大象传媒

For my family, the 2nd World War started in August 1939: we were at the Sunnyvale Holiday Camp in Rhyl, North Wales when over the Tannoy system was broadcast the numbers of the reservists required to report for duty. Uniformed Army Officers were in evidence inspecting the facilities, the camp eventually being taken over as a base for training army personnel. Families left the camp, holidays brought to an end, and a sombre atmosphere pervaded amongst the grown ups. As a twelve year old it was not until we returned to our home in Bamford, Nr. Sheffield did the seriousness of the situation become a reality to me.

The whole family volunteered for duty, Dad became an ARP Warden, Mum active in the WRVS and Comforts Fund, my twin sister was a Guide and myself a Boy Scout; we all wanted to be involved with whatever the community in the village could do for the war effort.

My first experience was as a casualty for an ARP exercise, and as a messenger for the local ARP personnel when two of us, occasionally overnight, manned the telephone at the HQ next to the Derwent Hotel.

The Scout Commissioner for the district was also the chief ARP Warden, and on one hot summer day sent me to investigate a white tent she had spotted up on Ashopton Edge. Having got within a clear sight of the offending 鈥渢ent 鈥渋t turned out to be a pile of lime deposited ready to be spread on the land.

Scouts undertook the collection of aluminium and scrap metal, and finding a pram chassis complete with wheels, resulted in the making of a six wheeled trolley. My cousin and I used the trolley to gather to a central point bones deposited in bins round the village, for collection, eventually to be made into adhesive used in the fabrication of the wooden Mosquito planes.

Scouting continued in the villages and some camping was permitted, but only within two or three miles of home base provided tents were camouflaged and fires carefully managed, though food rationing made catering over a campfire challenging.

Bamford received a group of young evacuees from Shoeburyness and scouts attended their arrival at the village school, assisting in the allocation to their new families; several evacuees became members of the Bamford Scout Troop, enjoying the freedom of the countryside and learning new skills.

Scouts were on hand during many of the wartime activities to raise money, and helped in packing parcels of comforts to be sent to the troops and POW鈥檚. One task was the chopping and selling supplies of firewood from old railway sleepers. We were encouraged to wear scout uniforms as often as possible so as to become recognised as one who would help on any occasion.

Myself, and many of the older scouts, also belonged to the ATC and were privileged to have lessons in gliding at Great Hucklow, the home of the Derbyshire Gliding Club; one member became a glider pilot in the Parachute Regiment.

The local ATC Squadron spent up to ten days a year at operational aerodromes, Finningley and Binbrook being ones I remember; flights in bombers such as the Wellington, Lancaster, and Whitley were arranged. One experience at Finningley was to be taken up in a Tiger Moth by a Polish pilot who was undergoing rehabilitation training and delighted in aerobatics; myself being of small stature and unable to see the ground over the edge of the cockpit, he obligingly flew upside down so that I could get a view of Lincoln Cathedral.

Outside the scouting activities I attended The New Mills County Secondary School, making a twice daily twenty mile cycle and train journey, until it became necessary to lay on buses to bring Hope Valley pupils home at a reasonable hour. Trips down the hairpin bends on Mam Tor were an experience to remember, particularly on one occasion having to negotiate passing a broken down Earl鈥檚 Cement lorry that had stalled on the way up. At one period, the school was shared with I believe Manchester Grammar School whilst bomb damage was repaired, and attendance became Monday, Wednesday Friday one week, and Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday morning the next.

The train journey to school in carriages also occupied by tired soldiers rescued from Dunkirk was perhaps the nearest I came to being involved in the actual war, but many of the events in the village of Bamford were, for a teenager, just as important and relevant to the winning of the 2nd.World War.

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