥� from the German word blitzkrieg meaning 鈥渓ightning war鈥�. Mostly the bombers came at night but, as they got bolder, the German aircraft would come across in daylight but the schools had shelters too; we would continue our lessons there if we had to leave the classrooms because the air raid siren had started to wail. Of course the main target in Portsmouth was the dockyard and naval base but sometimes the bombers were put off by anti-aircraft fire and our fighter aircraft or their navigation wasn鈥檛 too good and they dropped their bombs anywhere. Sometimes if the air raid was in the early evening I would leave the shelter and go out to watch what was going on. As a small lad, I found it quite exciting: the night sky would be criss-crossed by searchlights, there would be tracer fire going up from the anti-aircraft guns near the docks and sometimes you could see an enemy aircraft caught in the searchlights; it was like Bonfire night. When we were lying in our bunks in the shelter we used to listen to the drone of the aircraft overhead and could distinguish between the harsh sound made by a German bomber and that made by a British fighter plane. We used to shout out 鈥淗ooray it鈥檚 one of ours!鈥� when we heard the tone of a Spitfire鈥檚 engines.

Life was very different for us during the war to what it is for our grandchildren today and even when their parents were children. We didn鈥檛 have TV, practically everything, particularly clothes and food, was rationed, and there were hardly any sweets or any fizzy drinks. My parents did not have a car but it would not have been much use to us if we had, because petrol was not allowed to be sold for private use. Nor did we have a telephone; when my father鈥檚 ship came in to Portsmouth and he wanted my mother to know that he would be able to get home he would phone the Corner Shop and they would pop round with the message when they could. Almost every thing was in short supply because any goods that came into the country had to come in by sea and the German U Boats tried to attack and sink any ships coming to England from overseas. For instance, because rubber came from the Far East anything made from rubber was precious so 鈥渨elly boots鈥� were almost impossible to come by. Once, the school was flooded because a bomb had hit a water main so we were told to wear waterproof boots to school. I didn鈥檛 have any so I wore my mother鈥檚; they were several sizes too big for me and had slightly high heels, I was really embarrassed. To buy swimming costumes we would have had to have used some of our precious clothing coupons, so my mother knitted me a pair of swimming trunks out of wool; they were alright when they were dry but, as soon as they got wet, they weighed a ton and really sagged 鈥� it was difficult keeping them on. We couldn鈥檛 go to the seaside to swim as, because of fear of German invasion, the beaches were covered in anti-tank traps and barbed wire so we had to go to the few swimming baths that were open. I was lucky, my father was in the Navy so I was allowed to use the Royal Navy indoor pool near the dockyard on a Sunday.

Somehow we lived through the air raids and harsh conditions of 1940 and then in 1941 Hitler turned his attentions to the invasion of Russia. The bombing of England reduced and life became a little easier. Also, the Americans entered the war and more goods came across the Atlantic. Our friends in Canada used to send us parcels, which for me was a great treat because they used to include Wrigley鈥檚 Juicy Fruit chewing gum that was impossible to buy in England. Also, they sent American comics with Superman and other strip cartoons in. I could swap one American comic for lots of British comics or things like conkers. Food was still rationed and it was very poor as much of the farm produce was sent to the armed forces. In order to make life a little more bearable I kept chickens for the eggs and bred rabbits, which we ate. I had some chinchilla rabbits and my mother made some very warm gloves from the fur. We also planted as many vegetables in our little garden as we could so that we could have fresh vegetables in season. There were no vegetables or fruit out of season or frozen food. We didn鈥檛 even have a fridge, let alone a freezer. I used to dream about bananas but I never saw one until my uncle鈥檚 aircraft carrier came home from the Far East in 1946 and he brought us some home.
For nearly three years, from 1941 to 1944, there was almost no bombing at all. Then in February 1944 we suffered what was known as the 'little Blitz'. This went on for a few days, but was nothing like as bad as the bombing of 1940-41. However, in June the Germans launched the first flying bombs - 'buzz-bombs' or 'doodle-bugs'. They were self-propelled, pilotless aircraft, which, when they ran out of fuel, would crash and explode. They were usually launched in daylight but, before we could see it, we could tell when one was coming our way by its sound, which was quite unlike any ordinary plane; it was a rough noise, more like a two-stroke motorcycle. If we heard the motor cut out when it was approaching, then it was likely to drop nearby and we dashed for shelter; if it continued its flight, we felt relieved and hoped that it would crash in open countryside, not on houses. Most were directed at London but quite a few came over Portsmouth and many of them fell in and around the city, causing damage and loss of life to civilians.

During the early part of 1944 the south of England was transformed by the build-up of British and American troops, preparing for the D-Day landings in Normandy. Every field, every narrow country lane was full of trucks, tanks and other armoured vehicles. We kids used to cycle out into the countryside to see them. The soldiers, especially the Americans, were very generous, giving us sweets, chewing gum and comics. But by 6th June, D-Day, they were all gone, the invasion of Europe and the start of the end of the war had begun. Unfortunately, in the landings many soldiers, sailors and airmen were killed or injured. My father鈥檚 ship had accompanied the landing craft on the invasion and on 7th June my mother received a phone call to say that my father had been wounded and was being taken to Queen Alexandra鈥檚 Hospital at Cosham on the outskirts of Portsmouth.
My mother and I went in to see my father in hospital and the ward was full of soldiers, some of them wounded really badly. Dad was covered in bandages because he had received wounds to his chest and arms when a German shell had hit his ship. Also, a piece of metal had cut the top of his head; had he not been wearing his helmet it would have killed him. After some months in hospital he made a fairly good recovery and was given a job ashore.
My aunt had a farm in Sussex and so in 1945 when the war in Europe ended, as a sort of a holiday, I went away to stay with her for a few weeks. It was very different from life in bomb-damaged Portsmouth, there was no real shortage of food and I really enjoyed helping out on the farm. Because most able-bodied men were away at the war, the work on many farms was done by Land Girls, but on Aunt Elizabeth鈥檚 farm she had a different sort of labour 鈥� prisoners-of-war. To start with these had been Italians because Italy had started off being on the side of the Germans but then joined our side. However, as the war came to an end they started allowing some German prisoners out of the camps to work. Aunt Elizabeth was keen on having them on her farm because they were better workers than most of the Italians, who she considered to be lazy. One German with whom I worked was Paul Becker; he was quite young, probably only 18 or19, he spoke quite good English and so I spent some time with him. All through the war we had considered all Germans to be ogres, after all they had bombed us civilians, but I found Paul to be just an ordinary young man, like our own soldiers. He had been conscripted into the Army from school and had no real idea of politics; he hadn鈥檛 been in the Army long before he was captured and sent to England. He told me all about his family, about the bombing of his city, Cologne, and I realised that the German civilians had been going through the same conditions as we had earlier in the war, probably worse. We became quite friendly so when he went back to Germany we continued to correspond and my mother sent him parcels with things like coffee that were hard to come by in post-war Germany, just like our Canadian friends who had sent us parcels!

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