大象传媒

Jean Lowrie told her story to Edwina Davies, WW2 volunteer

I was a teenager when war the broke out. I'll be eighty on September 16th this year, 2005. I Lived at Bankside, Cartmel.

The war changed everybody's lives. My elder brother George served through the war in REME and my other brother, Tom saw active service with the Pioneer Corps in France where almost everyone in his regiment was wiped out. He was one of the few survivors.

They were frightening times. I remember the bombing raids and particularly when they bombed Hampsfell. We all went down to the fields and sheltered under the trees. I suppose they were targeting the army camp and the airfield.

There were two camps. Both were down the Mile Road at Cark, on the East Plain. The Army camp was nearer the sea where the caravan park is now. The Air Force camp and the airfield were nearer the village. The airfield is still operational taking parachutists to carry out jumps.

Regular dances were held at both camps; one at the army camp one week, one at the air force camp the next. You had to have a pass to get in and they were very popular.

There were lots of different nationalities stationed at the bases, including Americans and Canadians. My friend and I started to go out with two Canadians. The one I went out with was called Bill Calcutt. Both of them were then posted overseas. I never heard any word from Bill and then my friend received news that her young man had been killed. Not hearing from him I thought Bill must have been killed too.

Then I met Joe. I was seventeen. I had been going out with him a few months when I got a letter from Bill. He had been wounded. He wanted to come and see me but I had to write back and tell him about Joe.

I met Joe at one of the dances. He was from Sunderland and had worked in the shipyards there. It was a reserved occupation so he did not have to join up but he did. In fact he first tried to enlist in the army but he was turned down because he was too young. So then he sought to join the RAF, he'd lied about his age and got in.

On that first meeting he was a little drunk and when he asked if he could see me home I said "No, I don't like drunkards." But then he landed up at the farm and I gave him a choice, "Drink or me" and after that I hardly ever knew him take a drink. Looking back I think it was because he had been through so much that he and others drank. He never talked much about what happened but his experiences left him with health problems and resulted in partial loss of hearing.

He was nineteen when we met, an in-flight engineer and air-gunner. He flew in Mosquitoes. He was sent overseas on active service and his plane was shot down and crashed somewhere near the Italian Yugoslavian border. My daughter, Anne, has his medals and other memorabilia including a silk handkerchief which is actually a map showing the border area and which he had with him on the mission.

He was fortunate that after being shot down he was helped by Yugoslavian partisans. They took him with them and they hid out in the mountains. All of the time that he was in hiding he had to keep moving. He used to tell us that they gave him a drink called slivovica which then we'd never heard of. His family got a telegram which said that he was missing, presumed dead. Anne has that also. But, he managed to stay alive often sleeping in what I assume were farm buildings, with the animals. He had to walk at night because it was not safe in daytime and keep moving. Eventually he reached the coast. As we recall it was the Italian coast and we think the Trieste area, if not Trieste and somehow he was lucky enough to get on a boat home. I don't know how he managed it. So then word arrived that he was safe. His mother got another telegram dated 10 October 1944, which said "Your son, Sergeant Joseph Lowrie is now reported safe and uninjured. Letter follows shortly".

When he'd been posted he'd been issued with brand new boots but when he came back, and he still had the boots when he came to Cark, they were worn away to the uppers.

He was later based in Shropshire.

We got married when I was twenty one. By that time he was a Warrant Officer, having risen through the ranks. He was still in the RAF when we married and wore his uniform for the ceremony.

Later, after the war, his sister Nancy, married my brother Tom and we all lived at Cartmel.

Thinking back it was very different then - two camps, RAF and Army, lots of different nationalities and there was never any trouble.

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