During 1938 my parents moved to Norbury, a quiet tree lined London suburb and I attended the nearby boy鈥檚 school at Mitcham.
I was ten years old and just beginning to find my way around what appeared to be a confusing number of similar looking roads. The main road through Norbury was alive with bustling shops including the all important Cinema for children鈥檚 Saturday morning entertainment, Flash Gordon being my hero of the day. Gas masks were being issued and the first Barrage Balloons being raised over London.
During the early months of 1939 Anderson Shelters were being delivered to houses with suitable gardens and a lot of digging going on in the local parks. We didn鈥檛 know why at the time but it was in preparation for
Ack Ack Guns to be installed. All this activity must have prompted my parents to consider making yet another move, this time to a somewhat safer place than Norbury which presumably they felt was just a bit too near the big city.
One morning during that warm lazy summer of 1939 the removal van arrived and we were on the move again, this time to Seaford on the Sussex coast. Unfortunately the day we moved was definitely not a nice day from a weather point of view.
Lashing rain and howling winds made the last part of our journey into Seaford a bit hazardous as the coast road ran perilously near to the sea and giant waves were breaking over the road. Later we learned that 鈥渆very forth wave in was the big one. At that time I wished I was back in Norbury.
The Prime Minister, Mr Neville Chamberlain had made valiant attempts to keep Great Britain out of yet another conflict with Germany but sadly these were unsuccessful and we eventually entered into a state of war on 3rd September 1939.
On that fateful Sunday we all listened to him on the radio, speaking to the nation, his voice strangely soft and tinged with a hint of sadness telling us 鈥淭hat a state of war between the United Kingdom and Nazi Germany now exists鈥
We all wondered if the horrific tales and rumours which had abounded about the use of Poison Gas as a weapon would be upon us within minutes.
At about 1.30 p.m, a time when most people were eating their Sunday lunch, the Air Raid sirens sounded and we just knew this was not the practice warnings we had heard many times before but the real thing. People rushed into the streets wearing their Gas Masks, peering into the sky to see if any German bombers were approaching. Fortunately it was a false alarm and turned out to be a lone and unaccounted for British aeroplane that had been spotted approaching the English coastline. When identification had been secured the 鈥淎ll Clear鈥 sounded much to everyone鈥檚 great relief.
Everyone had been issued with a standard gas mask in its cardboard carrying box, special Mickey Mouse editions for younger children plus the frightening 鈥 lay in鈥 type for babies with it鈥檚 special hand pump. Heavy duty masks were issued to local Defence Personnel such as Special Constables, Air Raid Wardens, Auxiliary Firemen and Ambulance workers.
I attended the local Seaford Secondary Modern School and already concrete Air Raid Shelters had been constructed, half in half out of the ground on either side of the school playing field.
It was a mixed gender school but for the purpose of Air Raid Drill the boys were led to one side of the field and girls the other. I don鈥檛 actually remember ever having to perform in reality the practice of 鈥減roceed to the shelters in an orderly fashion, and don鈥檛 run鈥 as all the air raid warning sirens seemed to be at night.
We lived over our corner shop and there was enough garden space to build an underground shelter with room for five people to sleep. The walls and roof reinforced with all those bits of old iron one could lay hands on and I鈥檓 sure it would have withstood anything bar a direct hit.
Window blackouts were obligatory and woe betide anyone showing a chink of light when the ARP wardens carried out their checks . No street lamps, hand and bicycle torches dimmed with a layer of paper, car side lights, one on either side on the wheel arch were so dim it was impossible to see them and the main beam light restricted to a pathetic glow by slots cut in a metal disc covering the front glass.
The official evacuation was put into motion on the 1st September 1939 but took some time to get going. During July 1940 most of my friends from school were taken to Bedfordshire, I remember going to the railway station one morning to say cheerio with mixed feelings as half of me wanted to go with them on their adventure and the other half wanting to stay with my family.
In any event I was taken with my mother and sister to a little village in Somerset called
Huish Episcopi, were we stayed for some weeks.
I remember on the morning we were leaving for Somerset I pulled my beloved collection of Birds Eggs out from under my bed and being close to tears quietly and deliberately smashed each and every one of them thinking 鈥渘o bloody German was going to have my precious birds eggs鈥
My father found the drive down to Somerset extremely difficult as by then most of the signposts had been removed. This was done as a precautionary measure to prevent any enemy parachutists finding their way around easily. No doubt if there had been any Germans dropping out of the sky disguised as 鈥淣uns鈥 they would have been trained to politely ask the way to the nearest town !!
Petrol rationing started on the 22nd September 1939 just a few weeks after Mr Chamberlain鈥檚 declaration of war. All car owners were issued with books of petrol coupons the amount being determined by the HP of your car. It didn鈥檛 allow much for pleasure trips and was just enough to do get to the nearest town and back. Essential business users were issued with extra coupons which led to a flourishing 鈥渂lack market鈥
Food rationing began during 1940 and by 1941 most essential food was on ration. Meat, Bacon, Butter & Margarine, Sugar, Tea, Cheese, an Egg if you were lucky, semi luxury items being available on a points system.
Clothes also came under the rationing scheme in June 1941 but as a young lad of 13 probably didn鈥檛 bother me that much.
During the summer of 1940 we watched the thrilling dog fights high in the sky above between Spitfires and Hurricanes versus the Luftwaffe鈥檚 Messerschmitt 109鈥檚 until in September we heard the Battle of Britain had been won.
The incentive to become one of the 鈥淏oys in Blue鈥 was uppermost in our minds when, along with many of my school friends, I joined the local Air Training Corp. Our squadron, the 1218, had weekly evening parades at my school and I really enjoyed drilling and taking part in parades marching through the town during Wings for Victory Week etc.
We learned Morse Code and when reasonably proficient tried to decipher some of those de da dit, dit da de da鈥檚 that were abundant on short wave radio. Basic navigation was more difficult, I remember to my amazement finding out that to fly a plane from 6 o鈥檆lock (on a clock face) to 12 taking into consideration an easterly wind factor one had to aim for 1 o鈥檆lock to arrive over the target.
The Blitz started during September 1940 with air raid sirens wailing most nights as the bombers flew high above us, making their, mostly uninterrupted, way to London.
This being their prime target.
We were soon able to identify the particular drone of the German bombers. Sometimes a searchlight crew was lucky enough to catch a bomber high in the night sky and within seconds another and another beam had joined in until the hapless plane was trapped in three or more beams of light. Sometimes a bomber was passed from one Seachlight unit to another until it was forced to reduce height to make a bombing run and risk the Barrage Balloons and Ack Ack guns which encircled the city.
Sometimes a bomber had to abort its mission often jettisoning their bombs on route. The craters caused by these indiscriminate bombs that fell harmlessly in fields led us boys to hunt for the prized pieces of shrapnel.
By May 1941 the London Blitz had subsided but for us living on the coast the worst was yet to come.
During the early months of 1941 when the Blitz on London was at its height we were forced to sleep, night after night, in our air raid shelter as the warning sirens wailed their chilling message.
During the late evening of October 9th the 鈥渦sual鈥 air raid warning siren sounded. By now we were beginning to accept that the nightly ritual of sleeping in our shelter was more the norm that going upstairs to bed. That night we collected our things and made our way down to our concrete bedroom which, fortunately, was dry and had electric light but very few other creature comforts.
That night would prove to be the nearest we would ever be to one of Hitler鈥檚 bombs.
We heard them coming 鈥︹︹. bombs have their own special sound.
They start with a faint whistle, gradually getting louder and louder then turning into an ear blasting shriek.
You sit there, shivers going through your body, thinking 鈥渉as this one got my name on it?鈥
Bydown, a nearby annex for the Downs School for Girls, and fortunately unoccupied at the time, was just a 100 yards from where we were sheltering and sustained a direct hit from one of 8 high explosive bombs dropped on Seaford that night.
At first light we realised just how close it had been. Bydown had disappeared, all that was left was a smoking pile of rubble, the roadside trees, stripped of their remaining autumn leaves, were festooned with remnants of shredded mattresses and bedclothes making them to look like grotesque Christmas trees.
Our house, apart from a few broken windows and a few damaged roof tiles had come through unscathed.
One of Seaford鈥檚 worst air raids was on Sunday the 25th October at 5.30 pm.
I was watching a film at the local cinema when raiders swept in low over the sea, they did this so radar was unable to detect them, and in consequence no warning siren given.
They dropped 5 high explosive bombs on the town killing 11 people and causing complete devastation and chaos.
In the cinema, after the deafening noise of the exploding bombs, there was much confusion with all the audience trying to get out as quickly as possible. I emerged with the crowd to find the streets littered with bricks and rubble, windows broken and gaping holes in roofs with tiles swept off as if by a giant hand. My usual route home was totally blocked by fallen masonry and broken trees but I ran as fast as I could around the devastated area, my head in a total whirl and absolutely shaking with panic as I wondered what I would find when I got home.
A few days after this episode at about lunchtime on November 5th another 鈥渉it and run鈥 raider claimed the lives of 5 people plus badly injuring Betty Hamper, a 15 year old office girl. 6 high explosive bombs had straddled the town, one falling on office premises on the corner of Pelham Road trapping Betty under huge piles of masonry until she could be rescued many hours later.
She survived the horrific experience but suffered severe damage to her legs.
Many of the local private schools had been commandeered by the military for billeting their troops and in Seaford mostly by the Canadian regiments.
They were a friendly lot and we local lads were quick to take advantage of their generosity. Sweets, not the kind we were used to but Hershey bars and Lifesavers were handed around. Cigarettes, for those local lads able to make themselves look old enough to smoke, were highly prized. Canadian cigarettes had the most unusual names and, if I remember correctly, pretty strong.
A few of the Canadian soldiers looked like real Red Indian鈥檚 and one could imagine them wielding a tomahawk and taking a few German scalps.
They had their share of heavy drinkers and often their military police were called upon to sort out a fight or two. In our little corner shop we sold bottles of Meths for lighting primus stoves but quickly removed it from sight when we learned that some soldiers were drinking it.
I remember being introduced to the Hamburger, a firm favourite with our Canadian friends. We quickly took to this delicious fried rissole made from pork sausage meat mixed with onions, placed in a bread bap and liberally laced with ketchup or relish.
The Canadian soldiers were eager to get to grips with the enemy and in 1942 had their first encounter in what was called the Dieppe raid. This was the first large scale attack on Hitler鈥檚 Fortress Europe and 5000 Canadian soldiers took part making up 85% of the total force, sadly only 1400 Canadian soldiers returned. 1000 were killed and the remainder were taken prisoner, all after a single day of fighting.
The first casualty of the American forces, Lieutenant Edwin Loustalot, died on this raid.
The raid was officially described as a 鈥渞econnaissance in force鈥 and was to test the German defences, but it was poorly conceived.
Lord Louis Mountbatten, who was in charge of the operation, put a bold face on it, but was thought by some that he should have accepted the blame for the fiasco. Instead he received another medal
Hanging from the picture rail in the dining room of my mother鈥檚 house was an inexpensive, well worn wrist watch, it stayed there until my mothers death 46 years later, my mother told me the watch had been handed to my father a few days before the raid as a token of friendship coupled with the jocular remark 鈥減ick it up when we鈥檙e back鈥 unfortunately that poor soldier didn鈥檛 return and eventually, when I was able to remove it from it鈥檚 memorial spot on the wall, I contacted the Canadian Ex servicemen鈥檚 Association with the owners name and number which was inscribed on the back of the watch. Sadly by then all attempts to trace any living relatives proved negative.
Entertainment for young people during the war years was practically non existent.
So we made our own. Ball games during the winter months Cricket in the summer and the new game of baseball introduced by our resident soldiers. To keep the soldiers fit a commando type obstacle course had been slung high up the trees around one of the private schools they had commandeered so when no one was about we had to try it ?
They were also very careless with ammunition, 303鈥檚 and cannon shells were often to be found lying around just waiting for us to collect. A favourite trick was to hack a hole into the side of a 303, shake out the cordite and make a homemade firework. Better still wedge one into a fence pole and give the percussion cap a whack with a hammer and nail.
Thunderflashes which had not exploded during military exercises somehow found there way into our possession and a magnesium flare was proudly carried to a safe place high onto Seaford Head and coaxed into life. It gave a mind boggling pyrotechnic display which we thought was great.
Prior to the D day landings life went on with boring things like school.
Occasionally a V1 flying bomb or doodlebug, as they were called, would fly in from the sea heading inland. You had a funny sense of relief in listening to its throaty roar knowing that if the engine cut out now some other poor sole would be at the receiving end.
One of the two which fell in our area was destroyed by a spitfire flown by Flying Officer George McKinley who sadly crashed after losing control of his aircraft, the other
flew into the cliffs at Newhaven, probably the result of a faulty gyroscope.
There was only one report of the latest secret German Weapon, the V2 Rocket falling in Sussex.
This was the silent killer, you didn鈥檛 hear it coming and it caused the most enormous crater. I was taken to see the big hole in a field caused by the one which fell near Polegate. You could have lost a couple of Southdown double decker busses in it.
On May 7th 1945 Germany surrendered and the following day we celebrated VE (victory in Europe) day Street parties were hastily organised and bonfires built, some actually in the streets.
In Seaford there had been
37 air attacks
140 high explosive bombs dropped plus 1000鈥檚 of incendiary bombs
23 people killed
16 suffering appalling injuries
84 slightly injured
28 houses and buildings completely destroyed
54 damaged beyond repair
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