大象传媒

This story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War site by Bill Ross of the 鈥楢ction Desk 鈥� Sheffield鈥� Team on behalf of Jack Morley and has been added to the site with his permission. Mr. Morley fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

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The stories were transcribed from audio recordings made and supplied by Jack. When some of the foreign place names that are mentioned could not be found very easily in an atlas, they have been typed as they sounded, as have some of the technical and coded terms with which I was not familiar, therefore, they will probably be misspelled. Part One seems to start 'midstream'. This is because there does not appear to be a beginning to the story. But the main body of the story is fascinating, in that it describes in graphic detail, the day to day activities of a bombing crew.

......... Bill Ross, 大象传媒 People鈥檚 War Story Editor.
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Other Parts to this story can be found at:

Part 2: A5041531

Part 3: A6023701

Part 4: A6039722

Part 5: A6081257

Part 6: A6081301

Part 7: A6126077

Part 8: A6126167

Part 9: A6138010

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鈥︹�︹�︹�︹��..We were issued with a Tommy Gun which we鈥檇 previously seen on gangster films, but immediately, we were told to gather round and Sergeant White took the gun to pieces and meticulously placed the parts in order, cleaned every part and put them back again. Then he picked us out one by one and said, 鈥淣ow it鈥檚 your turn,鈥� to each of us, and we each had to re-assemble the weapon. Each time we went anywhere, we had to do this sort of thing to get us ready for when we did have weapons.

Actually, having left the Messenger Boys, it was our duty as Home Guards, to go out whenever sirens were sounding. I remember one time when we went up Scot Road, near the De La Salle College, and in the searchlights, we saw a bomber and a fighter chasing it. I don鈥檛 know if it ever caught it or not though. Nevertheless, there was a couple of bombs dropped on Scot Road at the junction with Ellesmere Road.

Then we were called to a place where they thought there might be a bomb, and indeed there was a hole, burrowing beneath a house. We assumed it was a delayed action bomb, so we did what we used to do as messenger boys previously. We鈥檇 been issued with big yellow labels. We roped the area off, evacuated people, to Ellesmere Road School. Then we roped the bomb off and marked it for the army to collect. Upstairs at the school, which had been Beatrice鈥檚 old school, were dozens of palliases, all ready to be laid out on the floor, plus there were piles of blankets to be used.

By this time, I had changed my job and I was working at Gladwin鈥檚, a cutlery firm on Rockingham Street, but I was also working for another man who owned a casting shop where there were twelve crucible furnaces. The castings we did were partly for the cutlery industry, and partly for the war effort; copper bands and brass bands, parts for shells. It was a pretty hard time. I was only 16 at the time, and I was still courting. I was still seeing Beatrice once a week.

Anyway, back at Gladwin鈥檚; the furnaces were in the floor, covered with a slab of concrete and they jutted down below into the cellar. Now in the cellar, a vase came down, and you could take the bottoms off the vase and take the fire out, but, that鈥檚 only when necessary. Every morning when we got there, we used to put paper down in the furnace, and coke. We鈥檇 place a crucible pot into the middle of it, covering the top of the crucible with a cover plate on the end of a long iron, and coke all the way around the pot, then light the furnace. In turn, each furnace would get to the requisite heat. In the yard was a pile of whatever we were going to cast. If it was copper, that was in the foreman鈥檚 office; if it was nickel, it was in the yard.

We were working on the afternoon shift one day, in December 1940, nearing the end of the shift, we heard the sirens. That meant that we could pack up and leave everything, or, as big Albert, the foreman sez, 鈥淲e鈥檒l stay until everything happens here, we鈥檒l teem the metal and we鈥檒l wait for it cooling down, and in the meantime, you can go down into the cellar, pull the vase and drop the fires, and then we鈥檒l get off home when we鈥檝e made everything safe. He said, 鈥淏ecause if we leave the metal in the bowls, it鈥檒l be spoilt."

We鈥檇 just done the teaming, when there was a huge explosion, a crash and a shower of dust; the roof had lifted and fallen back into place. That seemed to be a good enough reason to stop work for us, but the foreman said, 鈥淥h no, you鈥檝e done all the hard work, just hang about and wait until the ingots are ready for taking out of the vault, set the ingots and then we鈥檒l go home, which we did. At this time, the blitz had been going on about two hours, there were bombs all around us. Gladwin Brothers on Rockingham Street was very near to The Moor and at the bottom was the Central Picture Palace.

Anyway, a lad called Walter lived on the Arbourthorne somewhere. We decided to do a detour away from the middle of town, so we turned up Rockingham Street, but to our horror, there was a fire engine ablaze, right across the road, so we turned back down the road. Just as we got to Button Lane, to head for The Moor, the central Picture Palace went up in flames, so we turned up Button Lane which was our only exit although buildings were burning on both sides, but the lane seemed clear. We ran on and reached Moorhead, then we stopped. Walt said, 鈥淥h look, parachutes.鈥� We thought they were parachutes coming down. A policeman said, 鈥淩un you fools, they鈥檙e landmines.鈥� He put us wise. Just above Moorhead there was a little alleyway that went through to Norfolk Street so we went that way and we were in front of the policeman by the time he got on to Norfolk Street. When he reached where we were sheltering, beneath another fire engine, which had not been burnt, but had stopped by the corner of the Empire, the policeman said, How did you get here?鈥� We said, 鈥淲e can run faster than you and besides, we know a short cut."

From there, we headed down Norfolk Street past the old Tivoli which had all the front blown off. The Tivoli was where they eventually put the Peace Gardens. We crossed Surrey Street and turned on towards Fargate, but things were looking desperate by this time, so we went down to the next street and into High Street where we came out just above Walsh鈥檚. There was no sign of bombing there, but down at the bottom, the Marples Hotel had been hit and poor old Walt had to go past there. He said, 鈥淪o long Jack, I鈥檓 going down here, I鈥檝e got to get back home.鈥� My way however was via The Wicker, so I turned down Angel Street where Cockaynes was blazing fiercely, and although it may not have been an aeroplane, it looked like the shape of an aeroplane burning.

There in the middle of the road was a pair of gauntlet gloves, clutching a hosepipe. There was no body attached to the gloves. What a sight; I made my way down by the B&C stores, turned into Water Lane and when I got to the bottom, there were fires all over and the bombs were still falling.

As I crossed Lady鈥檚 Bridge, a chap said to me, 鈥淓yup kid, giz a hand wi鈥� this.鈥� It was a small bomb, too heavy for him to lift, but both of us managed to lift it and sling it over into the river. Then he disappeared and I continued down The Wicker. Half way down, there was debris and glass, fires all over, and the bottom half of a tramcar, a burnt out tram leaning against what had been Bentley Brothers鈥� showroom, and the top half leaned against the wall. The people in it must all have been dead.

Anyway, I continued towards the Wicker Arches. A policeman stopped me and said, 鈥淚鈥檓 sorry son, you can鈥檛 go any further.鈥� He said, 鈥淭here鈥檚 nothing at the other side.鈥� I said, 鈥淲ell, I live at the other side.鈥� At that instant, the 鈥榓ll clear鈥� sounded. So I dashed into the shelter and there were people with their mouths wide open, they were dead. I ran through as fast as I could, out through to the other side into Spital Hill and there was deathly silence. All the shops鈥� windows were out and there was no sign of life at the stables. Then I turned up Brammer Street where there was still no sign of life and I felt some trepidation as I turned up the entry at the side of our house, but I heard the voice of my mother, 鈥淭hank God, he鈥檚 here.鈥�. My family had sheltered in the old bottle store which was as safe as anywhere.

Anyway, the next morning, being in the Home Guard, I knew I couldn鈥檛 go to work because of the damage done there. Someone said there was a fire engine down at the bottom of Champs Hill, so I went to have a look. The fire engine had burnt out, there had been a delayed action bomb. I thought, 鈥淚鈥檇 better report to the vestry hall." Down Brunswick Road, it was almost ankle deep in glass and debris, but this was the spirit of the time. Everyone was outside cleaning the pavements to make room in case the water carrier came around to provide fresh water. It was a wonderful sight to see everyone so cheerful. One woman shouted, 鈥淭hey鈥檒l never ger-rus down.鈥�

I went down to the vestry hall and reported. My first duty was to go round the corner to Simmerson鈥檚 yard because he鈥檇 reported that there was a delayed action bomb in their yard. Simmerson鈥檚 was the local bakery. Two of us went together; we went into Simmerson鈥檚 yard, and sure enough, the people were still working, so we told them all to get out of the other door as quickly as possible, then we roped the entrance to Grimesthorpe Road off, so that the people wouldn鈥檛 go out into the yard in case the bomb went off. Just as we went farther up Grimesthorpe Road, a Fella said, 鈥淐an yer come and help me down here?鈥� This was at the bottom of Clun Road, at what used to be Growcot鈥檚 coach firm. That was completely missing, it had been blown away. There was a safe, wide open with money and jewellery laying about. This fella was one of Growcot鈥檚 bosses; so we helped him empty the safe and clear up all that we could, round about, and he climbed into his car and drove off. He offered not even a 鈥榯hank you鈥�.

From there, we carried on to where people had told us there might be a bomb. If we thought there was a bomb, we roped it off whether there was a bomb or not. Some people needed assistance in their homes, so we helped them. This became our regular routine, we couldn鈥檛 work and we couldn鈥檛 find the boss when we wanted wages, so for a period of a week or so, we鈥檇 no wages, and we were detailed, three of us, to do what we could to help people during the day, get what we could at home, if our own homes were alright, and then go to Ellesmere Road School to look after the evacuees. Here, once again, I met Beattie. I鈥檇 seen her almost every week before. We used to meet her and her two sisters in a little room at the end, that was our room where we were based to look after people. We stayed there night after night, had music playing and we got to know one another. Beattie鈥檚 mother was always washing up, she was always telling us how we ought to be clean. Her father would play the banjo, so did her brother, and someone would play the organ. We had sing songs every night.

Beattie鈥檚 older sister said to me, 鈥淲ould you like to go out with me?鈥� I said, 鈥淗ow old are you?鈥� She said, 鈥淚鈥檓 er, twenty one.鈥� I said, 鈥淥h no, you鈥檙e far too old for me.鈥� Now, whenever I meet her, I kid her with the same story; which was true anyway. One night though, I took Beatrice out for a drink and we decided that from now on, we鈥檇 begin courting regularly, and I used to see her every night. I saw her whenever I went up there; when I wasn鈥檛 up there, she would follow me around and we鈥檇 go to the pictures together, we鈥檇 go with her mother and father. Of course, that was a laugh, going with Beattie鈥檚 mum and dad. They鈥檇 say, 鈥淲e鈥檒l go to the Coliseum tonight.鈥� Yes, we鈥檇 go to the Coliseum alright, me and Beattie would go, but the picture was nearly over when they turned up. I was really courting now, I used to go to her house nearly every night. Once we got away from the evacuation centre, every night at their house on Grimesthorpe Road, we were on with the pianer, organ, banjos, everything, because the people belonging to the Ivy Black Harmonics, a troop which entertain people, in hospitals etc., all unemployed, used to practise at Beattie鈥檚 home. Also, the beat policeman used to come round and pop his head in, have a cup of tea and listen to the music. It was so wonderful, although they only had an oil lamp for light, and a coal fire. There were no gas stoves or anything. I would have Beattie sitting on my knee, we鈥檇 get covered up with a coat and we got shouted at for doing that, but anyway, she was my Beattie and she was lovely; she鈥檚 still lovely although she鈥檚 gone.

By January the 4th, I鈥檇 had enough of things the way they were, so I went up town to Central Chambers and I decided to join up. I didn鈥檛 tell anybody; I couldn鈥檛 have worked now because the firm had been closed down for a period, so I went into Central Chambers and told them I鈥檇 been a messenger boy, and that I was in the Home Guard. The sergeant there said, 鈥淩ight, get stripped off.鈥� They gave me a medical and said, 鈥淵ou鈥檝e passed, A1, so now all you need to do, you鈥檙e only seventeen years old aren鈥檛 ya?鈥� I said, 鈥淵es.鈥� He said, 鈥淩ight, you get yer mother or yer father to sign this form.鈥� He gave me a form to say that 鈥溾�︹��..they鈥檙e willing for you to go into the forces, otherwise we can鈥檛 accept yer.鈥�

Well, I was a bit wary now because I knew Mother wouldn鈥檛 sign it, so I went down to Queen鈥檚 Road Goods Depot where Dad now worked, and I told him what I鈥檇 come for. He鈥檚 telling everyone, 鈥淢y lad鈥檚 joining up.鈥� He signed the form for me; he sez, 鈥淚 don鈥檛 know whether yer鈥檒l get yer mam to sign it or not.鈥� I sez, 鈥淥h, she will, she will.鈥� Anyway, I left Queen鈥檚 Road and I stopped off to sign a signature as close as possible to me mam鈥檚 and I went back to Central Chambers and I said, 鈥淗ere yer are sir, er, Sergeant.鈥� I said, 鈥淚鈥檝e had 鈥榚m signed.鈥� He looked at me and I think he was a bit suspicious, he said, 鈥淩ighto, sit down a minute.鈥� I sat down and he came back a minute or two later and he said, 鈥淵ou鈥檒l catch the 9.30 train tomorrow morning, to Bedford, and there, you鈥檒l find a fleet of vans waiting for yer, there鈥檚 quite a number of yer going and they will take yer to Cardington.鈥� I knew about Cardington, this was the place where the R101 went from when it had the disaster and crashed. But this was an RAF station where they held the aircrew selection board.

Continued in Part Two which is at: A5041531.

Pr-BR .

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