View Full Version : WW2 Memories
Did you know that pensioners were actually recalled in 1938, at the time of the Munich crisis? They were given a uniform allowance and sent home but told to hold themselves in readiness to report to their base IMMEDIATELY should war be declared.
We lived near Whale Island (Dad was a CPO in gunnery) so he actually reported on Monday 4th September, 1939. I think he was probably the first back and no-one knew what to do with him; later in the week they made him Chief of the Footbridge (!) to release the existing holder of the post for sea service!
"Chief of the Footbridge"
Sounds like a cushy number to me. I was never so lucky!!!!!!
Ah, but that was only the beginning and the first few weeks; then there was a draft of about a dozen gunnery chiefs to RN barracks, where they were told they were to be 'translated' on loan to the army as Regimental Sergeant Majors, to take teams of army 'gunners' with mobile guns around the east coast, different site each night, to delude the aircraft pilots into thinking there was a lot of 'interference' - not very successful, they got spotted most nights. One night Dad got blown over a churchyard wall and landed on a tombstone, as he was only severely bruised and not injured, they were instructed to carry on.
After a prolonged period with little sleep and poor food, Dad took his team to Shotley (!), found some mates and wangled himself and his lads a good night's sleep and a decent breakfast.
Eventually, the army found their own staff and the chiefs were drafted back to barracks. I don't know what happened to the others but my Dad was drafted to Ganges to instruct some new recruits from Newfoundland- could turn a boat around on a sixpence but marching? drill? gunnery???
Today, some of the things that were done at the beginning of the war seems so amusing, almost "Dads Army". Until we forget that these were desparate times and Britain was fighting for her life. It must have been awful, knowing that the Germans were just over a small stretch of water and ready to drag Britain into a darkness that we had not experienced since 1066. My admiration goes out to all the people of Britain at that time. Not just those that were fighting on Land, Sea and Air. But the people who were at home ready for that terrible day to come, which thankfully never came, and would lay down their lives to protect our great Country. No Politician will ever take away the pride that I have for being British
Thanks; I appreciate that
I am of an age to remember the broadcast announcing at war with Germany. I remember too, coming back from a seaside holiday to find sheets of corrugated iron, lengths of angle iron and a big bag of nuts and bolts in the front garden, the Anderson air raid shelter.
I'm that age also, Keith. On Sunday Sept 3rd our family was returning from a holiday in West Runton, Suffolk ? by Austin7. We stopped just outside Rayleigh, Essex where we lived, to watch soldiers erecting a tent city. My father had served in WW1 and expected to be called up again but because of his age, managed only the Home Guard. Seems like yesterday. Rob T
On 31st August 1939 my brother reported to Rosyth as a Fleet Air Arm Artificer Apprentice Electrical (LX773301!) My parents were not greatly in favour but my father believed in letting youngsters 'follow their star'.
On Sunday 3rd September I was excused church (my brother not being there to take me, me being 8) so I was in the garden, picking mint for sauce for the roast lamb. I came in when I heard my father switch the radio on, and we all three stood around the set in the living room and listened to the announcement. My mother sat down and asked my father about my brother; he thought brother would be ok in Scotland, but added that he himself would have to report to Whale Island in the morning.
I was told to get on and lay the table, which I did, and promptly put my foot in it by saying "Oh, I don't need to lay for Albie ((my brother)), do I?" At which point my mother sat down and wept and my father went out into the kitchen to blow his nose.............. It was our first Sunday without him; he was in FAA right through the war - Rosyth, Lympne, Newcastle under Lyme, ec. Long time ago.
Ednamay
Today is 31st August; tomorrow brings us September and its various anniversaries but one in particular I should like to draw to your attention.
THE DAY WAR BROKE OUT...
“The day war broke out, my wife said to me..” was the introduction to his act by a popular comedian, Rob Wilton - everyone smiled, or laughed, but it was often a wry smile.
Seventy years ago.
In Portsmouth, SUNDAY 3RD SEPTEMBER 1939 was a beautiful mild sunny day; I had been sent into the garden to get some mint for my father to chop, making mint sauce for the lamb my mother was roasting.
When I came in, both my parents were sitting in the living room, unheard of while there were jobs in hand, and listening to the wireless. My father signalled to me to sit down and be quiet and I heard the momentous announcement.
My mother began to weep and said “My poor boy!” My 15.10 year old brother had travelled to Rosyth, HMS Caledonia, as a Fleet Air Arm Electrical Artificer Apprentice only a few weeks before. My father reassured her that he would not be involved in any bombing ‘up there’, (famous last words!)
To distract her, my father asked if his own gear was ready; he had been on ‘immediate report’ recall notice (i.e don’t wait for the telegram) since the crisis in 1938. They decided they would spend the afternoon going through everything, my mother was not pleased with the way his shirts had become creased in the drawer (she woud iron them) and his ties ‘needed freshening up’.
The siren sounded, to familiarise us with the sound in future, followed by the ‘All Clear’. We would get to know it well. It certainly helped to spoil our Sunday roast and veg., but our appetites were already very poor, and I had to be reminded that it was my job to lay the table.
My father said he would report to Whale Island / HMS Excellent (two streets away, in Stanley Road) in the morning; they would have no use for him until then.
When he did report, he was put in charge of the footbridge security; the staffing was increased and everyone crossing the bridge had to be signed in or out at the island end of the bridge, where there stood a small guardhouse. I used to watch from a distance, outside the outfitters (Jack Blair, I believe), on the corner of Stanley Road.
We lived in a corner house at a T junction and within our two streets lived six other naval pensioners; they all went to RN Barracks in Queen Street for their medical and were then sent home, beds were required for all the people coming in from ‘up country’. None of them were gunnery staff, so they were not based at HMS Excellent.
Two pensioners were found unfit, two were in ‘reserved occupations’, and two, later on, were sent on draft to shore bases.
My father was at Whaley for a while, until the Navy was asked to transfer gunnery people to the army, to lead teams with mobile guns along the east coast to track and shoot down enemy aircraft. Suddenly he was no longer a Chief Petty Officer but a Regimental Sergeant Major.
It was a strange war in many ways.
Seventy years ago; sometimes it seems like yesterday, the memories are so vivid.
Francis Stanley
01-09-2009, 10:42
Endemay
Thank you for the interesting personal view on such a momentous occaision
Sept 7th or Sept 9th is listed as the start of the London Blitz depending on which reference you use. That day saw the first attempt by Germany to raid London in full daylight and I can remember it as if were yesterday. We were living at Thorpe Bay to the east of Southend on the Thames Estuary and the planes came over us from Shoeburyness, so many that the sky was full of them. You could see the Spitfires and Hurricanes weaving in and out of the bombers formation and puffs of smoke from the anti-aircraft guns, but all with little effect on the bombers. No attempt was made to drop bombs on Southend and although the air-raid sirens had gone, we went out onto the road to count how many bombers there were and collect any schrapnel. Both sides of the Thames Estuary coastline and all the South Coast were designated 'Invasion Zones' and most civilians had been moved away. My grandparents whom we lived with then, refused to leave their house and in a street of about 200 houses, only 12 or so were occupied by their owners. The rest were commandeered by the Army and the South Wales Borders Regiment billeted in them. My father, a WW1 veteran, too old to enlist, worked at the Bank of England in the City of London, and the Bank had been split into various sections and moved to locations, usually big country houses, around the country. He had ended up at Whitchurch, Hants until about 1943 when the Bank moved back to the City. The mind boggles at the thought of the logistics required to move such an institution by sections to different locations.
Thats me for today, standby for my next communique. Rob T
Guz rating
09-09-2009, 21:11
That's a nice story Rob, London did get a terrible pasting. I was a bit young to remember. I was born two days before war was declared. But I remember the ruins as I grew older. And I still live in this wonderful city.
Alan.
astraltrader
09-09-2009, 22:25
I have put all the above posts formerly in two different threads into this one new thread to commemorate the recent 70th anniversary of the outbreak of WW2.
Lost the thread somewhere!
Yes, good idea to merge the threads.
Ednamay
Let's have a bit more!
Rumour had it that German maps of Portsmouth showed Sydenhams Timber Yard sheds as submarine pens, which might have accounted for the number of bombs in the mud between Sydenhams and Whale Island - unfortunately, a few actually landed in the Yard and broke all our windows with the blast, lucky for you gunners that few reached Whaley!
Edna
And what about the families, 'doing their bit'?
Our school in Portsmouth had regular deliveries of wools/knitting yarns, to knit up for servicemen. My mother was a keen knitter so my friends joined me at home in the evenings and we did our 'knit for victory' while listening to the wireless. We had navy blue wool, of course, but also grey and dark red, also white oiled wool like the Irish Baineen, which was new to us. We knitted sleeveless sweaters (because the wool must not show at the cuff!!!), balaclava helmets, fingerless mittens (for the gunners!), heavy navy blue Guernseys for submariners and also white seaboot stockings which seemed to go on for ever. Some of the older girls enclosed notes for the recipients of all these garments but, so far as I know, no-one ever received a reply - now, did the powers-that--be intercept these 'invitations'??!!
Ednamay
astraltrader
10-09-2009, 15:33
Thanks for pointing out my error with the number of years Edna!
I have ammended my ways - as well as the number of years from the outbreak of WW2!!:o
Kevin123
10-09-2009, 16:22
A few years ago I was helping to sale my uncles house in Fratton, the surveyor found he had damage to his chimney and drains which were caused by a war time bomb. We were given a print out of a map which marked all the bombs which hit Portsmouth during WW2, one bomb hit the house behind his and the after shock caused the damage. I've got the print out in my attic I'll get it tomorrow and post it. Kevin.
astraltrader
10-09-2009, 17:03
Interesting Kevin...
A few years ago I bought a copy of the excellent book "The Exeter Blitz" which in great detail provides an account of every bomb dropped and on where - along with all casualties.
Anyway whilst reading one of the appendices which dealt with various correspondence/letters written about the Blitz there was one particularly evocative account where a woman had written about a land-mine that had gone off nearby which had not surprisingly brought down all of the plaster ceilings in the upstairs bedrooms. Sadly one of them was occupied by the writers elderly mother who instantly died from a heart-attack when the ceiling collapsed over her.
Imagine my shock when I noticed that the address of the house was my own!!
When I purchased the house my surveyor pointed out a couple of cracks in the attic dividing brickwork which he put down to settlement probably caused by bomb damage in 1942. Apparently many of the old Victorian terraced houses in the area suffered from the same thing...
Kevin123
10-09-2009, 17:17
Terry, we were told it's still possible to claim money, from either the government or council, I can't remember which now, for war damage caused by WW2 bombs. We never because we sold the house to a builder. The damage to the chimney went upwards which is how they knew. When he bought the house in 1959 the surveyors missed the damage completely. We sold the house in 2005. Kevin.
Kevin123
10-09-2009, 18:00
My dad lived near Highland road cemetery in Southsea during the war, and one evening some bombs hit the graveyard, blowing some of the corpses out of their graves. The next day everyone went to have a good look. They can still remember seeing parts of skeletons laying around. Kevin.
astraltrader
10-09-2009, 18:41
Thanks for that information Kevin. It is worth bearing in mind.
doug.birch
11-09-2009, 01:53
I remember well the announcement of the outbreak of the war, I was in the air cadets at that time & our flight was engaged in filling sand-bags at the Lewisham Hospital,the air-raid siren sounded,it was of course a false alarm.
We were to suffer later on, when the Blitz started, I working at Siemens Bros.which backed on to the Thames, we were working on Radar parts & when the siren sounded off, we told the foreman that we would work on, he said no,we had hardly got out of the workshop, making our way to the shelter when all hell broke loose. Some time later, when the all clear was sounded & we left the shelter, there were hose pipes everywhere & firemen trying to cope with the fires along the Thames and in the main street there was a crater big enough to take a double decker bus. I got home, had my tea and went to bed in our Anderson shelter,for the raids went on all night.
That was to be norm for the weeks to come. not nice. Doug. Birch.
There were two really shocking events during the Portsmouth blitz; the first was a bomb on a Saturday afternoon on the cinema in Lake Road; it was a family programme so the cinema was full. There were no survivors. Somehow the aircraft had not been spotted so there was no warning.
The other one was a landmine in the Crasswell Street area, behind Lake Road and Commercial Road. It had been an area of tightly packed family houses and several streets were demolished.
Another night that shocked everyone was when the Guildhall was attacked with firebombs; the flares were so high they could be seen throughout the city, even though Portsea Island is nearly flat, and servicemen coming off trains at the Town Station nearby were recruited to assist the firemen. My father had been due home on the late train but we did not see him till 6 am following day, black with soot. Lucky he was not wearing number ones. My memory says 10th January 1941 but that is not necessarily reliable.
A date I can't place is when it was impossible to get through Commercial Road because the whole of the shopping area had been destroyed, all the clothes shops, shoe shops, chemists, photographers, Landport Drapery, C & A, Woolworths, Marks and Spencers, etc. Marks opened a temporary shop in North End, which then never closed, as did Woolworths, and North End became a shopping centre. North End became so busy they had to put a policeman on point duty at the junction, to let the buses out of the bus station.
Edna
Kevin123
11-09-2009, 18:52
Here's the map of the bombs which hit the Fratton area during the war. I'm afraid it's not very clear, It's only a photocopy. The two darker dots are the bombs which caused the damage to my uncles house just opposite. The lighter dots are all the other bombs which landed during the war. I'm afraid you'll have to use the magnifyer to see it properly. Kevin.
Kevin123
11-09-2009, 19:02
I've been looking at the history of Highland road cemetery, and apart from scores of admirals, generals and hundreds of servicemen being buried there, there's also eight VC holders. Kevin.
Your spot looks close to Penhale Road School, where my son went to infants and juniors, and also near St. Mary's Road near the railway, where my father lived in sheltered housing in his 80s
About an inch north of the word LANDPORT is Stanley Road and the bridge to Whale Island, where all those gunners .................... when they weren't going at the double up to Tipnor Butts to 'get the eye in'!
Edna
Kevin123
12-09-2009, 14:14
Edna, my uncles and aunt all went to Penhale school at that time, for some reason my dad went to the school near ST Marys church. The first house I bought was also in Penhale road near the Connaught arms. I'll have a word with my dad tonight and find out a bit more. Kevin.
What a great living history thread this is turning out to be....(well done all:)) it really brings it home as to what it must have been like to have lived through that time, in those areas.
I'm hoping that my Mum's service provider will get a move on (fix her connection up) and enable her to post on here soon, as I know she has some good stories of her experiences to share here too. (She was 12 when WW11 was announced.)
Looking forward to reading more....
Regards,
Bee
doug.birch
13-09-2009, 14:51
As the war intensified, with air-raids almost every day & night, it was beholding of us in reservered occupations to join one of the various emergency organisations, such as the air-raid wardens, fire watchers or the Home Guard. I joined the Home Guard for the following 12 months until I joined the R.N. at Chatham in 1941.The Home Guard was ridiculed by some people ( hence the use of the term Dads Army ),but let me tellyou that we were well trained by a recently retired Sergeant Major and I was proud to serve. We wore the cap badge of the Royal West Kent Regiment and were attached to Siemens Bros, our task was to guard against saboteurs and to plot any mines that were dropped by aircraft in the Thames. I became the No.
1 machine gunner and managed to master the art of stripping & re-asembling our Vickers machine gun blind folded, when along came Dunkerque & the army took our weapons back to re-arm the troops. later they were replaced with Browning automatics. When our duty night fell on a Sunday, my friends and I went to the country for the weekend for a break, then go back to London for guard duty. on one occation we got back to Charing Cross to find allthe treansport was down due to heavy raids, so we had to walk allthe back to Charlton, hiding in doorways to dodge the shrapnal fron the guns, so I joined the Navyto get some rest. Doug. Birch
Batstiger
13-09-2009, 15:13
My father, having served in the Royal Naval Transport in WW.1 as a wireless operator was also in Dads Army throughout the WW.11.
Here he is with our Bull terrier on his lap and sat by him his latest recruit "ME".
Good picture, Bob. Now I know the real reason why Adolf changed his mind about the Invasion of England!!
Kevin123
13-09-2009, 21:20
These belonged to my great uncle John Birch. He served in the RM for 20 years but was unfit to serve in WW2, so he was a fire watcher untill he died in 1944. In the photo he's top left wearing his WW1 medals. Kevin.
Sept 13th 1940, Bombs hit 'Buck House', not known by accident or design, which allows the then Queen Elizabeth to say she can now look the "Eastenders' in the eye as she and they have been bombed out. Some years ago I read that the Royal Family never slept in 'Buck House' until the air-raids stopped but were driven to Windsor Castle every night. The 2 princesses stayed at Windsor during the day also. Rob T
Guz rating
14-09-2009, 17:09
Sept 13th 1940, Bombs hit 'Buck House', not known by accident or design, which allows the then Queen Elizabeth to say she can now look the "Eastenders' in the eye as she and they have been bombed out. Some years ago I read that the Royal Family never slept in 'Buck House' until the air-raids stopped but were driven to Windsor Castle every night. The 2 princesses stayed at Windsor during the day also. Rob T
Spot on Rob,
I remember my Grand Aunt saying that very thing when I used to visit her. She lived in Putney right through the London bombing. She stopped going down the
bomb shelters because of the robberies. She said the worst times was the blitz, and the V2's. I was to young to remember either.
Alan.
astraltrader
14-09-2009, 21:40
Absolutely right with this.
The blitz on London sadly also represented a high spot for all sorts of major crime including Murder, rape, and all forms of robbery. As well as major crime levels reaching this high peak during the blitz, it also continued at a rate far above normal levels for the rest of the war in nearly all major towns and cities of Britain.
Who remembers the "Blackout"? All windows had to blacked out with heavy black material so not a chink of light showed , otherwise the German planes could target your house with their bombs ( so we were indoctrinated). The local air-raid warden would patrol his area and bang on the front door if light showed through. Also households were invited to put paper tape across their window glass diagonally to reduce the amount of splintering from bomb blast.
At the start of the war, petrol was not rationed so plenty of cars were used but no car lights could be switched on at night. The result was horrific carnage on the roads and rules were introduced to allow very limited lighting on vehicles.
On our local buses, the headlights were blue to illuminate about 10 yards ahead and all the interior lights were blue also. As kids we loved it as the colour of everyones skin changed and looked quite ghostly. Rob T
In the run-up to D Day Portsmouth Harbour was choc-o-bloc with small boats, requisitioned by the navy to assist with/monitor the larger vessels due to be used for troops and equipment (materiel?? is that the word?)
Anyway, there were so many boats on our foreshore it was almost possible to 'walk on water' from Stamshaw to Whaley - except that the foreshore was inaccessible because the army had barbed wire barriers everywhere.
The add to the confusion, the army had men camping under the open sheds of Sydenham's Timber Yard, but their barrier was not Sydenham's gate BUT halfway down the street entry, so the six end houses were INSIDE the barrier.
My mum used to go afternoon shopping with the neighbour at No. 3 (we were 19) and used to have a cup of tea with her on their return. I don't know what they did getting through the barrier, but I had a game when I got home from school and went over to get the key.
"Halt, who goes there?"
"Friend"
"Advance friend and be recognised"
"Halt, friend, give the password for the day"..........
this was where the fun really started, because the so.called 'password' was the name of a sweet or biscuit, e.g. McVities, Huntley & Palmer, Osborne, - - - -
We knew when the 'off' was due because the soldiers mostly disappeared, except those who had to clear up all that barbed wire...........
Long time ago !!! Edna
Reading back through some of the comments, I noticed the reference to the increase in crime during the blackout.
There was quite a bit in Portsmouth but one very famous one was 'The Red Shoes Murder', still in the reference books, I believe, as unsolved,
The body of this young woman was found near a pub at Mile End down Commercial Road. The police were very reluctant to release details so the rumours started and proliferated. I can't remember how she died, I think she was strangled, but of course everyone assumed she was a 'lady of the night' because she wore red shoes!!!
It was also assumed that there was a sailor involved - poor Jack, always expected to carry the can!
Edna
Francis Stanley
22-09-2009, 07:45
Edna
Your accounts are fascinating thankyou so much for posting them.
There is one thing evident that history does not usually show and thats how the majority of people managed day to day life. You only usually get to hear about the great and the good. When people tut tut about crime today and how bad everything has become they seem to forget there have always been bad things going on at a local level that weren't usually known about outside of the location where it happened. With todays communication overload every one knows all of the bad things going on, the good things don't get so much interest do they?
I was interested to read about the crime going on during the blitz, It is obvious to me now that it must have gone on. The usual rose tinted view is that everyone banded together and even the criminals were just loveable rogues. The reality was they were scary hard times where the selfish took advantage of a bad situation when everyone else were just trying to make the best of a bad job.
HMS Excellent - Whale Island
IF you gunners remember the Stamshaw Foreshore (the route from Whaley footbridge to Tipnor butts for shooting practice) you may remember the Stamshaw open-air swimming pool; it was quite small, although, looking back to my childhood, it seemed quite large then. There was also a water tower.
The army had a problem - barrage balloon or ack-ack site? The pool had been drained so German aircraft could not spot it (why the powers-that- be should bother, when the channel between Whaley and Stamshaw was gleaming, even a low tide!) In the end, they decided (we heard) that the site was too small for a barrage balloon ( and there might be a problem with the water tower!) plus the fact that they had already put a barrage balloon in the playground of Stamshaw Junior Boys School --- so they put an ack-ack unit there.
I understand there were some unprintable exchanges when the navy passed, on their way to Tipnor Butts, but I was not there to verify!!!!
The old swimming pool site/recreation ground is probably now a housing estate, anyone know???
Edna
Francis Stanley
22-09-2009, 11:36
Apologies if this doesn't fit here but these are memories of my late mother - a Navy Wife during the war and so I felt thjat this was the right thread to post it to:
1939 September 3rd. War was declared, we all had to be issued with gas masks, we had to take them with us whenever we went out. The adult ones were carried over our shoulders in a bag, Anne’s ( my sister) was like a Mickey mouse face and had to be carried everywhere in a bag, Kits (My sister - she was a baby then) was like an enormous tent and had to be fixed on her pram, we had to take all that out every time we went shopping. You can imagine what it was like every time, getting ready to go shopping, or worse still when the air raid warnings went and we had to run for the shelters which were over a hundred yards away. They would go two or three times a day and during the night. while Ernie (my Dad) was away in the Med the air raids started getting very intense. I decided I would rather be at home with my parents. (She was living in Plymouth at the time)
I went to the Barracks to get my travel warrant, in time to hear the sirens again, a plane swooped out of the sun and dropped its bombs on the Barracks. I had left the two girls with a neighbour so they were all right, while I rushed into a shop as the warnings sounded. As soon as the all clear was sounded I went into the pay office in time to see some sailors being brought along on stretchers. I was truly very upset over that.
Eventually we got back to Hersham, where the air raids seemed to have followed me. I was still living with my parents until I could find a house. We had a lot of alarms and once we were all asleep downstairs dotted about the rooms, as it didn’t seem safe upstairs. There was an awful noise and I heard an Air Raid Warden shout to someone that,
” 261 got that one!”
That was our number, then my dad came into the room with a roof slate in his hand, his face was ashen, he said it was at the back door off of our roof.
The Warden came knocking and told us all to get out quickly as there was an unexploded bomb next door. It had fallen between the houses, which were semi’s.
We all trooped round to Granny Stanley’s, who lived a couple of roads away. After a lot of confusion and explaining, we had to spend the rest of the night there on chairs or on the floor.
Next morning my mum went to our place to get stuff for breakfast and for a change of clothing as the menfolk, my dad and brother had to go to work. The Military would not let her in, they hadn’t removed the shell. So, as Kit was a small baby I had to go out and buy her a complete change of clothes before I could get her washed and changed. When we were eventually allowed back home, the place seemed as if it was full of soot, the fireplaces had all had the soot blown down the chimneys, gosh what a mess.
1941 There were lots of very frightening things going on, with the air raids and the worry over Ernie being in the thick of it all. When the Battle of Britain was taking place the planes were overhead all day and the excitement was unbelievable. We had no TV but kept the radio going and every so often we would hear that another German plane had been shot down (cheers all round).
I got an enormous Iron table indoor air raid shelter so didn’t have to run for shelter, we slept under it, it was as big as a double bed and I put a Mattress down for the two girls and myself. It was all very frightening believe me.
When the girls were older they went to school. I had to get them on my bike, one on the saddle, one on the back in a carrier and I stood on the peddles. All this to get them there before the warnings sounded again as by now the “ Buzz Bombs” or “Doodle Bugs” (V 1 Rockets) had started. Lots of times I managed to get them to school, then had to drop into a ditch on the way home as the darned things were on the way. They used to give out a loud drone and when it stopped the bomb dropped like a stone.
One time I had just gone to my front door to get the paper when I heard this awful drone, then it cut out. Luckily the girls were at home at the time, so I shouted at them to get under the shelter fast, but it had dropped before they or I could do anything. Poor little Kit went into hysterics, but Anne was calm as always. After the all clear I went into the Kitchen to get some milk that I had left in a saucepan ready for the girls. It was full of black stuff. When I went upstairs for something I discovered the back bedroom ceiling was down. When I tried to open the backdoor it was jammed shut, the front door however was wide open and wouldn’t close.
I hope those days never come back.
Guz rating
22-09-2009, 13:25
Francis that's a wonderful account of everyday life recorded by your mother. And I thank you for posting it. I remember talking to an old lady about ten years ago. She lived down Charlton Lane near the football ground. She said her family would go to a communal shelter at Plumstead Common at night. The shelter was covered with a great mound of soil. Her father took her and her sister on top of the shelter to see the
the whole of the dock-lands and river blazing. She thought no one could have lived through that but they did. When they got back home the next morning a lot of the houses near the football ground had been flattened by land mines. The houses contained lots of her school mates they were all dead. One strange case she told me
a neighbour was leaving her house with her little boy as a bomb dropped the woman was never found but the little boy was uninjured. I also remember hearing a story about a French person remarking how beautiful Paris was compered to London. they were reminded Paris was never bombed London was.
Alan
PS This is a wonderful thread
Shelters could be a bit of a problem in themselves - if your local street shelter was 'adopted' by a resident, it would be kept in good condition and some people took camp beds and bedding there, knowing they would be safeguarded by the 'carer'; 'unadopted' shelters not only had goods stolen, they were often used by passers-by as urinals
Domestic shelters were Andersons and Morrisons. Andersons were supplied as curved corrugated iron panels which were bolted together to make an arch, so a family with two parents and four children had six panels, making three arches, closed at one end with a solid sheet, while the other end had a similar sheet with a square access hole. You provided your own seating and step into the depths - they had to be placed in a pit at least three feet deep, and the soil removed was placed on top, plus some more if you could manage it! Some gardens never recovered, other people turned their shelter into a garden shed with rockery after the war!
The Morrison was different; about 6 - 10 ft wide (different sizes) and 4 - 5ft wide, the ends were closed and there was a support halfway along each side; our dentist had one, and I remember spending an afternoon in it!
We didn't have either, we shared the shelter o a neighbour at No. 1, almost next door to Sydenham's timber yard. A couple with widowed brother-in-law and combined family of 7 children had a large Anderson, but all their children had been evacuated so they offered space to their neighbours at No.3 and my mother and me.
This was fine until a bomb landed behind Sydenham's office and the shelter rocked as if it might turn turtle; there was a tremendous explosion and crashing of glass, which left us all deafened temporarily. When mum and I crossed the road home, all our north and west-facing windows had been blown out, and Toby, our dog, was hiding under the kitchen table (we were not allowed to take him to the shelter). He was hysterical and it took us a long time to calm him down and he never fully recovered; we had to have him put to sleep because he had nervous hysteria and bit anyone who approached him.
After that, we slept in the neighbour's shelter every night until my father came home on a long weekend. He brought the double bed downstairs to the front living room and a camp bed for me in the main living room and we slept there. downstairs, diving under the bed when there was a risk, so we did not have to rush across the road in the dark.
We survived, but I think we all have a few bruises, mental perhaps rather than physical - I have heard it said that families who lived through the war do not like to say goodbye, perhaps it is still too threatening.
Edna
The winter of 1939-40 was the coldest recorded in 45 years. In Jan 1940, the sea at Southend froze over during the night and as the tide went out (over a mile) the ice dropped down onto the exposed mud in the shape of the waves. I remember this clearly although many people have told me since it would have been impossible for salt water to freeze that way. A Yahoo Search of "UK winter in 1939" confirms all of this including the Thames freezing over for 8 miles near Teddington. My grandparents, whom we lived with then, blamed Adolf H. Rob T
Oh, yes, 39/40 was cold indeed! Crates of tiny one-third pint milk bottles were delivered to the school every morning, for us to drink a the 11 am break - unfortunately they had frozen overnight and not defrosted, so the milk extruded from the top of the milk bottle, with the cardboard bottle top balanced on top. The boys giggled themselves silly, the girls didn't know why.......
Incidentally, school milk was one of the outcomes of WW1; originally the young men were volunteers but the doctors carrying out the medicals after the call-up started were so shocked by the poor physique of the recruits that they pressured the government to introduce school milk to try to improve the health of the children of the poorest families, but it took much longer to get school dinners.
Wayside comment - when I was evacuated the tiny village school (2 teachers, 32 children), could not get any straws to push through the hole in the cardboard bottle top, so we all had to take a cup to school to drink our milk because the Scottish head teacher was mad on hygiene and would not let us drink from the bottles! My goodness me!!
Edna
Great stories Ednamay and all,
Please keep posting...this is the type of "everyday" history that you generally don't hear accounts of unless you've either lived through it or had family members who did. With regard to the animals that had to be put down because of the trauma of bombings...I believe that happened a lot...I know that both my parent's families had pets that didn't fare well at all, during the bombings.
Regards,
Bee
p.s. Still trying to get my Mum's computer to get posts through to the forum.
She has some interesting tales that I'd love for her to be able to share with you all.
I think it was 10th January 1940. My mother and I were still living in our home near Whale Island, and we were expecting my father home for a long weekend (Friday to Monday) from 'upcountry' so we had saved up some rations to make a fruitcake on Thursday. The week had been fairly quiet; there had been alarms, usually about 6-7pm, and we went to our neighbour's Anderson shelter, but the aircraft flew over, and we had become blasé about going across the road to the shelter in the early hours of the morning, when the aircraft were on their way home.
This night, we went over after the early warning but this was different; almost immediately we heard explosions, bangs and crashes, from 'downtown' and we thought that Commercial Road, the big shopping centre, was the target. There was no all clear, the raid went on till the early hours of the morning; when we finally left the shelter the whole southern sky was a mass of flames and smoke, reflected up into the clouds.
My father had not reached home and my mother was getting very distressed, so I made a pot of tea - something I was not usually allowed to do because my mother had a fear of my using the big kettle and scalding myself.
The rumour was that Commercial Road, the Town Station and the Guildhall had all been destroyed. When my father, filthy and dead tired, arrived we heard the truth; there was some damage to shops in Commercial Road and to the Station, and there were no buses running, but the real disaster was the Guildhall. It had been firebombed, and all service personnel arriving at the town station had been conscripted to help the fire brigade control the fire and rescue the city records, to little avail. For the rest of the war the Guidhall stood, minus the top of its tower, a completely empty shell.
One rather strange outcome of this event, later in the war many of the secondary schools (pupils 11-14) were asked to draw a sketch plan of their site, for the City Architects Department to work on for records and restoration purposes. My school had some militant ladies, so we did not produce a 'sketch plan'; they brought in blueprints and deeds of their own homes so we could see how plans were produced - and then we produced a masterpiece! Using cricket pitch chain measures, we covered every inch of the school, upstairs (Senior girls) and downstairs (Mixed Infants), and sent off our offering. We received a letter of commendation from the Powers-that-be! (now probably lost).
I don't know what the boys' school did, across the road; we didn't talk to them!
And you will never believe this - the name of the school was Flying Bull Lane Senior School! It was one of the early Board Schools (1880s) and now would be an historic site, but it was destroyed, not by bombs but by the planners when they built the 275 motorway.
Hope I haven't bored you to tears!!!
Edna
Francis Stanley
28-09-2009, 09:26
Edna
Your posts are never boring
I love to read about the everyday stuff that you put on here, so please continue.
Incidently my father in law told me of a time when he and his family were making for one of the public shelters in Arundel street one night but were turned away as it was full, they made their way to another shelter. In the morning they discovered that the shelter had taken a direct hit and all the occupants had been killed. There but for the grace of god my wife may never have been born.
Know Pompey? Know Whale Island?
If you were a gunner, did you know The Air Balloon, a big old pub on the corner, where Twyford Avenue met Kingston Crescent and became Commercial
road? Lots of matelots used that stop because more buses came from North End down Kingston Crescent than came down Twyford Avenue through Stamshaw.
To get there, from Whaley Bridge, Jolly Jack walked up Stanley Road to Simpson Alley, through to the Simpson Tavern (quick wet) in Simpson Road, right into Cobbett Road and left into Tipnor Street, then right into Twyford Avenue and away you go! And a quick one at The Air Balloon if the buses were late, as happened often during the war.
The pub had a very big cellar; How do I know? The landlord was ex-navy.
My father, coming home for a long weekend, met him on the bus on Friday evening. Dad had not seen him for years and had never met his wife, so we were invited to 'afternoon tea' on Saturday, to allow time for us to get home before opening time and before the evening raid alert.
Unfortunately, Jerry started early so we went down to the cellar for shelter. We played snakes and ladders and 'uckers', with the radio for background music, but the all clear did not go so we could not go home - the wardens would have shooed us off the streets.
There was a lot of noise of gunfire and explosions, but it did not seem near, until there was one enormous blast, much nearer, with reverberations and minor explosions which seemed to go on and on for ever. Mr. Mountifield, the Landlord, went up to see if there was any news and saw the street warden passing; he said that a landmine had been dropped in Crasswell Street, Landport, just half a mile down the road, behind the Commercial Road Shops. About six streets of houses had been totally destroyed and they were still trying to rescue and account for the residents.
The Mountifields had put some camp beds and blankets in the cellar so we spent the night there until the all clear went in the morning. When we went home in the morning, there was greasy grey ash everywhere; that is a night I will never forget.
Edna
Vegaskip
30-09-2009, 10:53
Another great story Edna, keep 'em comming.
regards
Hi All,
Interesting stories...(of normal people in abnormal times).
Thought you might be interested in this one that I've just recently collected from my Mum...that I had heard of…but until now didn’t know the exact details of.
This happened in the early 1940s, in the North end of Birkenhead, after a bombing raid. The street involved was full of terraced houses with no gardens so the people of there shared a (probably underground) communal air raid shelter.
A landmine bomb exploded in the street, reducing everything to rubble. My Dad’s Stepmother’s sister and family lived on that street and the sister had apparently been in the shelter with her (approx 3y.o. daughter, Edith, sitting on her knee) when the bomb exploded. Little Edith was the only survivor from the whole street….she was found sitting on top of the rubble. She told her rescuers that a big black man had reached down and picked her up and sat her there and told her to wait for people to come and get her. The devastation surrounding her was so bad that her mother’s remains were only able to be identified by her wedding ring and a piece of material from her dress. (As most of the women made their own clothes those days, her sisters were able to recognize the piece of patterned material.) Edith was taken to a hospital to recover and had a wound on her forehead bandaged.
Meantime, my Dad’s oldest brother, John, was given compassionate leave to help their step mum search hospitals to see if any of her sister’s family had survived.
On searching the hospitals, Edie (the step mum) came across her niece Edith when she heard a little voice call out “DeeDee” which is what Edith called her Aunty.
Apparently Edith’s father had been on duty elsewhere but he had also been severely injured….but before he was taken to hospital he had managed to get back to where his street had been, and was devastated when he saw the absolute destruction and believed that his wife and child must have been killed, as there was nothing left.
Sadly for Edith, her father, who had then been taken to different hospital, basically lost the will to live as he still believed that both his wife and daughter had perished…even though he was told that Edith had survived and was recovering in another hospital. (He just thought that people were saying that to give him strength and couldn’t/wouldn’t believe it.) Thus, sadly, Edith was orphaned.
Edith was then fostered by another of her Aunties… Flo ( known to Edith as: Aunty “Wo”…who raised her along with her own 2 sons.) The only physical damage that Edith ended up carrying from that time was a scar on her forehead in the shape of a victory V.
………………………………………………………………………………………................. ........
Still hoping that my mum (Peggy) will be able to share her stories with you herself in the near future.
Regards,
Bee
Francis Stanley
01-10-2009, 08:57
That heart wrenching story brings to mind my mother-in-laws lucky escape when she was a young girl of about 3 she had been evacuated from Portsmouth to the Isle of Wight, One Sunday morning she and her 12 year old brother were at a church waiting for the service to begin in Shanklin, her brother was outside having a sly cigarette when he saw a bomber coming low in their direction, he ran in to the church and pushed his sister and her little friend under the pew, at the same moment the church received a direct hit, my Ma in law and her friend survived as did her brother, but very few others made it including the priest. my ma in law recieved severe damage to both legs, and spent many months in hospital, her brother received a serious head injury and was taken to a hospital in Alton where he recovered after about 6 months. I have a picture of the damage which I will post when I can scan it in
Thanks for that; the Birkenhead story was horrific. People just do not realise what life was like then.
Although I live on the edge of Sandown and Shanklin, I don't know much about their wartime stuff, no-one talks about it - it's only us getting-oldies who have these memories, but I must admit that, as I get older, I can remember these events more easily than things that happened last week!
My mother had a nervous breakdown with the stress of worry about my father (navy) and my brother (FAA) so she and I evacuated ourselves on doctor's orders. First of all we stayed with one of my mother's sisters but later moved to her cousin in the next village - she had more room and didn't mind the dog. I became rather introverted because the other kids in school used to ask about bombs and sleeping in shelters but didn't believe what I said so I stopped trying to tell them. In the second school, much smaller (two teachers and thirty-two children, two of us evacuees) they were much busier with their own lives and didn't worry about ours. Our weekly adventure was putting on our gasmasks and walking across the Home Park of the country estate to the church, to get used to them in case we ever needed them 'for real'!
My mother wanted to be nearer our home in Portsmouth so we moved to her friend in Petersfield; we began to hear aircraft again there, but only going overhead to somewhere else, until one day one lone aircraft swooped down over the school playground and we dashed into school for shelter as he opened fire. There had been no air raid warning. Luckily no-one was hurt, but the boys had a wonderful time collecting the shells.
We decided this was enough, and moved back to Portsmouth for the rest of the war.
Ednamay
Francis Stanley
02-10-2009, 17:03
Attached picture is of the Shanklin church bomb from post #53
Thanks for posting that, Francis. I often wonder what kind of psychological damage experiences such as these must have had on the survivors....and yet they seemed to cope....somehow. I guess all their neighbours were going through similar things & communities seemed to rally together to help each other. (I also think at times...thank goodness there weren't counsellors around... I think everything would have ground to a halt...)
The country town that I live in has an old WW2 air raid siren as a community alert system for calling the volunteer fire/emergency workers together. It is a sound that carries far and wide...but I've often thought that it must be horrible for our older residents, who may have heard similar during WW2.
Regards,
Bee
The siren (sometimes called the 'sirene') air raid alert.
After 70 years I still jump when I hear a siren, which, thankfully, is very seldom nowadays.
However, my grandmother, a jumpy old lady and totally deaf, could still tell when the warning went - no, it wasn't vibrations! She lived with my aunt in a cottage facing across the Cricket Green in Hartley Wintney and the Fire Station was diagonally across the green, with quick access to the road. She spent a lot of time watching people crossing the green (only schools cricket during the war) and noticed when the fire engine was run out!! She knew!!
Ednamay
I remember being instructed how to operate the hand pump attached to my little brothers gas mask, it looked a bit like a divers helmet , secured around the waist. They closed the infant school, we attended as a small group in peoples houses for a few hours each week. In 39 we had been to Cleethorps for a summer holiday, when we came home there was a pile of corrugated steel sheets, angle irons & bags of nuts & bolts in the front garden, our Andersen shelter had arrived.
You just reminded me Keith...my Mum once mentioned that her younger sister had a "Mickey Mouse" gas mask....supposedly made so little kids would be happy to put them on. Apparently my Aunty, (who was about 2 or 3 at the time) flatly refused to wear hers...no matter how they tried to cajole her. Just as well they never needed to use them! Also Mum mentioned that if you forgot to take your gas mask with you (to school)...there would be wardens who would send you home to get it. She also knew that some people took the gas mask case, without the gas mask inside...just used the case to carry their lunch.:rolleyes:
My Mum's family also had an Anderson shelter in their yard - which they frequently had to use, during air raids.
My husband has just said " You wouldn't have been able to use Anderson shelters in Australia....as you'd lose too many people to redback spider bites." (Any piece of wood or, especially, iron left in a yard soon becomes "home" to redbacks.) Hubby knows quite a bit about this as he spent much of his childhood building cubbies with corrugated iron roofs. Plus in his trade he often had to work in spider infested telecommunication pits....another great home for the redback. :eek:
Regards,
Bee
I joined a few days ago but I only made my first posting to day and that was on the fastest ship in the Navy as I was looking for info on HMS Apollo.
My Dad still living at 87 served on the depot ship HMS Bonaventure and went minelaying on HMS Apollo.
He enlisted under the NS Act 1939 on 27th April 1942 and discharged on 12th May 1944 to the reserve list. He left to become a Bevan Boy.
He did training on the Concrete Ships...HMS Ganges at Shotley and HMS Pembroke at Chatham.
As you will know the X Craft were the point of the film "Above us the Waves".
I remember that we got free tickets to see this film in Sheffield. As I was only a very small girl at the time...I cannot remember much about that, only that the manager met us in the foyer and as we were shown up the stairs I demanded that I wanted an ice cream and the manager told one of the staff to get me one. That's much more inportant to roughly a 4year old girl.:)
astraltrader
05-10-2009, 14:33
A great post Wendy that I felt deserved to be moved to this thread.
Hi Wendy,
I'm sure you and your Dad will love this forum. There are a lot of ex Ganges trained lads/men here...so you and he would probably enjoy checking out their "Ganges thread" too. Looking forward to reading your posts and maybe seeing some of your Dad's photos. :)
Cheers,
Bee (daughter of a late ww2 Veteran...you'll find some of my Dad's stories on the Aegean Memories thread)
"He did training on the Concrete Ships...HMS Ganges at Shotley and HMS Pembroke at Chatham"
Good to see another ex-Ganges Boy has joined. We have got to keep those pretenders from St. Vincent and Raleigh in line!!!!!!
Hi Wendy, and Welcome.
My dad was an instructor at Ganges round about that time; ask your dad if he remembers an influx of Canadian recruits from Newfoundland. According to my dad, they found it extremely difficult to march BUT could sail like the wind and turn a small vessel on a sixpence. Some were better gunners than others, but those who had 'the eye' were superb. He had 'the eye', his father was a gamekeeper and he had handled guns from an early age.
Apparently, there were some walnut trees on the base and my dad, a countryman by upbringing, taught them how to pickle walnuts - which stain your fingers if you don't use a fork! (Some people tried to steal them!)
During the early part of the war, when he was transfered to the army and led mobile guns around East Anglia to confuse the enemy (!), his platoon got no breaks for a decent night's sleep, so he whipped them off to Ganges, where he found some old mates from his earlier days, so they all got time to overhaul their equipment, a chance of a bath, a proper cooked meal, an opportunity to change their clothes - and a decent night's sleep on the base.
Soon after that the army brought in their own Regimental Sergeant Majors and my dad and some of the other recalled pensioners were drafted to training establishments, to release men for sea service, and he became an instructor at Ganges
Guz rating
05-10-2009, 16:41
Wonderful stories, living history nothing like the the official account. That we were all happy little souls with stiff upper lips. What I read on this this thread is a repeat of what I heard from my aunts and my cousins. Their answer was they were here, with no where else to go. So they had to make the best of it. The men my uncles were away at the war. Living for the letters from home, to know everyone was safe. They awarded Malta the "George Cross" and rightly so. I feel the people of Britain who had stay at home deserved some recognition.
Alan
Hi Wendy, and Welcome.
My dad was an instructor at Ganges round about that time; ask your dad if he remembers an influx of Canadian recruits from Newfoundland. According to my dad, they found it extremely difficult to march BUT could sail like the wind and turn a small vessel on a sixpence. Some were better gunners than others, but those who had 'the eye' were superb. He had 'the eye', his father was a gamekeeper and he had handled guns from an early age.
Apparently, there were some walnut trees on the base and my dad, a countryman by upbringing, taught them how to pickle walnuts - which stain your fingers if you don't use a fork! (Some people tried to steal them!)
During the early part of the war, when he was transfered to the army and led mobile guns around East Anglia to confuse the enemy (!), his platoon got no breaks for a decent night's sleep, so he whipped them off to Ganges, where he found some old mates from his earlier days, so they all got time to overhaul their equipment, a chance of a bath, a proper cooked meal, an opportunity to change their clothes - and a decent night's sleep on the base.
Soon after that the army brought in their own Regimental Sergeant Majors and my dad and some of the other recalled pensioners were drafted to training establishments, to release men for sea service, and he became an instructor at Ganges
So thats where those pickled walnuts came from, we used to be issued every sunday with a jar when on canteen messing.
You live and learn Keith :),
Ednamay, comes up with some very interesting snippets. So, were the walnuts a bit of a treat? Also, Edna...do you still have the recipe for pickled walnuts??
Cheers,
Bee
A great post Wendy that I felt deserved to be moved to this thread.
I can understand now why I could not find my posting on new members. Thank You for moving it also Thank You for the welcome from lots of you.
Ednamay I will ask my Dad about the Canadians. I will be seeing him on Wednesday.
I know he had something to do with gunnery on both Bonaventure & Apollo, but he also used to see to the Captains when they were on the Bridge taking them cocoa etc. When he was on Bonaventure I know he went inside the midget submarines (x-craft), because he said about how small they were. If I remember right I am sure he said he lead painted them inside & out. Everything was really Top Secret then. He started with the Bonaventure when it was in Greenock putting all the supplies onboard. I really must try to remember everything right. When he was on Apollo he had to take his turn on shoving the Mines out.
As for photo's I know he has one of himself taken in his uniform, more of a portrait style. There is also one of him with two of his mates at the time, that might have been Bonaventure. Its been a couple of years since I last saw them.
I shall have to take a pad & pen and sort it all out.
The site is really interesting. It will be lots better when I can find my way better around the forums.
Wendy B
astraltrader
05-10-2009, 21:03
A pleasure Wendy - if you check your PM`s - personal messages - you will see that I did tell you where I had moved it!
Vegaskip
06-10-2009, 12:01
Hi Wendy, if you go to 'Jims Ship Paintings'...page 1..post#23...bottom row third from the left, there is a painting I did of H.M.S.Bonaventure and an X Craft along with its towing submarine.
regards
PS it is also 'November' on the calender in that thread.
Midget submarines - there was a guy in Exeter named Craig, can't remember his first name but his wife was Helen, they lived in Heavitree; he was one of the few survivors of the midget submarines. There was a small book about them, with pictures of the experimental ones and the guys who tested and used them. He died in the early 70s, I believe. If his wife is still alive she would be in her 80s but my contact = her friend, Ruby Tregidga, died a few years ago.
Pickled walnuts !!! I'll have a look through the recipe books but (a) I don't cook much nowadays and (b) I have moved house several times..........
Yes, they are a speciality, some people think they are an acquired taste. My father loved them, my mother wasn't too keen, I quite liked them but haven't seen any since I last went to the Garlic Festival, five years ago (the ground is a bit heavy underfoot nowadays!).
There is a lot of noise from the stairs where my son is preparing to redecorate the hall stairs and landing so, when he took his break, I 'told him the tale'.
We had to wait our turn to get window glass replaced during the war, after the bombings, but we were also supposed to send in details of any destruction, like curtains and wallpaper damaged by flying glass, etc., roof tiles / electrical wiring damaged, ec.
Towards the end of the war (or possibly soon after, like the interval between VE Day and VJ Day), a little man came round with a briefcase and clipboard - strange things in those days. He checked his list of our claims against the state of the building and eventually we had a letter, telling us what we were entitled to.
In our case, nothing upstairs or in the stairwell, but some roof tiles and 'wall covering' downstairs; this meant distempering in the kitchen (OK) but only painting over the wallpaper in the middle room (daily living room) and the front sitting room, though we had a fairly restricted choice of colours.. Although my father argued loud and long, we got no further until he suggested stippling, when they were prepared to meet us half-way. We had pale walls (the then equivalent of magnolia!) with sponges dipped in our chosen colours to 'stipple', and the apprentices who did the job thoroughly enjoyed themselves because it was different from all their other jobs!
I don't know if my son appreciated the story, but he is back preparing walls!
Ah, me, such is life!!!
Ednamay
Keep them coming Ednamay....I'm seeing my Mum again tomorrow and will try and extract another couple of stories from her. :)
Also, I wonder if you've ever had any funny occurences with the "may" part of your name. My Aunty has "May" as her middle name....and she married a man with the surname of "Rumble". Just thought I'd add that, as it always makes me smile, when you run the 3 names together. :D
Regards,
Bee
We youngsters were taught how to use a stirrup pump, standing by a bucket of water, pumping like mad for Dad to spray the incendiary. When they started using exploding incendries the person on the nozzle end was advised to get behind something when near the bomb. The hose length was about 8ft, the pumper yours truly was still standing upright.
Bee - you asked about the May part.
My godmother (my father's mate's fiancee) was Edna and my mother liked her....My brother said May because I was born in May (6 weeks early, always in a hurry) and my father said "Oh, Edna May, the Belle of New York!" and promptly took a postcard out of his pocket (which I still have, somewhere!)
I was a stubborn, opinionated child so my brother called me 'Edna May Not' and at school I was called Edna (or Anna) May Wong. One neighbour called me EDnamay and I had jokes and comments about it into m teens. Nowadays, nobody bothers!!!! Joke over!!
Edna
My worst experience of the war took place when my mother and I were staying with her friend in Petersfield, 18 miles from Portsmouth and supposedly safe - so much so that we didn't take our gasmasks with us when we took the dogs across the fields towards Butser Hill, but we did when we took them down to Heath Pond because the Warden used to go down there. Not content with telling us off, he told the Headteacher so we got a second telling-off in school. At night, we could see the fires of Portsmouth in the sky beyond Butser Hill to the south.
However, I wander. We seldom heard the air-raid siren in Petersfield; When we did, we went into the school or house, or shop if we were on the way home. Very few planes, mostly going over to raid somewhere up-country, or lost on the way back.
I was at the Junior School (7 to 11, for you moderners!) when one morning in the playground we heard an aircraft engine; there had been no warning so we thought it was 'one of ours'. Suddenly he dived down and started firing on the playground; we all rushed for the school door, or threw ourselves down as close to the wall as possible because we could not all get through the only two doors. There were no teachers in the playground and, when they came out, they did not believe what had happened and a policeman came to the school and told us we had misunderstood, the pilot had only buzzed the school, he had not fired on us - but some of the boys had collected bits of hot metal from the yard.
I thought of this when I read the thread above, about the 'stiff upper lip' image and I remembered other stories which had been suppressed during the war. Amount of damage and number of casualties and similar information was reduced or suppressed so as not to give information to the enemy, so no-one ever knew quite how much damage had been done in Portsmouth, especially in the dockyard and naval establishments.
I sometimes wonder about 'official communiqués'
Edna
P.S. Ganges Walnuts!! I have found the recipe, if you are gluttons for punishment!
Edna
Guz rating
11-10-2009, 13:53
Ednamay the Ganges boys will love the walnuts, it will make their little mouths shrivel up. And put them in the mood for a few pints. though from experience they need little excuse.:D:D:D
Alan
I don't think I have posted this before - forgive me if I have.
The fact that we lived on Jolly Jack's route from Whale Island to the Air Balloon meant that we occasionally got 'drop ins', asking how Biff (WW1) or Pop (WW2) (my father's nicknames) was getting on, occasionally with news of one of his mates; also, we were a convenient shelter for day-time raids.
One chappie said his father worked for the local authority and they were already drawing up forms to assess building damage reports. We had forms to send in after air raid damage, mostly broken windows but also roof tiles and sometimes doors blown off their hinges. Urgent stuff they tried to get done right away (although bedroom windows were not seen as a priority) including outside walls, generally, protection against the weather.
After the war these reports came back to haunt us when the official Inspector came to evaluate our needs. Roof tiles and outer walls were dealt with first, then they looked at inside walls. Lots of plaster had fallen off kitchen walls, this was replaced and the walls distempered. Plaster had sometimes fallen behind wallpaper in living rooms, and the decorators were going to decorate over that (more distemper) but my father put his foot down. He had never put one wallpaper over another, he wanted it stripped and the walls made good, and he didn't want plain distemper (even coloured) in our living room. We had some argy-bargy but the wallpaper was stripped and the walls made good; Official money was not available for wallpaper, and they would not be paid for wallpapering, they were only authorised to apply distemper, to the householders choice of colour (from about half-a-dozen).
My father came to an agreement with them; they would distemper in a pale colour and then he would pay for them to stipple with sponges - which they enjoyed because it made a bit of variety in their job!
It is a long, long time ago. I suppose we were lucky to have had any damage repairs, but what a hassle!
Edna
In the first 6 months of the War nothing very much happened on the Home Front although as is written in another thread 'No Phoney War for the RN', there was plenty of action on the high seas. One of the unfortunate side effects of the "Quiet" was that many city families whose children had been evacuated in a hurry immediately after war was declared, repatriated them back to the Big Smoke, just in time to experience the start of the Blitz.
Another feature of this time was the abundance of posters with patriotic messages which were displayed in all kinds of public places, railway stations, libraries, hospitals, schools, etc. Here are 4 of them I have found in the archives. Rob T
Wow! I loved the posters and yes, we had some in school.
We had a 'DIG FOR VICTORY' poster in school - bit of a problem, most of our children lived in houses with little or no garden. We tried to keep my father's garden going, mint at the end, scarlet runners by the (high) outside wall (ours was a corner house), tomatoes across the further end of the centre patch, cos lettuce just in front, King Edward potatoes in the rest of the centre, peas along the neighbour's wall - and a lilac tree to conceal the entrance to the outside loo!
Our art teacher designed her own poster, to put beside DIG FOR VICTORY: it was called 'KNIT FOR VICTORY' and had a very artistic representation of a navy-blue Guernsey sweater and a pair of creamy-coloured seaboot stockings on a pale green card - I think I told you we had quantities of knitting wool to make up in our 'spare time'!!
Edna
Great posters Jonti - thankyou.
Also, thankyou for digging up the recipe Edna...I think you have a few of us awaiting it now :)
I'm sure that, as Guz mentioned - it'll bring back memories for the Ganges crew.
Cheers,
Bee
Guz rating
13-10-2009, 12:02
A lovely snapshot of war-time Britain Ednamay, and Jonti's posters are thought provoking. In Blackheath Village were I live they have a shop, more of a museum that sells wartime sweets and is covered with the old posters. I should be down there next week I'll see if its still in existence if it is I will ask if I can take a photo.
Regards
Alan.
GANGES WALNUTS!!!
I have sent the recipe PM to people who asked, if anyone else wants a copy, please let me know.
Ednamay
Guz rating
14-10-2009, 14:32
GANGES WALNUTS!!!
I have sent the recipe PM to people who asked, if anyone else wants a copy, please let me know.
Ednamay
Ednamay, I would really like a copy of the recipe so I can try it to see if your mother right. I have read your PM and I am glad to hear everything is progressing so well. My daughter was my helper and a wonderful too.
Regards
Alan
Ednamay's "Dig for Victory" poster rang bells. Every person with a garden was encouraged to dig it up and plant vegetables for their use. Any unused space not normally recognised as a possble garden like land either side of railway lines, public parks even Hyde Park I think, and open council land was offered to the Public as allotments. These were a smallish tract of land which one person could reasonably look after and be productive. 50 years on some still exist today around the country. Having allotments by the sides of the railway transformed a generally untidy overgrown area into a neat picture. Here are some posters on that subject. Rob T
Great posters Jonti - thankyou.
Also, thankyou for digging up the recipe Edna...I think you have a few of us awaiting it now :)I'm sure that, as Guz mentioned - it'll bring back memories for the Ganges crew.
Cheers,
Bee
Yes Edna....I too would love a copy of your Dad's famous "pickled walnuts" recipe.
Thanks in anticipation,
Cheers,
Bee :)
PICKLED WALNUTS -
Have posted several PMs, hope you like them!
Edna
My next door neighbour was groaning about travel problems (well, we do live on the Isle of Wight!) and it reminded me that travel during the war was sometimes very difficult. My father said they relaxed the rules for arriving on the dot at RNB and elsewhere because of the difficulties of trains getting through.
While we were evacuated my father used to come to us for long weekends, but go straight to Pompey if he had a 7-day, to check if the house was OK, and we used to join him there. He could be held up travelling across London, and then, with luck, on the Waterloo-Portsmouth fast(!)
We travelled from Winchfield, (Hampshire) to Woking and pick up the the fast (if we were lucky), or to Basingstoke and Eastleigh if we went on the 'slow', calling at all stations (cheaper tickets). We never knew what time the trains would arrive because of hold-ups further 'up the line'.
In the summer of 1940 my mother and I, with her sister and my cousin, went to meet my brother (17, FAA electrical artificer apprentice) coming for summer leave, first visit to my aunt's home.
My brother was a terrible practical joker and, not realising my mother was on a very slender thread, told her the underground went under the Thames - she nearly had hysterics.
Luckily we were soon at Waterloo where she had two Aspirin and a cup of tea and we all had tea and a bun - just as well, because the train was held up at New Malden, where the railyard had been bombed and there was debris over all the tracks. It had to be cleared before our train could move on so we did not get to Winchfield until the early hours of the morning. There was no chance of being able to get a taxi but the local newsagent used to collect his papers from the station and packed us all into his van somehow and dropped us at Phoenix Green (my aunt's village) on his way to Hartley Wintney, the main village. A very long day!!!
Ednamay
Some of our information about the progress of the war came from 'Germany Calling'; we used to listen for a laugh, partly because 'Lord HawHaw' had a rather peculiar voice, but also because he often had some very garbled information - once, for instance, he told us that the Luftwaffe had sunk HMS Excellent! There were times, however, when some of his information was uncannily accurate.
Just before the war, Portsmouth switched its internal transport system from electric trams to electric (trolley) buses; in order to speed up operations (and probably to save money), the local authority surfaced the roads over the tram rails. Come the war, we were all asked to donate our iron gates and fences and any old or unwanted cooking pots for the war effort, and Portsmouth decided to pull up the tramlines and donate them - within a short space of time, Lord Hawhaw broadcast his message to Portsmouth, don't bother with your tramlines, we will come and blow them up for you. It was unnerving and not so funny.
Apparently, Lord Hawhaw was an Irishman named something Joyce and he was prosecuted for sedition after the war.
Edna
astraltrader
17-10-2009, 22:59
On January 9th 1946 William Joyce aka Lord Haw Haw was hanged at Wandsworth Prison for his acts of treason during WW2.
An interesting link describing this...
http://www.executedtoday.com/2009/01/03/1946-william-joyce-lord-haw-haw/
Lord HawHaw sometimes was rather spooky with his comments on the radio. A famous story of those days was he would nominate a prominent clock on a church tower and advise quite correctly that it was either slow or fast and by how many minutes. These events hastened the removal of all signposts and distance markers from the roads. Rob T
Thanks, I listened to 'the voice' and it really gave me the shivers after all these years - it never did at the time, I suppose it is all the consequences that now cause the emotions.
Ednamay
Haw-Haw called Sheffield the City on wheels, he gave the number of chimneys of a steel works they intended to bomb, we had lots of steel works but none with the number of chimneys he specified.
Guz rating
18-10-2009, 15:49
Lord Haw Haw, I remember my mother talking about him, one of his broadcasts he stated the Irish would be receiving Easter eggs with green ribbons. Shortly after Dublin was bombed, William Joyce was born in America and lived in Ireland, he informed on the IRA to the British forces. Moved to England and became a senior member of the British Union of Fascists. Escaped to Germany in 1939 when the fascists were interned. as stated was hanged for treason. Others used by the German propaganda machine, such as John Amery (Julian Amery's brother) John Amery was hanged in 1945. P J woodhouse said he was tricked into making broadcasts supporting the Nazi,s, and many more including the Duke of Windsor and his woman. And a network of spys who could supply such minuet details to the German war machine. To the terrible cost to the people of these Islands. For interest picture of William Joyce attached.
Alanhttp://www.worldnavalships.com/forums/attachment.php?attachmentid=59353&stc=1&d=1255880776
I vaguely remember Lord Hawhaw saying something about the Isle of Wight ferries but I could not remember what it was. I do know that it was impossible to get over to see my aunt, who lived in Binstead, just outside Ryde.
There had been rumours of a disaster on the Southern Railway (as it then was) ferry so I googled it up and found a whole lot of information about the ferries and their wartime service: try:-
www.history.inportsmouth.co.uk/events/ferries-ww2.htm
Ednamay
The Southend-on-Sea seafront runs from Shoeburyness to Leigh-on-Sea a distance of about 7 miles with the Esplanade road covering about 5 miles of that. The whole of the shoreline either side of the Thames Estuary was a declared 'Invasion Zone' and various measures were put in place to protect the shoreline.
At Southend, there were 2 or 3 lines of barbed wire along the whole length of the beach and landmines supposedly laid between them. Immediately off the beach and on the pavement of the Esplanade anti-tank traps were built. These were cement blocks about 5 ft high and 4ft square poured insitu with about 2 ft between blocks. The measurements may be off a little as I was only 6 at the time and very small for my age, and it was 70 years ago. If the Esplanade runs for 5 miles I estimate that 8800 concrete blocks were poured, and I suppose, all by shovel and powered mixer. No cement trucks in 1939.
If the wind was from the south and cold, walking along the Esplanade with blasts of cold air through the gaps between the blocks was unpleasant. Rob T
I have been watching the programme taking families in South Wales working the collieries back to wartime conditions and it sparked a few more memories.
During one of my periods of evacuation, I went to a tiny village school (where my father had gone in 1900-1908) straight into culture shock. Having started in a Portsmouth city 'mixed infants' school of two years, three classes each year, about 30 children to a class and then, at 7, moved on to a girls' junior having four years of three classes each, and again about 30 children in each class, this move to a school of 32 children (12 infants, 20 juniors) and two teachers was a shock, luckily two of the children were evacuees so the rarity value was not as bad as it might have been - and three of the children were cousins!
This was a church school, under the patronage of the local 'noble family' and recognised and part supported by the Hampshire County Council Education Department. This lead to all sorts of strange events; every Thursday morning the rector used to come in to tell us a bible story, then hear us say our catechism and sing a hymn - he was very fond of Moses leading the Israelites across the Red Sea. It also meant we had a termly inspection by the Diocesan Inspector (Diocese of Winchester) who also heard our catechism and might ask us questions about the Bible or the Book of Common Prayer. On one occasion, he told us about the days when the diocese included Portsmouth and the Isle of Wight (Portsmouth became an independent Diocese in 1920) and he visited schools on the Island. He was visiting a school where the Creed didn't sound right so he got each child to recite in turn - he found the problem... "he suffered under the Bonchurch Pilot", which only made sense to me! None of the other children knew anything about the Isle of Wight.
Registers had to be sent to the LA Education Department at Winchester at the end of each term BUT they had to be signed by the patron beforehand. As he was in the services, the Lady of the Manor used to call in to sign and we were drilled the day before; when the lady's companion opened the door we leapt to our feet. "Good morning, children"... "Good morning, m'lady" - and the girls curtseyed while the boys saluted. She often asked to see the art (!) or the girls' sewing. I could not believe it.
On the lighter side, once a week we had to put on our gas masks (and, like the boys on television, our boys blew raspberries) and then walk a mile across the Home Park to the church, where the rector met us and we removed our masks and sang a hymn - by which time the boys no longer had the puff to blow raspberries! But it made sure we could use our gas masks.
When I moved on to Senior School in the next village, life was a bit more familiar, more like a city school. BUT one of the teachers said to me, "I see you have your mother's knack with the sewing needle!" .. And I found another group of cousins.
When we moved back to Portsmouth, school life seemed quite mundane! But I had a clear three years there, after the toing and froing of the early war years.
Ednamay
andyrichards
22-10-2009, 16:58
Wonderful stories.
Does anyone recall the first wartime bombing of Portsmouth?
I'm doing some research and know it took place at about 5.45pm on 11th July. The report I have say most of the bombs fell around the gas works - anyone remember where that was?
Thanks for you help.
Good story, Ednamay
Life was so different in those days. A different world, even without the war. I went to school in the 50s and that seems a different world to these days.
Dave
astraltrader
22-10-2009, 20:23
Totally agree Dave I went to school in the early-mid 1960`s and it was vastly different than today even then...
tim lewin
23-10-2009, 05:17
I was born in 1947 and still remember visiting Portsmouth Whale Island in the family Morris 8 in the early fifties and seeing the Guildhall with no roof and whole areas of the City awaiting reconstruction. We lived in Hayling Island at the time and used to go into Havant on the puffing billy across the harbour, anyone remember this little engine? I still have the antique oak chest my parents bought to keep my, (and my sisters) toys in from Lawsons next the Halying station, as children we used to play in the abandonned army camp at Sinai Warren that I think went on to become Warners Holiday Camp? Originally we lived in St. Katherines Court where neighbours were Mike Pollock (former guns of HMS Norfolk at North Cape and later Admiral) then it was off to Malta (Chequers) before returning to Hayling again in 1951-ish. We lived then in Newtown House, or part of it, and I remember the field opposite still being ploughed by horse. There was a ferry, 30' open boat, i think, from the point to gosport which my father used to catch.
tim
Going to school in 1940 in Southend was a real problem as virtually all schools had closed. I must have run wild for the first 6 months of the war until the priest at the local Catholic church opened the church hall as a primary school with him as the only teacher. I was sent there and was not impressed as I was expelled along with a couple of 'mates' after just a few weeks. In Sept 1940 I was sent to boarding school in Malvern where I stayed for 6 years. There were many such schools in the area and our parents would have been less enthusiastic if they had known the Royal Radar Establishment used the Malvern Hills to develop radar by tracking men running around with reflectors on their backs. The Germans would have bombed the place to bits had they known. Another problem was I needed a permit to be allowed back into an invasion zone for holidays. Where that came from I have no idea. Rob T
Wonderful stories.
Does anyone recall the first wartime bombing of Portsmouth?
I'm doing some research and know it took place at about 5.45pm on 11th July. The report I have say most of the bombs fell around the gas works - anyone remember where that was?
Thanks for you help.
I do remember that 11th July was a lovely summer day; I can't remember whether it was a schoolday or not because I was at home recovering from German measles (I'm sure you can imagine all the jokes). My mother and I sat under the Kitchen table.
Schooling stopped for a few weeks in September 1939 but some parents did not want their children evacuated and some teachers had commitments (like elderly parents) so the local authority opened up the school and children went either mornings or afternoons - poor teachers worked both!
If I am not mistaken, the gasworks was near Rudmore Quay, which was the coal wharf. That is near where the Continental Ferry Terminal now sits, so it was not far from Whale Island, just across the water, and just down the shore from Sydenham's timber yard and Chalmers' shingle quay. All gone now, the only remaining landmark is the church of St. John the Baptist, which has been converted into flats
How the glory has departed!
Ednamay
andyrichards
23-10-2009, 17:31
Ednamay
Thanks you so much for the information, it is very useful for what I'm doing.
kind regards
Andy Richards
Portsmouth Central Public Library used to have some old maps of the city; if you contacted them, the librarian could probably check the maps for the position. Also (see above) Kevin 123 has a map showing the central Portsmouth area. My old maps have been lost in various house removals!
Ednamay
Garrison Theatre
I came across an article on some of the old music hall artists and I remembered how we used to switch on to several programmes designed to cheer us up!
One was Garrison Theatre, masterminded by Charles Shadwell (the conductor, who had managed a real garrison theatre in WW1) and carried by Jack Warner (born Horace John Waters) doing the continuity. Joan Winters (Charles Shadwell's daughter) was the usherette (Programmes, chocolate, cigarettes!) and Jack Warner's sisters, Elsie and Doris Waters, often appeared, a real family business.
I think Happidrome came later, with 'Enoch, Ramsbottom and Me', and then some other forces-based shows like 'Much Binding in the Marsh' (Air Force) - can't remember the navy based one - but the show that really caught on was ITMA - It's That Man Again' with Tommy Handley and 'Dis is Funf spieking', the German spy and Mrs. Mopp the Char trying to clean the offices with 'Can I do you now, sir?' We used to watch the Portsmouth Evening News to see if any of these artists were going to be at the Colisseum, because they were originally music hall performers.
Those were the days!
Ednamay
Hi Ednamay. I didn't know Elsie and Doris were sisters and Jack Warner their brother. Do you recall a man called Harry Hemsley, a Music hall act, who spoke baby talk and then translated it for the audience, always asking the question" What did Horace say? ". He disappeared when TV took over. Rob T
Francis Stanley
27-10-2009, 08:25
Garrison Theatre
I came across an article on some of the old music hall artists and I remembered how we used to switch on to several programmes designed to cheer us up!
One was Garrison Theatre, masterminded by Charles Shadwell (the conductor, who had managed a real garrison theatre in WW1) and carried by Jack Warner (born Horace John Waters) doing the continuity. Joan Winters (Charles Shadwell's daughter) was the usherette (Programmes, chocolate, cigarettes!) and Jack Warner's sisters, Elsie and Doris Waters, often appeared, a real family business.
I think Happidrome came later, with 'Enoch, Ramsbottom and Me', and then some other forces-based shows like 'Much Binding in the Marsh' (Air Force) - can't remember the navy based one - but the show that really caught on was ITMA - It's That Man Again' with Tommy Handley and 'Dis is Funf spieking', the German spy and Mrs. Mopp the Char trying to clean the offices with 'Can I do you now, sir?' We used to watch the Portsmouth Evening News to see if any of these artists were going to be at the Colisseum, because they were originally music hall performers.
Those were the days!
Ednamay
Don't forget the Diver!
Thanks, Rob and Francis.
Yes, 'don't forget the diver' was one and catch phrases were the 'in thing'.
Jack Warner in Garrison Theatre used 'Mind my bike!' and also his flirtation with the usherette (Charles Shadwell's daughter, another family link!) 'my little gel', and her line, in a posh voice 'Programmes, chocolate, cigarettes!'
'Blue pencil' became popular, from Jack Warner's 'letter from my bruvver Syd' where it represented the censor - not for vital information but for an expletive, such as 'the weather is blue pencil awful' or, better known, 'not blue pencil likely!'
Harry Hemsley was supposed to have three children, two who never spoke, and Horace who used to babble, and Hemsley's catch phrase was 'What's Horace say, Winnie?'
Stanley Holloway was also popular, not only for 'Albert, Albert, pick up thy musket' and 'Albert and the Lion' but also for 'The green eye of the little yellow god', which he was never allowed to finish because he was interrupted by two 'audience' in the stageside box, one of whom was Leslie Henson, who had his own spot but I don't remember it.
I wish I could remember more of them, but some are a little hazy!!
Edna
Dave Hutson
27-10-2009, 16:31
Don't forget the Crazy Gang Edna. I had the privilege of knowing them all when I was a kid, When I was a butcher's boy my guvnor's mum was their housekeeper in Brighton and the guvnor's used to pick them up off the last train every night after they finished at the Palace Theatre, Victoria. I went with him on several occasions and remember they were as funny off stage as on.
Then there was Charlie Chester - the Cheeky Chappie - his theatre was the Hippodrome in Brighton.
You conjure up many memories enjoyed by all - keep them coming.
Dave H
Francis Stanley
28-10-2009, 07:44
Edna your snippets about everyday things are great, my Mum and Dad used to talk about ITMA which they both loved, and when I first became a Navy Diver my Dad would always use that catch phrase when he saw me, so it sort of stuck with me. The only trouble is, if I use it now and then within my own family no one has a clue what I am on about and just give me that look that sort of says "Silly old B****r"!
Dave and Francis - glad you enjoy the bits and pieces!
Yes, I remember the Crazy Gang, but I don't remember seeing them in Portsmouth. They were on the BBC. Perhaps they were the forerunners of The Goons!
I am trying to remember the names of two men, one became quite famous, he played the harmonica and actually had music composed for him; the other played the saw - and disappeared into nowhere.
Leslie Hutchinson ('Hutch') was popular at the Coliseum, he played piano like a master and also sang haunting songs with a beautiful voice.
There was also a whistler, can't remember his name (his modern counterpart is Ronnie Ronalde) and his piece de resistance was Albert Ketelby's 'In a monastery garden'.
There was also Suzette Tarri with her Red sails in the sunset, but I can't remember her singing anything else, even though the usual 'turn' for all artists was two items
Something I do remember is Arthur Askey, skipping across stage singing "I'd like to be a busy busy bee, I'd be just as busy as a bee can be!" That must have been before he teamed up with Richard Murdoch.
My goodness, what a long time ago!!
Edna
Following on the earlier account of our theatre memories, there is 'the day'
When we went to the theatre, we put on our 'Sunday best' (although we only sat in the gods!) but this began to present problems as the war advanced, because clothes, material and wool were on coupons, and it cost seven coupons for a dress. - this was calculated on a basis of 3 1/2 yards to make a dress.
Children grow, don't they? After letting down the hem of a dress, what next? My mother was a good needlewoman and bought some ribbon (not on coupons) and put inserts in the skirt and bodice of my Sunday dress so it would last a bit longer.
Needless to say, my mother saw to it that I could use the sewing machine and, by the end of the war, I was making most of my own clothes. My mother wanted me to take up tailoring, but I had different ambitions!
Edna
Batstiger
29-10-2009, 12:28
Something I do remember is Arthur Askey, skipping across stage singing "I'd like to be a busy busy bee, I'd be just as busy as a bee can be!" That must have been before he teamed up with Richard Murdoch.
My goodness, what a long time ago!!
Edna
I haven't been following this thread and have only just come across it, most interesting.
I can't remember Arthur Askey being with Richard Murdoch but I certainly remember "Much binding in the marsh" with Kenneth Horne, Sam Costa, Dudley Davenport and of course Richard Murdoch.
There was an article about Hutch on the television a few months ago, most interesting. At one time he was having it away with Lady Mountbatten! He died more or less a pauper and Lord Mountbatten paid for his gravestone.
Funny old world isn't it?
Bob.
Something I do remember is Arthur Askey, skipping across stage singing "I'd like to be a busy busy bee, I'd be just as busy as a bee can be!" That must have been before he teamed up with Richard Murdoch.
My goodness, what a long time ago!!
Edna
I haven't been following this thread and have only just come across it, most interesting.
I can't remember Arthur Askey being with Richard Murdoch but I certainly remember "Much binding in the marsh" with Kenneth Horne, Sam Costa, Dudley Davenport and of course Richard Murdoch.
There was an article about Hutch on the television a few months ago, most interesting. At one time he was having it away with Lady Mountbatten! He died more or less a pauper and Lord Mountbatten paid for his gravestone.
Funny old world isn't it?
Bob.
Arthur Askey - the BBC had a programme which was supposed to be Arthur Askey and Richard Murdoch sharing a flat at the top of Broadcasting House !!
Each week he sang one of his silly songs, of course.
Talking of silly songs, there was also George Formby and his ukelele, leaning on a lampost or cleaning windows.
I don't know what Hutch's life was like in the theatre, but he was black and I can imagine him having difficulties finding lodgings; he never looked happy, as I noticed when I got his autograph (unfortunately, the book with all my theatre autographs was lost when my parents moved house).
Edna
George Formby, there's a name from the past, in the early days of the war my cousin & me used to go to an uncle of ours. He was the proud possessor of a gramaphone & a large collection of Formby records, we sat for hours listening to them, using a large number of brass needles.
I do remember seeing George Formby at the Coliseum, but I think he toured mostly in the midlands and north.
I also remember Tommy Trinder and his lopsided hat and funny stories and poems; he made a film called 'The Foreman went to France' and it was hilarious and I think, believe it or not, it is available on dvd as memorabilia.
Of course, there was always a really big audience for Max Miller (with lots of matelots). Whether he told it in the theatre, or whether I heard it later, I am not sure, but I think he told the (in)famous joke ......... as a ten-year-old I did not understand the implications .............
Another chappie who did not come south very often was Rob Wilton, another comedian who always wore his hat on one side and was (supposedly) half seas over. When he said, 'The day war broke out' the audience used to join in and say 'My wife said to me ...'
Who was it used to say 'Wottalottarot'? Anyone remember??
Edna
Talking to an elderly friend this weekend about this thread, we dreamed up some further names from the variety theatre, some she had seen, some I had seen, but we couldn't remember all their acts.
For instance, the Two Leslies, (Leslie Sarony and Leslie H ? ), Will Hay and the 'schoolboy', Hetty King in her evening suit, Stainless Stephen and his 'drivel', Wilson, Keppel and Betty, and then Vesta Tilley (I think), though my friend said Vesta Victoria - but I don't think she came to Portsmouth.
We also tried to remember the two men with trailing turbans who did 'The Sand Dance', but couldn't dredge it up.
Any offers??
Edna
Anyone who has spent time at Whale Island will probably remember the church of St. John the Baptist in Simpson Road - it was en route to the bus stop. It was not quite totally burned out by the fire bombs, like the Guildhall. The only bit not destroyed was the Lady Chapel in the South-east corner so the powers-that-be (in this case, Winchester College) had temporary walls erected to make the corner fit for use. We rescued enough chairs for the congregation and we continued to use it and it was left open for daily prayer (and occasionally passing matelots would drop in). It was restored after the war but, at some point (while I was away training) Winchester College sold it off to a developer. The church is still there, but has been converted into flats and their famous statue of St. John the Baptist is now in the Cathedral. And so the glory has departed.
Edna
I have come across some details of the "Make Do and Mend" home front campaign started in 1941 when clothes rationing was introduced. There were some interesting 'Dos' and 'Donts'.
Classes were started for the ladies to learn to sew, and Mrs Sew-and-Sew showed how to turn old clothes into new. Almost any material from blackout
cloth to blankets was used to make clothes.
Old pillowcases became shorts, old trousers became skirts and any bits and pieces became children's clothes.
No turnups on trousers or double-breasted jackets, wedding dresses made from parachute silk.
Knitting circles unpicked old woolies, remade into socks and jerseys for the troops. Old sheets boiled and made into bandages. I know in WW1 ladies spent hours washing and rolling up used bandages but I don't remember that in WW2. Rob T
Jonti -
Our house was very popular in the war because my mother and I (although only a young teenager) were the proud owners of a sewing machine and neighbours called in for help with dressmaking - bedspreads were also used for skirts or dresses.
We had a commitment from school; the school had been issued a very large parcel of wool, navy, dark red (maroon), grey and cream oiled wool. In our needlecraft lessons We were commissioned to knit oiled wool guernseys and seaboot stockings, navy sleeveless (or 3/4 sleeve) pullovers, gloves and mittens; then gloves, mittens, socks, scarves and balaclava helmets in both red and grey. Those of us who were good knitters were allowed to take our knitting home and in the evenings we sat and knitted and listened to the home service on the radio until after the 9 o'clock news, when all the neighbours went home. If the siren had not gone before 9, we were unlikely to hear it - unless there were a few 'lost' raiders straggling back home.
Bandages? No, I don't recall that, we couldn't spare the sheets for that because we couldn't buy any new ones (unless you were bombed out, then you had a special coupon ration to help you re-furnish). Our sheets were all turned sides-to-middle, trimmed and hemmed!
Edna
limeybiker
18-11-2009, 12:48
Did you know that pensioners were actually recalled in 1938, at the time of the Munich crisis? They were given a uniform allowance and sent home but told to hold themselves in readiness to report to their base IMMEDIATELY should war be declared.
We lived near Whale Island (Dad was a CPO in gunnery) so he actually reported on Monday 4th September, 1939. I think he was probably the first back and no-one knew what to do with him; later in the week they made him Chief of the Footbridge (!) to release the existing holder of the post for sea service!
As I was born 12th May 1940, I think my old man celebrated the outbreak of war by giving my mother one.
Hi Edna. My mother used to 'Turn the collars' of my school shirts to put off the evil day of buying new ones. Another memory. Rob T
Hi, Barry and Jonti,
Barry - I can sympathise - last night of shore leave before commission (?), another May birthday!!!
Johnti - yes, my mother turned my brother's shirt collars even before the war - given a choice of new shoes or new shirts (my father could mend shoes BUT growing feet need new ones!) She also cut off the sleeves at the elbow and deep hemmed to make respectable short-sleeved shirts, and she had knitted him long sleeved sweaters anyway - on which she removed the ribbed cuffs, picked up the stitches and knitted new cuffs downwards, as his arms grew longer.
But did you know it was possible (in the days of really long shirts) to cut from the tail to make a new collar??!!! That was my father's suggestion, which my mother carried out!!
Edna
John Odom
19-11-2009, 17:17
Most interesting memories. Here in the US we didn't have it anywhere as bad as you did in the UK. Mother sewed bandages. She would go to the Red Cross and get materials and then take them to neighbors who also had sewing machines, and a week later she would pick up the finished bandages and take them back and then get another sack of materials. She took a class to learn exactly how they wanted it done, and she trained the neighbor ladies. Ours was the only home in the area with no one in the military. Dad was too old, and we boys too young.
Our neighbours, who were new to sewing machines, did not get farther than letting down hems on dresses, although my mother tried to show them how to make small boy's trousers out of girls' skirts. We all knitted socks, to save the feet of our irreplaceable stockings.
When my mother showed me how to let down a dress, we started with broad ribbon (which was not on clothes coupons), if possible in a toning colour, and inserted it as a band about five inches above the hem, then did something similar to the sleeves but if the elbows were worn, the sleeves were cut short and bound with ribbon. Finally a v-shaped stripe was inserted back and front in the bodice to allow for 'feminine development' and, if necessary, a false belt inserted between bodice and skirt.
If we had the clothes coupons available, my mother bought me something for the Whitsun Bank Holiday - not a dress, but the 3 1/2 yards of material to make one!!!!! But we had to leave sufficient coupons for shoes, so usually my dresses were cut out from a pair of table cloths!!
After the war, I was allowed to take up my grammar school place and I earned my pocket money knitting in winter and dressmaking in summer!!!
Edna
Jackaroo
20-11-2009, 11:11
http://usera.ImageCave.com/Jackaroo1/2/Avatars/Keep%20Mum%20Shes%20not%20dumb.jpg
Hi Jackaroo
Wow!! I didn't see one of those during the war, perhaps they were only issued to service establishments??!!!!
Edna
Interesting poster. All the men are commissioned officers and perhaps more gullible to the lady's charms. Rob T
On another site, I got involved in a discussion about newly fashionable 'snoods'; during the war, with so many women in 'munitions', it was important to keep hair under control. Some firms issued turbans or caps, but when fabric became short, started issuing heavy-duty hairnets instead!
Women decided to take this over; we knitted or crocheted lacy squares (baseline half head measurement) with embroidery silks or anything which looked colourful, bright and cheery, gathered the sides up tightly and put fine elastic through the cast-on and cast-off edges and made decorative little 'hats' to keep hair tidy!!
There is a joke: with dishcloth string and large needles, we made enormous (well, 12 x 24 inches!) similar rectangles, folded into a square and sewed up the sides, put handles to and bottom to make a shopping bag for the groceries!!!
Well, you have to make the best of it, don't you???!!!
Edna
I have really enjoyed reading these posts, they remind me of the stories my mother used to tell when I was a kid. I can't remember many of them now but this one sticks in my mind.
My mother was living in London for the first couple of years of WW2 and lived through the Blitz. After one air raid she was alarmed to hear footsteps coming down stairs as she was alone at the time. They stopped outside the door of the room she was in. After a few moments, unable to bear the suspense any longer, she threw open the door but there was no one there. Looking down she saw what looked like a metal pineapple and, guessing that it was a bomb of some sort, found an ARP warden who told her it was an unexploded incendiary bomb and promptly dealt with it.
I never tired of hearing about it and often pestered her to tell more.
dennis a feary
25-12-2009, 07:03
Jackaroo, thats one that should be hanging in the Wardroom.
Two Ringer, nearly spilling his Whisky seems to be saying to the `Brylcreem Boy' and the `Red Tabed Pongo' ;
`I say chaps, she won't' - but EDNA MAY !!!!
Sadsac
Jackaroo, thats one that should be hanging in the Wardroom.
Two Ringer, nearly spilling his Whisky seems to be saying to the `Brylcreem Boy' and the `Red Tabed Pongo' ;
`I say chaps, she won't' - but EDNA MAY !!!!
Sadsac
Sadsac/Dennis
being a rather elderly lady, I would hesitate to tell you how many years ago I first heard that one !!!
Edna
dennis a feary
26-12-2009, 15:06
Yes, quite understand Edna - sorry to be so damned boring, but it was / is Christmas - that excuses a lot, I hope !!!!!
Sadsac
On another site, I got involved in a discussion about newly fashionable 'snoods'; during the war, with so many women in 'munitions', it was important to keep hair under control. Some firms issued turbans or caps, but when fabric became short, started issuing heavy-duty hairnets instead!
Women decided to take this over; we knitted or crocheted lacy squares (baseline half head measurement) with embroidery silks or anything which looked colourful, bright and cheery, gathered the sides up tightly and put fine elastic through the cast-on and cast-off edges and made decorative little 'hats' to keep hair tidy!!
There is a joke: with dishcloth string and large needles, we made enormous (well, 12 x 24 inches!) similar rectangles, folded into a square and sewed up the sides, put handles to and bottom to make a shopping bag for the groceries!!!
Well, you have to make the best of it, don't you???!!!
Edna
I remember the string bags used for shopping by my grandmother in the 1940s and 50s in Oz. There seemed no end to the amount of stuff you could fit into them but they were heavy and very hard on the fingers to carry. She was only a little lady but still could carry two or three at a time. Don't know how she managed it but it didn't seem to worry her.
Enjoying this thread very much. I think it is a good exercise, when you think things are tough today, to compare your problem to what these people were going through on a daily basis during the war.
Cheers
Bruce
Guz rating
26-12-2009, 18:28
Dennis you better get back to the wardroom before you get into anymore trouble.
The barsteward
Yes, quite understand Edna - sorry to be so damned boring, but it was / is Christmas - that excuses a lot, I hope !!!!!
Sadsac
No offence taken ! Only a funny: There are more variations, some much worse!!
Edna(maynot)!!!
PS My godson, very young then, hearing grandma say I was always energetic, christened me "Ennerjelly) till he was old enough to start school !!
Dave Hutson
27-12-2009, 19:51
Ednamay,
You fly like a breath of sunshine in this troubled world.
Every time I log on I find another story from your archives which takes me back to either my childhood or my early days in the Royal Navy. This coupled with the fact that you are a Pompey/Isle of Widget maid cement it for this Brighton boy.
The WWII stories are poignant and rekindle memories thought forgotten.
You must be a fountain of knowledge for your grandchildren and at times I wish I had grandkids to pass it to.
Long may your lang reek .... or to us Southerners ..... keep going.
Kind regards and best wishes to you and yours for 2010.
Dave H
Hi all,
Just thought I'd drop by with some more goodies which I found on another forum....and thought you lot may like to take a gander at. :)
They're WWII posters, (one of which is already on here, courtesy of Jackeroo.)
http://www.ww2incolor.com/forum/showthread.php?t=10105
Also, Edna....we'll look after Dennis, (aka to us as "Father Jack" :D...especially when he's had a bit too much whisky), in the Wardroom...if he gets too out of control.
Best Wishes to you all, posting here, for a Very Happy 2010.
Cheers,
Bee
[QUOTE=Bee;89506]Hi all,
Just thought I'd drop by with some more goodies which I found on another forum....and thought you lot may like to take a gander at. :)
They're WWII posters, (one of which is already on here, courtesy of Jackeroo.)
http://www.ww2incolor.com/forum/showthread.php?t=10105
Also, Edna....we'll look after Dennis, (aka to us as "Father Jack" :D...especially when he's had a bit too much whisky), in the Wardroom...if he gets too out of control.
Best Wishes to you all, posting here, for a Very Happy 2010.
Bee - thanks, what a fascinating thread !
We used to have poster competitions at school but drawing/painting was not my thing. I did, however (boast, boast!) win a prize for a doll !! these were for recruiting or amusement; most of my friends knitted airmen/women, a few knitted/sewed Jack Tars, I produced a gremlin !
I started with a black stocking, cut and stuffed to make body, head, legs and arms. I then found some soft rexine (like leather, my father used it to re-seat chairs), cut our a little jacket and lined it with the other stocking leg to make it baggy, like a flying jacket. More complicated, I made a helmet shaped over a tennis ball and lined, and put two enormous ears (Mr. Spock nicked my idea), and stitched white eyes, nose and mouth.
The top end of the stockings was used to make trousers, and the rest of the rexine to make boots - you have never seen such a horrible specimen in all your life ! But no-one else had thought amusement = gremlin, so I won the prize !
It would be nice to pass these funnies on to my grandchildren, unfortunately my son is in love with a BMW motorbike --------- My memories go to our U3A Reminiscence Group, once a month - useful contact for us oldies !!!
Happy New Year to one and all !
Edna
ceylon220
28-12-2009, 13:13
My wife told me one about her father, my father in law, a bomb was dropped near the air field by a returning German bomber,they did`nt do much damage as they landed in an open field but what the explosion did was crack the sitting room window at the house my wife and family occupied and this was 8 miles away from the dropping point,this was in 1943 and that pane of glass remained cracked until 1980-- father in laws excuse was that there had`nt been a descent sunny day to replace it!!!!!!!!!:D
We had 2 prisoner of war camps in our village, one for the German POWs, they lived in wooden huts in the village and the other was for the Italian POWs and they were situated under a disused railway bridge on the edge of the village and housed in tents, the Italians were allowed to work on the local farms and even visit the one pub in the village, the Germans were always heavily guarded and never allowed out side the compound.
Remember the Home Guard in the village training with pitchforks and an odd air rifle until they were given rifles taking turns guarding our one line railway station and the 2 rail bridges.
One local mate of mine got a banana,don`t know how he came by it (1945) but he shared it among his mates,each getting about an inch slice,most of us had`nt seen a banana let alone tasted one---those were the days, every thing on ration and could only be got with the old coupons---plenty of black market goings on around our village and no one bothered about it,everyone was involved even the local vicar and the local bobby was in it.
Bananas!!! They were invisible, whenever (if ever) they did arrive, you had to have a 'green book', meaning you were pregnant or had children under five! (Where did we get our nutritional potassium in those days?)
When I was 13 I had jaundice severely, could not eat, could not pass anything, lived on water, longed for a banana.
Our neighbour had two little boys under 5, they had never seen bananas and they screamed - THEY DID NOT LIKE BANANAS!!! So I had a large bunch! I was allowed one a day, mashed with sugar (till the ration ran out) - I still had difficulty swallowing, so then my mother mashed each banana with Ideal (canned) milk - to this day I cannot bear the smell of Ideal milk!!
Oh dear, I shall start to giggle!!!
Edna
Guz rating
30-12-2009, 14:50
The first time I saw an orange was 1946 I was seven and found orange peel on the street. I ran home and asked mother what it was, we then went to the greengrocers and his window was full of oranges. We bought a big bag of them, and I have loved them ever since. When I told my grand children they thought it was a great laugh.
Alan
steve roberts
30-12-2009, 16:21
I Vividely remember sweets coming off ration in 1954.As I was born in 1947 I was too young to rember much else,though I guess as I dont take Sugar I was raised with out it!!!
I Vividely remember sweets coming off ration in 1954.As I was born in 1947 I was too young to rember much else,though I guess as I dont take Sugar I was raised with out it!!!
I remember at our primary school prize giving ceremony, the guest of honour, Duncan Sands, was introduced as "the man who de-rationed sweets" to much cheering.
Those stories are just so amazing....I really don't think that people outside of Britain (and other areas where supplies where in scarce), had any real idea of what it was like to be so cut off from supplies taken for granted elsewhere. (Where rationing wasn't needed.) It makes me better understand why and how my (and my husband's) parents were so adept at making the best use of everything. Really, wartime Britain would be a good start for anyone wanting to get the very best out of recycling stuff. There was no such thing as "waste".
No wonder the people of that era were so creative.
Thankyou for sharing your tales.
Cheers,
Bee
p.s. Edna.....do you recall what some ladies used to use on their legs when they couldn't get stockings?....:) If not....I'll get a story that may amuse you all from my Mum.
John Odom
30-12-2009, 20:09
Here in the US we did not have near the privation that existed in Britain. Still we had rationing: sugar, meat, gasoline (petrol) tires and everything rubber, and a lot of other things.
While gasoline was rationed, Kerosene (paraffin) was not. There were numerous tricks used to run cars on Kerosene. One that worked pretty well was to bubble propane or butane (Liquefied petroleum gases) through the kerosene, increasing its volatility enough to work in a standard gasoline engine.
Anything made of copper or brass was unobtainable.
limeybiker
30-12-2009, 23:54
The first time I saw an orange was 1946 I was seven and found orange peel on the street. I ran home and asked mother what it was, we then went to the greengrocers and his window was full of oranges. We bought a big bag of them, and I have loved them ever since. When I told my grand children they thought it was a great laugh.
Alan
like you my first orange was around 1947, being born in 1940.
When I had our house built in 2000 here in Ocala Florida, I planted an orange tree and a lemon tree for my G & T's.
shown in the pics below.
Around 1945/6 the best presents in my Christmas stocking hung at the end of the bed was a banana and an orange. Seems ridiculous now but not then. Another treat, probably after the war had ended, was to 'look' at the 5/- peaches in the window of a shop inside Paddington Station when I was going back to boarding school. Rob T
Hello all, whilst I have my Mum sitting alongside me....I'll relate a couple of her tales...
Re: Foods in short supply (not necessarily rationed). Whilst working at a small shipping office (Convoys Limited, Old Hall St., Liverpool) Mum recalls that the office boys (who used to be "runners" between the various shipping offices...with the bills of lading etc.), used to report back when they had passed a shop selling...whatever was scarce...eg oranges, lemons, onions...etc. They'd mention that there was a queue up at such and such a shop....for ....whatever was going. Mum's boss then used to say...."Okay, two at a time." and let his workers take time out to go and join the queue. His name was Mr Skeffington and he was a good boss.
The other tale we promised you....was to do with ladies using a brown dye on their legs (to pretend they were wearing stockings....which of course were hard to get.) We think it was my Dad's youngest brother Bill (who being a bit of a lad), thought it would be fun to put some liquid gravy mix into his Mum's bottle of leg dye.
At the time, they had 2 pet dogs, and their poor Mum couldn't understand why the dogs were going mad...picking at her legs just as she was ready to go out.:eek: (It undid all her good work and she then had to wash it off.) I think the boys did 'fess up as they couldn't stop laughing.:rolleyes:
Cheers,
Bee
p.s. Mum's promised you all some more WWII stories later. :)...and yes, she is enjoying reading yours too.
dennis a feary
31-12-2009, 08:12
EDNA - `MAY' not - well that leaves a chap a little lee-way !! `Praps' !!
Barsteward, Would take myself off to the Wardroom, but no one there at the moment - all had too much imbibing over Xmas - SIGH, its hard to get good and lasting drinking mates these days - bring back the old slurpers, I say !!
Sadsac
Hello all, whilst I have my Mum sitting alongside me....I'll relate a couple of her tales...
Re: Foods in short supply (not necessarily rationed). Whilst working at a small shipping office (Convoys Limited, Old Hall St., Liverpool) Mum recalls that the office boys (who used to be "runners" between the various shipping offices...with the bills of lading etc.), used to report back when they had passed a shop selling...whatever was scarce...eg oranges, lemons, onions...etc. They'd mention that there was a queue up at such and such a shop....for ....whatever was going. Mum's boss then used to say...."Okay, two at a time." and let his workers take time out to go and join the queue. His name was Mr Skeffington and he was a good boss.
The other tale we promised you....was to do with ladies using a brown dye on their legs (to pretend they were wearing stockings....which of course were hard to get.) We think it was my Dad's youngest brother Bill (who being a bit of a lad), thought it would be fun to put some liquid gravy mix into his Mum's bottle of leg dye.
At the time, they had 2 pet dogs, and their poor Mum couldn't understand why the dogs were going mad...picking at her legs just as she was ready to go out.:eek: (It undid all her good work and she then had to wash it off.) I think the boys did 'fess up as they couldn't stop laughing.:rolleyes:
Cheers,
Bee
p.s. Mum's promised you all some more WWII stories later. :)...and yes, she is enjoying reading yours too.
Bee - girls used all sorts of things to make legs look like 'stockings'; one I heard of was Camp Coffee, also indian ink, and one (may be apocryphal!) was permanganate of potash !! The difficult thing was drawing the 'seam' line down the back of the leg - you had to have a 'best friend'
If you did have a scarce pair of stockings, you saved them for 'best', we all wore knitted ankle socks to keep our feet warm (I know the knitting pattern by heart to this day - I knitted a pair recently to wear in my boots!) We even wore them with stockings, to save wear and tear on the heels and toes!
About 1944 at my school we received some food parcels from the States; my family had one (including Spam and canned fruit, etc.) and I wrote and thanked the donor, a lady in Brooklyn who worked as a private nurse, and told her about my family and the war. She told me her daughter was waiting to go to college and had suggested she send me a magazine - she did, and there, inside, was my very first pair of nylons!!! We corresponded for some years, until she died.
Having been accustomed to lisle (cotton), art.silk and, if lucky, real silk stockings, I hardly dared to touch these cobweb nylons so I had to scour the chemists to find some hand cream (!) and take better care of my nails! Luckily, the knitting had helped because the lanoline in the wool had kept my hands reasonable, and my nails were short so as not to snag the wool. Oh, the joy, the first time I wore them out!!! Makes me feel young again!!
Edna.
Talking of socks and stockings reminds me of shoes.
We had a good snob (shoe repairer and leather man) near us in Portsmouth, but growing feet need new shoes, not repairs.
My mother was a great believer in 'sensible' shoes but I wanted a fashionable (!) pair. After lots of shoe shops (not many shoes - stock low) she finally agreed to a fairly fashionable pair, but only because they were not too expensive.
We discovered why when the weather broke - after the first rain, the soles laminated and I was left with thin layers of leather like brown paper! Taught me to be a bit more sensible/ Ouch!!!
Edna
limeybiker
03-01-2010, 17:43
Talking of socks and stockings reminds me of shoes.
We had a good snob (shoe repairer and leather man) near us in Portsmouth, but growing feet need new shoes, not repairs.
My mother was a great believer in 'sensible' shoes but I wanted a fashionable (!) pair. After lots of shoe shops (not many shoes - stock low) she finally agreed to a fairly fashionable pair, but only because they were not too expensive.
We discovered why when the weather broke - after the first rain, the soles laminated and I was left with thin layers of leather like brown paper! Taught me to be a bit more sensible/ Ouch!!!
Edna
Have you tried to find a good cobbler today, if you find one, they want more to repair than replace.
John Odom
03-01-2010, 23:33
Yes, but in many cases, the repaired shoes or boots will be better and made of better materials than any you can buy new.
This is the second tome I have encountered the word snob used in this sense. In America it has a very different meaning. In the previous encounter a British or Aussie POW who had been a snob before the war, was described as repairing shoes for the prisoners and boots and shoes for the Japanese.
John and Barry
Yes, we have a cobbler / snob in Newport (centre of Isle of Wight) and he does an extremely good job - even my son's biker boots! Pricey, but yes, better than new.
Unfortunately, modern shoes, especially women's shoes, are not designed to be repaired, part of the throwaway mentality. I still buy (reasonably) sensible shoes so they last for years and don't have to go for repair!!!
During the war we had the introduction of cork soles and wedge heels and the road has been downhill ever since!
Will we be born without legs and feet? (!!!) During the war, while evacuated to Elvetham in Hampshire, I used to walk a mile to school each day, even returning to Portsmouth I needed to walk a mile and a half (but easier going); my father and his brother, on the other hand, used to do a circular walk of about 8 miles from what is now Blackbushe Airport back to Hartford Bridge to monitor the mad pheasants (who used to forget where they had laid their eggs) BEFORE breakfast, and then walk a mile to school in Elvetham !!!
Perhaps we will be born with wheels instead ??? !!!
Edna
limeybiker
06-01-2010, 02:07
Yes, we have a cobbler / snob in Newport (centre of Isle of Wight) and he does an extremely good job - even my son's biker boots! Pricey, but yes, better than new.
The reason I need a good snob, my biker boots are getting thin and need a good non-skid sole and heel replacement,
Must schedule another visit to the UK.
John Odom
06-01-2010, 02:33
During the war, we had no car, because none were available and we were at war when we got home from the mission field. In any case there was little petrol so I walked 2 miles each way to school.
The main wartime answer to no cars, fewer buses, etc. was bicycles. Eventually, During evacuation, My mother and I shared a bike, two days a week she used it for shopping, three days a week I rode it to school - which could be an adventure, because the army in convoy from Aldershot used our road to get through Hartley Wintney (to those of you who know north Hampshire) to get to Hazeley Heath where they did some of their larger training activities.
It is no fun being passed by 15 heavy lorries, they have a backdraft (draught?) which is very unsettling. Luckily they usually travelled at a fairly steady pace (old lorries, newer / better ones were 'on the front line') but trouble did occur to me on one occasion when the 'tail end charlie', a long way behind the others, came round the bend behind me quite fast and the consequent gust of wind made my bike wobble and threw me up on to the shingle bank at the side of the road, waiting to be used to grit the road in the winter weather. Luckily I was on my way home.
After that experience, I usually pulled in to the hedge and waited for everyone to pass before cycling on.
Did I say Winter Weather?!!!
Edna
ceylon220
06-01-2010, 15:52
Around 1945/6 the best presents in my Christmas stocking hung at the end of the bed was a banana and an orange. Seems ridiculous now but not then. Another treat, probably after the war had ended, was to 'look' at the 5/- peaches in the window of a shop inside Paddington Station when I was going back to boarding school. Rob T
Jonti me lad, that brought memories back when we hung our biggest sock up at Christmas and finding an orange or an apple in it, today they hang pillow cases up and expect them to be filled, would`nt dare put an apple or orange in today, they would look at you and think you were barmy. I thought that I was lucky to get 1 toy soldier size around 2"in my sock,jigsaw,and maybe a few sweets which were on ration then.
Dave
ceylon220
06-01-2010, 16:02
Shoes---what were those, I had a pair of clogs with metal on the bottom which had to be re corkered nearly every fortnight as we were all trying to cause sparks by scraping them along the ground,then one time the old man bought me a pair of boots these lasted until some of my mates ran around bare footed in the summer so to be like them I left my boots against the wall while we played but they vanished when I went back to collect them----won`t print the reaction from the old fella, this was in 1944 when you had to have coupons to buy stuff so it was back to the clogs once again!!!!!
Bee - girls used all sorts of things to make legs look like 'stockings'; one I heard of was Camp Coffee, also indian ink, and one (may be apocryphal!) was permanganate of potash !! The difficult thing was drawing the 'seam' line down the back of the leg - you had to have a 'best friend'
If you did have a scarce pair of stockings, you saved them for 'best', we all wore knitted ankle socks to keep our feet warm (I know the knitting pattern by heart to this day - I knitted a pair recently to wear in my boots!) We even wore them with stockings, to save wear and tear on the heels and toes!
About 1944 at my school we received some food parcels from the States; my family had one (including Spam and canned fruit, etc.) and I wrote and thanked the donor, a lady in Brooklyn who worked as a private nurse, and told her about my family and the war. She told me her daughter was waiting to go to college and had suggested she send me a magazine - she did, and there, inside, was my very first pair of nylons!!! We corresponded for some years, until she died.
Having been accustomed to lisle (cotton), art.silk and, if lucky, real silk stockings, I hardly dared to touch these cobweb nylons so I had to scour the chemists to find some hand cream (!) and take better care of my nails! Luckily, the knitting had helped because the lanoline in the wool had kept my hands reasonable, and my nails were short so as not to snag the wool. Oh, the joy, the first time I wore them out!!! Makes me feel young again!!
Edna.
My mum said eyebrow pencils were very popular for "stocking lines" in Oz during the war.
Cheers
Bruce
Shoes---what were those, I had a pair of clogs with metal on the bottom which had to be re corkered nearly every fortnight as we were all trying to cause sparks by scraping them along the ground,then one time the old man bought me a pair of boots these lasted until some of my mates ran around bare footed in the summer so to be like them I left my boots against the wall while we played but they vanished when I went back to collect them----won`t print the reaction from the old fella, this was in 1944 when you had to have coupons to buy stuff so it was back to the clogs once again!!!!!
Here in the south clogs were unknown and I was shocked when I first saw them! Boots were the boys' wear, some heavier than others, but for girls it was always leather shoes or canvas sandals in the summer. I had seen tap dancing at the Coliseum, among the variety acts, but one group actually changed to clogs and did a clog dance! Nowadays we have a Cloggy Team of women/girls on the Island, competing with the 2/3 groups of Morris Men - and I didn't learn about Morris dancing until after the war.
A long way from my dancing days now!!
Edna
Was watching a programme on YESTERDAY about food and rationing in WW2 and it reminded me of two things (1) potatoes were wonderful, weren't restricted, like bread, until AFTER the war! and (2) suet pudding was a great filler! We had an understanding with our butcher, lots of his customers didn't like suet so we benefited!
Offal was great for some people; my mother was good with liver and kidneys and heart, but I couldn't bear chitterlings (my father loved them) and lungs (lights) were only for next-door's cat!!!
Edna
Francis Stanley
13-01-2010, 09:52
Jonti me lad, that brought memories back when we hung our biggest sock up at Christmas and finding an orange or an apple in it, .
Dave
A computer and a telephone wow you must have been rich! :D
A computer and a telephone wow you must have been rich! :D
Do you think that is a really 'punny' joke?!!
Edna
Is this a revamp of the "We were so poor", Monty Python Sketch?
Actually, QprDave, you can see where the Monty Python crew got their subject material from. Things were pretty grim and tough for those in the U.K. and as they were all "in the same boat" the best thing they had going for them to cope with the situation was their humour...and boy do the British do good comedy...at least they used to (hopefully they still do).
Cheers,
Bee :)
Ednamay your #164 rang bells. I used to queue up at the dog-meat shop for tripe to give to the dog. That experience put me off tripe for the rest of my natural. My Irish Grandfather whom we lived with in WW2 had a good rapport with the local butcher and managed to elicit some kind of offal from him on a regular basis. Offal wasn't included as meat ration in your ration book so offal was a real bonus. Rob T
Thanks, Jonti, for the reminder. We had a mincer and I think my mother used to add kidney when mincing the cold meat and half an onion, then add pastry for 'steak' and kidney pie!!!
There was another let-out. On Twyford Avenue, on the matelot's route to the bus stop, was a well-established pie shop. On the basis of his extensive sales, he said, he got a good allowance of meat for his steak and kidney pies - with puff pastry and gravy to dream about! The lads could often be seen at the bus stop, eating a pie, back to the traffic so as not to be seen by car-borne officers! Oh, the days that are gone!!
Edna
A bit of British humour from a newspaper:
Mrs. Irene Graham of Thorpe Avenue , Boscombe, delighted the audience with her reminiscence of the German prisoner of war who was sent each week to do her garden. He was repatriated at the end of 1945, she recalled. "He'd always seemed a nice friendly chap, but when the crocuses came up in the middle of our lawn in February 1946, they spelt out 'Heil Hitler.'"
( Bournemouth Evening Echo)
Cheers
Bruce:D:D:D:D
Bruce, I love it!!
I had no contact with German POWs but my friend from 'upcountry' said her uncle had two working on his farm, they knew their work and were very efficient, so were themselves probably country boys - happy to be out of the ruckus, no doubt!
Edna
4The Parade
22-02-2010, 12:46
Ednamay, I wasn't born till after the war but I remember those seaboot stockings, because that is what we used for Christmas stockings every year. They were huge and a sort of Aran wool colour,right?
Your memories of Portsmouth and Southsea ring lots of bells. I have photographs of me as a child playing on Southsea beach surrounded by wooden fortifications. They lasted forever -- for all I know there may still be some remains!
Elisabeth
Ednamay, I wasn't born till after the war but I remember those seaboot stockings, because that is what we used for Christmas stockings every year. They were huge and a sort of Aran wool colour,right?
Your memories of Portsmouth and Southsea ring lots of bells. I have photographs of me as a child playing on Southsea beach surrounded by wooden fortifications. They lasted forever -- for all I know there may still be some remains!
Elisabeth
Hello.
Yes, the seaboot stockings were of oiled wool, they were of cream-coloured Aran (Bainin - pronounced bawneen) and we later got to know it in Aran Sweaters.
We also had navy Aran, used for polo-necked sweaters for the submariners.
The Aran was often hard and heavy to knit up, but some of the oil worked its way into our hands and left them soft-skinned! In those days we had never heard of lanolin.
Southsea - there were groins on Southsea beach (may still be there) because the shingle used to wash down when tides were v. high and seas were /v. rough; made good wind shelters when picnicking!!
Edna
Almost a new thread - but not quite
I have been watching 'Blitz Street', a programme produced by Channel 4, looking at the mass destruction of civilian homes and the strange effects produced by the blast of the bombs - the bits that were not destroyed, for instance. They built a street with two facing rows of houses and bombed them to assess what happened.
Tony Robinson said that the majority of the population has no concept of what it was like to know every day, every night, that your home and family could be next. I remembered. He was talking about 1940, 70 years ago.
People have been shocked to see the devastation in Iraq and Afganistan. I hope they realise that that is total war, not just fighting personnel but civilians and families. Let us pray that we may all have compassion, and may we hope for conclusion and a happier future.
Edna
Yesterday I watched the latest edition of 'Blitz" and was reminded of the landmine that was dropped in the Crasswell Street area of Portsmouth, behind the Commercial Road shopping area, and cleared about six streets of tiny houses in one go, including the residents. Unlike the bombs, which went down and blew everything up, the landmine was apparently surface or shallow-based and created unbelievable blast. A very drastic beginning to urban renewal.
Edna
I missed last week's 'Blitz' but saw last night, Friday 8th; it was an examination of the famous Anderson shelter, its good points and bad points.
First of all, it had to be at least 3 feet into the soil; if this reached the water table, hard luck, it was constantly wet! On the other hand, it provided soil to cover the top of the shelter, and last night's programme showed that this, in fact, was the real benefit, both in terms of depth of soil to go over the shelter and also the shape, which contributed to the redirection of the wind and blast. It also showed that a shelter with the entrance facing a house was risked bounce-blast.
In the demonstration shelter, a table cloth had been lifted and stuck to the 'ceiling', and the scientist discussed the fact that the blast could be strong enough to lift a person, as was reported to have happened during the war, a statement that, at the time, was rubbished.
Let's hope we learn from these programmes the amount of destruction man can create, and let's hope we also learn not to let loose such power.
Edna
Mitch Hinde
14-07-2010, 18:43
I seem to recall that WW1 was the war to end all wars. Each generation seems to make the same mistakes and are incapable of learning from the previous ones.
On a lighter note. I have a German bomb to thank for being born a Yorkshireman. My Mum and Dad , Mum pregnant with me, were out for a walk one sunny afternoon in 1940 when there was a surprise air raid. On returning home they were informed that their house no longer existed. Mum was rapidly despatched back home to her parents in Leeds where I was born in December of that year, otherwise I would be a Pomponian like my Dad.
Mitch
Mitch, welcome! Did your parents pass on any other memories of their war? I was offered a permanent school place in Hampshire, but returned to Portsmouth and the Senior Elementary - then on to Grammar School as a 'late entry' in 1945, part of a group whose education had been handicapped by evacuation and other movements during the war - so I remained a Pomponian!
Edna
Mitch Hinde
15-07-2010, 15:52
Hi Edna
My Mum took us back to Pompey during the war as my Dad was a dockyard copper and couldn't move north. I have vague memories of the bombing and my grandmas house in Wainscott Road. Used to holiday in Southsea with my Uncle Cyril for many years after the war and well remember the taste of the custard in the British Restaurant there.
My other Uncle Jack (good name for an ex matelot) used to run the Unicorn pub outside Unicorn Gate for a while after his demob. Sadly both died some while ago.
Visited Pompey some time ago while working for South West Trains and was appalled by what they have done to the area in front of and around the Guildhall, turned it into a concrete wasteland. I well remeber Verrechias ice cream parlour, is that how you spell it?
Mitch
Mitch, the memories! British Restaurants, all round Portsmouth! There was one in Twyford Avenue which was eventually rebuilt/replaced to become a Community Centre, with a grant from US in appreciation for looking after American sailors during the war.
The Unicorn was my father's favourite pub, so close to the Unicorn Gate. I think the family then was Frith, does that ring a bell? Or were they further along Unicorn Road?
And Verrecchias! I used to go to evening classes at the College behind the Guildhall and we students used to foregather there when classes closed for heavenly Italian coffee and ice-cream!!! Never tasted anything like it. Oh, the days of youth!!
Edna
Mitch Hinde
16-07-2010, 20:58
Hi Edna
My Uncle Jack was Jack Thompson when he had the Unicorn. That would be in the mid 50's or thereabouts. If I remember rightly, on the other side of the railway bridge from Verrechias was a greasy spoon called "Pete's Place".
We always used to go into the little zoo behind Verrichias and sit under the trees to eat out ice creams and watch the animals. I must have been about 13 or 14 then. Signed on in the Navy in 58.
Mitch
Did you mean the Victoria Park birdlife pens? There were jackdaws along the paths, who used to 'dance' for a titbit, also a dovecote and doves all around, and there were beautiful peacocks in the pens. I can't be sure, but I believe there were also ducks.
I used to work in an office on the edge of Victoria Park, next to the old swimming pool, in Anglesea Road, which ran from the Officers' Quarters opposite the barracks along to St. Michael's Presbyterian Church.
Edna
TACKLINE
17-07-2010, 21:43
My ship was based at Pompey for the Normandy campaign,and I have some great memories of Saturday nights spent dancing at the South Parade pier. There were two dances going on at the same time,and you could go from one to the other,just dance into the other ballroom. I seem to remember there was another dance hall in Southsea where you went up some stairs,but my memory is vague on that. Great way to meet the local talent.
I remember a pub halfway between Portsmouth and Southsea on the right,(can't remember the name) but was a favourite with Matelos. Some great nights there too especially when the piano was in full flow. I think Pompey Lil used to go in there too!!
Sometimes for a change,when we had a seven beller,we'd catch a train to Brighton,book a bed at the YMCA,and have a night dancing at the Dome with the local talent. :)
Yes, there were two ballrooms on South Parade Pier, and another one at the Savoy, across the road (with a sprung maple floor). Clarence Pier also had a ballroom, at the other end of the sea front, and the Rock Garden Pavilion but that one was less used.
Across the common, one or two hotels had private ballrooms, for residents but the really popular place was Kimbell's Cafe, which was actually a restaurant, in Osborne Road, Southsea, near the Southsea Shopping Centre.
There were also ballrooms in Commercial Road (over the shops - until bombed), Fratton and North End - signs of a mis-spent youth??!!
Edna
Hello Ednamay,
A fascinating thread for those with memories of the WW2 period although most still with us were children at the time, I know the south took a hammering, Pompey-Guzz etc and Plymouth was still scarred when I joined in '52.
During the conflict I lived at a point of embarkation for the troops and equipment so that received some interest from the foe. Lots of nights in the Anderson, good fun for the young but not in winter.
One thing I recall was school hours being varied as it was popular with the Luftwaffe to practice machinegun fire on the kids going to school. We only spent half day at school, one week mornings and the next afternoons,
I had a map of Europe on my wall with all the flags showing the position of the armies. Yes, in '52 when I joined sweet rationing was still applied and the meals at HMS Raleigh were enough but no Oliver Twists. The NAAFI was great though and the experience was really something following a world recession and WW2.
It was wonderful during the war how people ( not all ) helped each other and it is unfortunate that the 'Spirit' is no longer with us. One other thing I remember was a Gosport family evacuated to where I lived while 'we' were evacuated to the 'hills'. 'They'were dangerous times although as kids the full danger was not understood. On one occasion I stood outside watching a raid as the place was bombed and 'our boys' at 'em.
Yes , Mickey Mouse respirators and a little tin helmet all part of the fun, running for cover with the 'warning' and relief with the 'all clear'. Watching the 'search-lights at night , the barrage balloons and collecting shrapnel in the morning. The good old days?
For those not familiar with the WW2 gas-masks , a grim reminder. 'They' were still in use at HMS Raleigh when I joined in 1952 although not the Mickey Mouse model
WWII MICKY MOUSE GAS MASK (RESPIRATOR)
"Child's Gas Mask given to the public as a loan by the Government during WW2.Made to resemble the cartoon character 'Mickey Mouse' and coloured red and blue to try and entice children into wearing them".
http://www.museumoftechnology.org.uk/militaria.php?cab=gas_masks
deejay - I remember the school wallmaps and placing coloured pins on them after the day’s news. I also remember the half-day schooling, because so many teachers had been sent with the evacuated children.
I am also glad that you mentioned the Luftwaffe machine-gunning children going to / at school. This happened to me in Petersfield, where my mother and I were evacuated, but it has always been pooh-poohed, despite the fact that the boys picked up shells from the playground.
And gasmasks; when I was evacuated to Elvetham, our very conscientious Scottish teacher (Mrs. Anderson,) made us put on our gasmasks every Thursday morning for a walk up the drive to the village/estate church, We were exhausted by the effort of breathing by the time we got there, so we were allowed to take them off and have a rest period, especially for the tinies. Then we had to pack them back in their boxes (being very particular so as not to crack the formica) and walk back breathing the fresh air - and no smell of rubber!
Sixty years ago! My word!!
Edna
Relieved to hear I wasn't having a senior moment Edna with the Luftwaffe although that was nearer seventy years ago for me, I was eight. The explosive toys (pens ? ) too. I didn't see one but 'we' were warned mot to pick interesting looking things up.
Amazing what 'we' are capable of doing to each other when at war and I'm sure nobody was free of something or other we would now be horrified at. The war was a time when folk looked after each other though with the old cuppa in times of stress.
The 'black-out' was awesome and all the windows taped to prevent shattering. Small luminous badges so we could see each other in the pitch black darkness.
After the war to see tropical fruit was something such as a banana not seen for six or so years. Food,clothing, petrol and the lights on again , an incredible experience indeed one I would not like to repeat.
Bananas! I longed for a banana; when there came a consignment, it was restricted to 'green books' - i.e., pregnant women and children under five. I didn't qualify.
Our neighbour had two under fives, and I used to baby-sit. She gave them half a banana each and they spat it out!! I was not helping her then because I had jaundice and could not eat/swallow, so she passed her double ration on to me and I had mashed banana with Ideal milk ad infinitum (or until the ration ran out!), to get up my strength.
Oranges I was not so keen on, nor the orange juice that was issued. Cod liver oil made me sick - my mother tried to combine it with orange juice to help it down, and learned the hard way!
Never heard of kiwi fruit and things like that.
Edna
MelQuick
20-07-2010, 12:34
I used to like the orange juice. It was the egg powder that I couldn't stand - I think Portland Blue Circle were involved in the contract to supply it.
Mel
Mel - the tip with dried egg was to whisk it, then quickly add a half-teaspoon of bicarbonate of soda (or baking power, instead, if available, then fry it!!
Same went for using it to bake cakes; egg usually helps the cake mix rise, dried egg didn't, so my mother added a teaspoonful of baking power and pouff! Cake rose as required!!
Edna
MelQuick
21-07-2010, 14:47
Mel - the tip with dried egg was to whisk it, then quickly add a half-teaspoon of bicarbonate of soda (or baking power, instead, if available, then fry it!!
Same went for using it to bake cakes; egg usually helps the cake mix rise, dried egg didn't, so my mother added a teaspoonful of baking power and pouff! Cake rose as required!!
Edna
I'll take your word for it - I'm not a good cook - cordon green!
Mel
I have spent over an hour reading the tales from WW2 and enjoyed the trip back in time.
You will find many things that have been mentioned such as the gasmask, that held a baby, that had to be pumped on my WW2 website here where you can see a photo of one.
http://www.memorylanehf.oddquine.co.uk/
I had SO many folks coming to me about those years I wrote a book about the first 20 years of my life and all the proceeds went to my local Rainbows Childrens Hospice.
I was born in 1930 and I spent the first 7 years of my life in a Sisters of Mercy home where I was physically and mentally abused. I was finally reunited with my family in 1937. My full book explains the reason why I was placed in the home.
Here is one tale from the book.
During the summer of 1939 I was hearing talk of a nasty man called Adolf Hitler. It was snatches of conversation that I heard when the grown-ups were talking together and I had been told to go and play in the passage ( a long narrow hallway in the house ).
Children were being sent away from their parents to safety areas, whatever they were.
It seemed very strange to me that as soon as I got to know someone as a friend they were sent off to the country. Houses were being issued with funny corrugated shapes that were called Anderson air-raid shelters that had to be put in a hole that was dug out in the back garden, if you had one.
Gasmasks were issued and everyone had an identity card.
We had practised at school with our gasmask’s for ten minutes every day and were told if the air-raid siren went off to get under our desks.
This poem tells of the times we had to practise putting the masks on………………….
Everyone had an identity card and a gas mask too
Nasty horrible things to wear, stuck to you like glue.
It was a daily ritual to practice wearing that gas mask
None of us liked doing it because it really was a task
Teacher would then come round to see if it fitted snug
Pulling at the head strap she would give it quite a tug.
I wouldn't mind but it was supposed to keep us alive,
But how if we had to wear it long would we all survive?
I was glad when we finally stopped that daily routine
But we still had to carry it no matter where we'd been.
We were never parted from it even when visiting the loo
But as soon as the war ended they disappeared from view
copyright---Maisie Walker 2005--- all copyrights reserved.
September 3rd 1939 was a lovely sunny Sunday morning and to me there seemed to be a hush over everything. At 11am it came over the relay wireless that Mr Chamberlain had said we were now in a state of war with Germany. I can still hear my mothers anguished voice saying " Oh sweet mother of mercy! My boys, my boys."
The hush from outside suddenly became a cacophony of voices. All the neighbours gathered on their doorsteps talking about what would happen if old Hitler got to England. I felt terrified in case I was sent back to the Sisters of Mercy home.
I was relieved when my mother said that Hitler or no bleeding Hitler she was still going hop-picking the next day and taking her kids with her.
It was a well known thing for Londoners to go for about three weeks hop-picking every year. They classed it as a working holiday that got them away from the London smog and they could see a bit of green countryside.
It was during the third week that we were there when a German plane got through our defences ( such as they were).
He spotted us working and decided to use us as target practise. We all dived into the hop-vines for cover and Thank God there were no casualties because one of our fighters came along and a terrific dog fight was going on above us when the Spitfire shot the Jerry down.
We were all excited when we saw him bail out of his plane because it was on fire and came floating down in to the adjoining field.
Everyone left what they were doing and ran to the next field armed with whatever they could find to clobber the pilot with. He was still extricating himself out of his parachute so he had no chance to run anywhere.
It was a phoney war up until the June 1940. Everything was still going on as usual apart from railings and various other things like old pots and pans being given up for the war effort. We still had to take our gasmask’s every where we went but up to that time it was like the sword of Damocles waiting to strike. Posters were put up saying "Careless talk cost lives". There was the blackout to contend with and things were beginning to get in short supply.
It was after Dunkirk when the bombing started in earnest and it got steadily worse as the days turned into months. It was a nightly ritual to get the flask of tea, blankets, candle and sandwiches ready to take down the Anderson shelter which incidentally was always swimming in six inches of water.
We could tell by the sound of the engines of the planes whether they were friend or foe.
One night stands out in my memory so vividly that I can still hear the screaming bombs and the Anderson rattling as the bombs reigned down on us. It was the night that hundreds of German bombers droned over dropping bombs to set all the docks afire. To say it was horrific would be putting it mildly. The scene that met us the next morning when we finally saw the light of day was horrendous. We felt as though we were standing in the middle of Hell. Fires were raging all round us and I could see bodies smouldering among the rubble of houses. The smell was putrid and we could only cope by putting something round our faces to try and filter the smoke and smell of burning flesh away.
The top part of our house had been completely demolished and yet my mothers beautiful ebony piano was still intact under the blankets that she had covered over it.
Even at the tender age of nearly 10 years I wondered WHY the God that my mother was always praying to had taken our neighbours lives but left a piano.?
Believe it or not, to have a piano in those days was a status symbol.
Similar to a Rolls Royce car in the drive today.
That night has been etched in my mind ever since. If it had not been for our heroic R.A.F we would not be here today to tell the tale.
We spent most of our time down the shelter after that. There was a public house across the road from us named the Hop-pole and the piano found shelter down in the cellar until we found a safe place for it. It was well used by any who were partaking of the dregs from the beer barrels when raids were on. Especially singing songs relating to what they would do to Hitler.
Christmas Day 1940 was a stark time but it was quiet from the bombs for once and we were living in the shelter by his time because our house had gone.
I wrote the following poem about that particular Christmas Day and it depicts the fierce community spirit that everyone felt at that time.
A CHRISTMAS DAY MEMORY.
I sit and ponder about a certain Christmas Day many years ago
I remember very plainly of having no home and no place to go.
The year was nineteen forty in the middle of the London Blitz
Jerry pounding us with bombs, he tried hard to break the Brits
We finished up in our air-raid shelter to keep us from the cold
Listening to the bombs dropping down as hell began to unfold.
Christmas was fast approaching but no presents were in sight
It was dangerous for Santa to travel in the war stricken night.
At least that was what I was told by my fourteen-year-old brother!
No stocking put up for a Christmas, just comforting each other.
Christmas Day dawned and the firemen were so tired and weary
This did not deter them, they battled on as they remained cheery.
Along came a water cart at last to get water for a cup of Rosie Lee
How would the British survive without their cup of cheering tea?
We managed to have a quick wash to greet that Christmas morning
In case we were bombed again and had to heed the air-raid warning.
But it remained quiet, a deathly hush that seemed to envelop us all
A Christmas Day that remained in my memory that I can well recall.
It was like sitting on the edge of a volcano just waiting for it to erupt
Suddenly the sound of voices was heard the silence it did interrupt.
A radio was playing and the choristers were singing a rousing song
Many joined in the chorus as the voices made us all feel strong.
For those who have never witnessed a moving scene such as this
I thank the Lord! It was something that I would not have missed
I have never had that feeling of awe since that fateful day long ago
A kindred spirit amid a city razed that brought forth a certain glow
Of pride and joy that existed for a short time as we all started to sing
A song called “Santa Claus is coming to town” with voices in full swing
Its well over 70 yrs since that awesome day, I give thanks I am still alive
I very often wonder how through all that hell we managed to survive.
I hope and pray it will never happen again to any future generations
And may everyone be thankful as they enjoy their happy celebrations.
copyright---Maisie Walker ----all rights reserved.
Just after Christmas the Germans came back to give us another pounding.
My mother was by this time fed up with trying to keep what bits we had left together and we moved to number 168 further along the street that had a factory built nearby.
We started using the factory cellar to stay in during the night raids. This house too was bombed so we were once again with no home.
In the February 1941 my mother decided to go to the authorities to see if she could be evacuated with her children. My eldest brother was already in the airforce. He was called up as soon as the war started. My sister was too old at 17 to be evacuated so she stopped with my dad but my other brother who was 14 years old and my mother and myself were told to be at the school by a certain time to board the bus.
We arrived at the appointed school with our gasmasks and tickets tied to our coats. Even the mothers had a ticket pinned to them. After a nightmare journey through London in a bus during a daylight raid we got to the station.
We were then herded on to it, like cattle by a bossy woman who kept shoving us into line.
I was rather worried about this because my mother had a very short fuse and I was edgy in case she shoved the woman back.
I was relieved, apprehensive and excited when we finally pulled out of the station heading for an unknown destination.
We had been on the train for about half-an-hour when a Jerry plane spotted us and used us as target practice.
Once again we came under machine gun bullets. It was a work of art for all of us to try and get down on the floor of the train because it was packed out with evacuees plus pregnant women who were being evacuated.
With a bit of luck we were coming up to a long tunnel and the train pulled to a halt to give the Jerry time to scarper.
As we pulled out again we could see that a Spitfire had come to our rescue and let the Jerry have full blast of his machine guns which resulted in the Jerry plane spiralling down to earth taking the pilot with it. The vociferous cheer that shook the train gave vent to all our fears.
We arrived in Loughborough at the Central Station at 7-30 in the evening.
We all had to walk to the Y.W.C.A. but fortunately the moon was shining that night and it helped us to fumble our way through strange territory in the blackout.
When we got to the Y.W.C.A. we were given a potted meat sandwich that was curled up at the edges and a black cup of tea but to us with being so hungry, dirty and tired it was like a four course meal.
I can recall someone saying that he was so hungry he could eat a " horse between two bread carts". I have never forgotten the giggle that went round our tired war weary group at that remark.
When we were finally sorted out at the Y.W.C.A, we were sent with an official who was going round knocking on folk’s doors to see if they could accommodate us. These people must have had their names and addresses put forward at some time or another to say they would take in evacuees. I was a young child of nearly 11 years by then and even I felt degraded having to do this.
My mother must have felt worse because she had never asked anything of anyone.
We were told that everything was organised but I would have said that it was organised chaos.
My mother and myself finally got taken in by a lovely couple from Liverpool and my brother was taken in very reluctantly by a person round the corner.
Thanks Maisie, a treasure trove of memories indeed, It uncovered many hidden things in my memory banks such the reality of rationing giving an appreciation of what 'we' have today. Although I haven't read the entire site your letter is a great apéritif for what I am sure will be a sumptuous literary banquet of your WW2 experiences as a child.
I hope it is possible to print and publish if not already done. As in your guest-book, a work of heart
.
Thanks again and well done
Deejay
Many thanks Deejay.
I had SO many folks coming to me from worldwide about my book I decided to have it put on my poetry site, which is also on the same website that I have put on my previous posting.
My website must have also been spotted by TV because I was contacted by them last year and was on their programme about evacuees.
MelQuick
22-07-2010, 06:15
I was five years old when the war ended but I clearly remember the street party that was held to celebrate VE Day. We lived in Shearer Road, in Portsmouth. The houses opposite us had been destroyed by bombing, in the earlier part of the war, but the street was an ideal setting for the party, the first party I had ever attended.
The tables stretched almost the entire length of the street. It was the first time I'd ever seen a balloon. I was given an orange one and when, inevitably, it burst, I also burst - into tears.
Mel
That's another feature of bygone days, the street party. The entire street lined with tables and always someone brought out the family piano. Give the kids a good time and then a sing-song. Amazing the hidden talent with some beautiful voices and great old songs.
With your work Maisie I hope it is/can be 'saved' somewhere in book form as the ebooks, although a valuable form of recording, paper is still the best imo. No work of fiction can compete with the reality of such times as WW2 when expressed so well.
Many thanks DJ.
I am glad you have enjoyed my website.
Believe it or not I have a childs teaset that survived the London Blitz.
I have a photo of it somewhere and I will put it on here.
My lovely d-i-l has it now in her unit.
Its taken pride of place and is a talking point with all her visitors. :)
Francis Stanley
22-07-2010, 08:46
Maisie
Thanks for posting your memories
Many thanks Francis.
Its been a wonderful time since I first had a computer with SO many folks from worldwide contacting me.
Teachers and students too and I am proud to think that I have helped two of the students get their cap and gown.
I have also been to schools in the past to talk to the children.
Getting too old now and family wont let me go out on my own because I am waiting to have a pacemaker fitted after three blackouts. :)
Maisie,
Thanks very much for joining the gang on WW2 memories. We have all contributed our two penn'orth and it is good to have another voice. We all had different experiences and different memories, coming from different parts of the country, but we can all share this and remember the good with the bad, the wonderful community spirit and the feeling that we could achieve anything we set our mind to do.
And while all these things were happening around the country, families were still worrying about and praying for their fathers, brothers, and others in the uniformed services. Yet we survived all this uncertainty, and even the period of depression after the war and the continuation of scarcity and rationing. Perhaps we grew the stronger for those experiences? Let's hope there is no repeat performance.
Edna
Thankyou for inviting me to your WW2 memory corner Edna May. :)
I too hope nothing like that happens ever again. I would not wish that living hell on anyone.
alanandbren
22-07-2010, 11:17
I was five years old when the war ended but I clearly remember the street party that was held to celebrate VE Day. We lived in Shearer Road, in Portsmouth. The houses opposite us had been destroyed by bombing, in the earlier part of the war, but the street was an ideal setting for the party, the first party I had ever attended.
The tables stretched almost the entire length of the street. It was the first time I'd ever seen a balloon. I was given an orange one and when, inevitably, it burst, I also burst - into tears.
Mel
I also remember VE day, as the first time I tasted jelly, it came in a waxed kind of mould. the pavements and gutters were covered with those small lapel union jacks [ union flags] to be correct. It's a long time ago now but it still seems like yesterday, why do we still wish for the old times with such sentiment I wonder, I certainly do.
It was the friendship and the camaraderie; we were not afraid of our fellow man (or woman) - even in the blackout. People helped each other, and the VE Day parties showed the spirit of sharing, everyone had saved up ‘a little something’ for the day, the jellies, the cakes, etc
That is the spirit we really need.
Edna
My family have said that this teaset below will stay in the family for as long as there is someone who wants it. I know my granddaughter wants to keep it so I am hoping it will be passed on to any children she may have in years to come.
My eldest brother who was about 10 at the time I was born in 1930 bought it for me out of the pennies he earned while doing odd jobs for folk. It was purchased the week I was born from East Lane market in London for 3d or threepence as it was known then. Equivalent to just over 2 and a half pence in todays currency.
I never played with it for nearly 7 years while I was in the Sisters of Mercy home.
My parents were TOO poor to pay for the doctor because I caught double pneumonia at the age of six months so I was put in the home for that reason.
These so called Sisters of Mercy were anything but merciful I am afraid and I was mentally and physically abused while with them . NOT sexually abused Thank God but it was bad enough to make me despise all those who wear a nuns habit.
I made up for it though when I finally went home in 1937.
I played with the teaset every day and it even went all through the London Blitz. Plus it was taken down tube shelters or in the Anderson and wonder of wonders it just had the teapot spout broken plus a cup.
The cup was repaired with glue.
Ironic and extremely sad that it should still be here when you think of all the lives lost at that time.
During the Blitz, over 2 million houses (60% of which were in London ) were destroyed and 60,000 civilians were killed with 87,000 seriously injured. Of those killed the majority lived in London .
Until halfway through the war more women and children in Britain had been killed than soldiers.
It now has pride of place in my daughter-in-laws glass unit and she brought it out to take a photograph of it on my birthday last year for my album.
It is now over 80 years of age.
http://img130.imageshack.us/img130/6931/croppedkx0.jpg (http://imageshack.us)
steve roberts
22-07-2010, 12:15
Hi Maywalk.What s beautiful and sentimental thing to have.And whats more,someone else in your family realises the sentimental value of it,and really wants to keep it to pass on to another generation.A lot of what I had of sentimental value was destroyed some years ago in a house fire.Insurance can repay,but never replace.Long may your memento continue to pass down the family line.
Many Many Regards Steve.
Many thanks Steve.
I have another couple of mementoes from WW2 and I will put a photo of them on here when I get a minute.
Both have a story behind them. :)
alanandbren
22-07-2010, 12:57
Hi Maywalk, look forward to them.
regards Alan
Thanks Alanandbren,
I will go and find them and put them on here. :)
That's another feature of bygone days, the street party. The entire street lined with tables and always someone brought out the family piano. Give the kids a good time and then a sing-song. Amazing the hidden talent with some beautiful voices and great old songs.
I remember an end of war street party, with its bunting and long tables. (Where did they get them from?) There was a large effigy of Hitler which stood at one end while every one was eating and then burned in a large bonfire afterwards.
The attached photograph is not of the one I remember, but one a relative attended.
82706
alanandbren
22-07-2010, 17:33
Great photo Bill,most of the guests look as though we had lost the war instead of the other way round. I think that's the problem with posed photo's, nobody comes out as their selves. Still I'm sure they all had a good time.
This is a true tale about a Halifax Bomber that had been on quite a few raids during WW2.
After the war these planes were put to service by helping to train glider pilots.
During 1947 the circular engined Hailfax was sent to North Luffenham airfield where my hubby used to be a fitter on the engines.
The Halifax Bomber was a replacement sent to teach Glider Pilots.
Before it was accepted it had to go on a test flight to make sure that it was safe to tow the gliders.
On its first test flight it crashed through a fault in the control column.
It turned right over on to its back and crashed in a ploughed field at the end of the drome.
There was one big cloud of dust that scared the living daylights out of the ground crew.
My hubby said everyone was terrified of what they would find but the pilot, engineer and the radio operator all climbed out dusting themselves down and getting the dust out of their eyes.
Everyone was relieved and pleased to see all three climb out unhurt but to this day my hubby says he will never know how they got out alive.
My hubby was NOT one of those that had serviced this aircraft but there was a big enquiry as to what happened.
From what he could gather a bolt at the bottom of the control column had snapped.
Hubby said out of the Halifax and the Lancaster he preferred the Halifax because you could walk down the middle of it but with the Lancaster you had to crawl on your hands and knees to service them.
After his stint at North Luffenham my hubby was sent to Cottesmore to work on Mosquitoes.
He also worked on the first Meteor.
Hubby said he enjoyed his time in the National Service and only wished it was brought back again to straighten some of the yobs out of today.
Out of the wreck of the Halifax my hubby had a piece of perspex that was from the windscreen and he made this brooch for me below.
Its now nearly 62 years since he first gave it to me.
If only this bit of perspex could speak it would tell of many bombing missions it went on during WW2.
http://i32.tinypic.com/i5sv1d.jpg
Thanks Bill a great photo and one that would have been taken in thousands of streets throughout UK on 'that' day. Bonfires and street lights an amazing experience for those born in the blackout period 'We', the street, had a piano but not many, if any, had a camera. Probably lots of such pictures tucked away perhaps to be discovered eventually.
Thank you too Maisie your photo was a reminder as well. I recall picking up the pieces of shrapnel and also the perspex and for some reason many made it into crosses, I'm sure others were more creative as with yours and how much more meaning and value than the expensive jewellery of today and "If only this bit of perspex could speak it would tell of many bombing missions it went on during WW2"
MelQuick
23-07-2010, 05:01
I remember an end of war street party, with its bunting and long tables. (Where did they get them from?) There was a large effigy of Hitler which stood at one end while every one was eating and then burned in a large bonfire afterwards.
The attached photograph is not of the one I remember, but one a relative attended.
82706
Bill
Great photo! it looks almost exactly like the street party we had in Portsmouth.
Mel
Blue
My father used to be a stevedore and he came home one night in May of 1940 during WW2 with a beautiful blue persian kitten that he had found abandoned in the hold of the ship. Its mother may have been killed in a bombing raid but whatever had happened my father wasn't going to leave it.
My mother had an instant bond with that kitten and Blue as we named him was my mothers shadow.
He grew into a beautiful blue persian and was extremely proud of his tail and thick coat. He spent many hours cleaning himself.
When the blitz started and well before the siren wailed out its warning he used to stand clawing at the side of the door. It was his way of warning us that he could hear enemy war planes in the distance. Uncanny but perfectly true.
It gave us time to get our belongings together and get down the Anderson shelter.
Blue had been hit by shrapnel about three times but my mother nursed him back to life each time and she always shared her food with him although we were rationed.
As time went on we were evacuated to a town in the Midlands.
Blue had to stay behind with my father and sister until we got a place of our own in this new town that we had gone to live in for safety. When we did finally get a house my dad and sister brought Blue to live with us.
It was then that my father told us that Blue had saved his and my sister's life because a direct hit bombed what was left of the house and it buried my father and sister alive.
They were trapped for 48 hours but Blue wriggled away from them and somehow found a way through all the bricks and mortar that lay on top of the Anderson shelter and his continuous meowing and clawing at the debris finally brought the firemen to the spot where dad and my sister were still trapped.
We never knew anything about this until Blue was in my mothers arms. We we SO proud of him and he was over the moon to be back with his beloved mistress, my mother. His purring was so loud it sounded as though he was singing to himself.
Our joy at Blue being with us once again lasted for two weeks because the neighbour that we lived against was anti cat and he put poison down which tempted Blue.
My mother tried everything to help save him but he died in agony in my mother's arms. It was just two weeks after surviving all the horrors of the blitz and saving two lives.
I can still see the devastation on my mothers face as she had her rosary in her hand saying a prayer for Blue. The tears that were shed over our beloved Blue could have filled a lake. Unfortunately my mother could not prove who had done this awful thing. I still weep about it now.
To think he had gone all through that to die the way he did.
I must add here that many animals were put to sleep when the war started. My mother would not let Blue be put to sleep.
Francis Stanley
23-07-2010, 08:31
I think this is my favourite thread, There are some really interesting things on this forum but the personal touch and memories of real everyday folk just leave me enthralled, please don't stop people.
Thanks to one and all of you for making this world a better place :)
What a remarkable story about Blue Maisie also beautiful yet sad it ended that way. The way creatures bond with 'us' has always fascinated me but Blue was obviously very special. Not all in your life was necessarily positive but some very good things happened that you treasure thanks for sharing them.
Many thanks Francis and Deejay.
Yes many tales to tell of that era.
Glad you are enjoying the tales of long ago.:)
Strangely enough I have had 4 requests this week for the book I wrote for charity about the first 20 years of my life. Two for the USA one for Belgium and another locally. It seems as though a lot of folks want to know about times gone past.
Thanks very much, Maisie, reminded me of the little dog we had at the beginning of the war.
When we were first evacuated, (summer 1940), he came with us and had a wonderful time trying to catch rabbits in the field at the bottom of my aunt's garden; then we went to a town nearer home and he discovered the delights of water, swimming in the ditch at the bottom of the garden.
We returned to Portsmouth and he raced round the house and garden, getting to know it again. He used to bark when he heard aircraft, but we had to leave him in his basket under the kitchen table because we were not allowed to take him into the shelter.
After the very heavy raid on Portsmouth in January 1941, my mother was ill and we had to be evacuated again, as an emergency. We had to leave Toby with a neighbour until we could find a place that would accept him, this time with my mother's married cousin, and Toby discovered the joys of woodland, as well as fields and long walks. We were there until the summer of 1943, when my mother wanted to go home.
When the Luftwaffe bombed Whale Island, some bombs fell in the creek but one landed in Sydenham's timber yard, luckily just behind the office so separated from the houses across the street, where we were in the neighbour's shelter - the shelter rocked as if it would turn right over, fortunately it didn't but we were all very shaken and all the houses round about had broken windows, despite all the tape stuck on to hold them.
Poor Toby was frantic when we went home. We fed him before we went to bed (Father had brought the bed down to the front living room on one of his weekends at home) but he could not settle and scratched the door until we took his basket into the bedroom and wrapped him up, because he was shivering.
The following day he was obviously not well, nor was my mother so I could not leave her and had to call the vet, who said Toby had hysteria. He gave him an injection and said he would have to be put to sleep if he was no better in 24 hours, because he might become vicious. Very expensive!
Next day he was no better and became distressed if we turned away from him, and he bit my mother's ankle. I asked a neighbour to sit with her and I walked him across town to the PDSA (Blue Cross), where I stood with him while they put him to sleep. They gave me his lead and harness, and that walk home was the most distressful in my young life.
Our neighbour called the doctor when my mother was frantic when I was a long time returning. He gave her an injection and some tablets to follow up to help her settle down again.
My mother decided she did not want to evacuate again, so we stayed on in Portsmouth, rushing across to the shelter in the summer and diving under the bed in the winter, living from day today until the excitement of the Canadian soldiers taking over Sydenham's in preparation for the 1944 landings, but that is another story.
Edna
NELLIE THE ELEPHANT.
I used to go round the schools to talk to children about WW2 and I used to take the elephant below to show them . The children were fascinated hearing the story about Nellie and loved to see the man spin round on the top of it.
The elephant below was sent from India in 1942 by my eldest brother who was in the RAF. When he had leave he bought this elephant to send her home to my parents plus a lovely embroidered table runner with the Taj Mahal on it all done with beads.
Unfortunately Nellie the Elephant got caught in a bombing raid that damaged quite a bit of Mount Pleasant Post Office in London.
When she finally reached us her trunk was off plus her tusks were missing .
My father glued the trunk and God knows what he glued it with because its still stuck to this day.
No superglue then but whatever it was it certainly made a good job of Nellie’s trunk. She stood for many years balancing the man on top of her trunk in my parents the window but still minus her tusks.
When it was handed down to me I went to a jewellers and bought two necklaces that had a nacre
( mother-of-pearl ) tusk hanging on them.
Hubby put the tusks in the holes where the original ones should have gone and Hey Presto here is Nellie in all her glory.
She has been a great conversation piece no matter who calls and children are fascinated watching the man spin on the top. She will definitely be staying in the family.
She started my collection off of carved wooden animals brought or sent to me from all countries in the world from the Russian bear to the New Zealand Kiwi. She too will be handed down the family.
http://i30.tinypic.com/1zm2mtu.jpg
Maisie, I do envy you your mementoes; having moved around a lot before retiring, and my elderly parents having been rehoused (to make room for the M275) I can find no little bits and pieces, and they are a great prompt to memory.
I have some photographs somewhere, hidden among my son's DIY materials as he restyles the house ............
Edna
The mementoes are looked after like the Crown Jewels Edna although they are not worth anything moneywise, but they are worth their weight in gold to me for the memories they recall. :)
Thank you for your wonderful stories. I always look forward to reading this thread. I was only 1yr old when the war ended and living in Oz, my family wasn't subject to nightly air raids. it is very interesting to read of your experiences during the blitz.
I don't know if they had street parties in Oz. Nobody left to ask in my family.
Cheers
Bruce
Thankyou Bruce for letting us know that you are enjoying the tales of long ago.
I was 15 when the war ended and can well remember the street parties and the all night celebrations.
Wonderful memories. :)
We had a big street party soon after ve day, everybody took a day to cook something special.
Glad, our neighbour, got the lads to lift her piano into the street and, after the eats, we had a sing-a-long, while they removed all the tables and table-cloths - but left the chairs for the oldies! That left us some space and Glad played some dance music, if you didn't have a partner, you danced in a ring around the street lamp.
I was fourteen, so this was a totally once-upon-a-time experience - one I shall never forge!
Edna
Listening to radio 3 recently I had a sudden flashback; they were playing a recording of Elgar's Pomp and Circumstance no. 4 and I remembered the words we sang at school (I believe they were by A.P. Herbert)
All men must be free, march for liberty with me;
Brutes and braggarts may have their little day,
We shall never bow the knee.
God is drawing his sword, we are marching with the Lord;
Sing, then, brother sing, giving everything,
All we are and hope to be,
To set the people free.
Unfortunately I can't remember any verses, but I remember a variation of the final chorus to fit the music --
All we are and hope to be,
To take the torch across the sea,
And set the people, keep the people, free!
I haven't been able to find any details, perhaps someone has a similar memory??
Edna
jainso31
20-11-2010, 12:28
I remember the night when German bombers came across the North Sea and flew over our borough of Berwick on Tweed; and for whatever reason, they dropped bombs on our tiny village and killed an entire family of four-father,mother,son and grandfather(his bed was blown on to the top of a nearby gasholder)
Our roof was made of pantiles and was so badly damaged we had to be rehoused.
In the panic to get to the air raid shelter,my mother dragged my brother and I at such a pace, that I lost a shoe and I wanted to go back to find it, but mother was implacable and we spent a miserable two hours in the dank hole that was our communal air raid shelter Never did find my shoe!
jainso31
Always on the Lookout!
jainso31 - Welcome! And thanks for your comment. I'm sorry you never found your shoe! (a) they were expensive and (b) they needed clothing coupons (which were always short, if you were a growing youngster!)
Funny, the things that stick in your memory; after Sydenhams Timber Yard in Portsmouth was bombed, (less than a hundred yards away from our shelter but separated by the office) my mother and I walked back to our own home across a street full of glass shards - every window in the street had been blown out - not good for the soles of our shoes but luckily the local cobbler was able to put on a new sole!
Tell us some more, please.
Edna
jainso31
21-11-2010, 12:57
We were rehoused in a small village about 5/6mls up the R Tweed, next to the Fishers Arms public house. It was frequented by many RAF &WAAF types, who cycled from the nearby Nightfighter OTU at RAF Winfield.Many a riotous night sitting on the intervening wall-those were fun times
The war had other plans-Winfield being a Training Station -there many "prangs". The worst one was in mid 1943, when a Beaufighter went into a stall and plunged into a nearby copse-the noise of the crash was horrendous! Beaufighters were known "death traps" in such circumstances; as the two crew members had minimal means of escape and so it proved -the poor chaps burnt to death. The village was virtually under martial law, as no one was allowed near the crash because of Fire,Smoke and exploding 20mm cannonshells-it took quite some time before the silence returned!
No fun and games that night!
jainso31
Always on the Lookout!
JS - we were all concerned about 'death traps', not just the Beaufighters but, in our case, my brother on a 'Woolworth carrier', the shell was not as solid as our own home-built ships, also they were in fact conversions of (usually unfinished) merchant ships, given a 'flat deck' to take aircraft, and certainly my brother and his mates had no confidence in them. I think this improved as the war went on, but apparently a minor collision in Belfast Lough was enough to put them out of action for extensive repairs.
Edna
jainso31
23-11-2010, 16:49
Edna -My vignette was was just another wartime memory and was not intended to single out the OTU Beaufighter especially, as a "deathtrap".When
taking a closer look, at what all those who served in that global war;the perils they were threatened with were-monumental!
1939/40 saw the Royal navy sending out hastily armed mercantile vessels to stand up to Hitler's capital ships -another deathtrap
1941/42 the destruction of Brotish capital ships with wooden decks and faulty magazine protection by plunging shellfire or aerial bombs-deathtraps.
1943/44 flimsily built Woolworth carriers-deathtraps
Oil tankers and their nemesis the U boat-deathtraps
Heavy bombers v German nightfighters armed with fixed cannon guns, flying out of view, below and to the side; gave our bomber boys no chance-deatftraps
Sherman tanks known as Tommy Cookers/Ronsons brewed up, if hit with an 88mm shell-deathtraps.
I do respect your felings for your brother,who,like all brave men soldiered on
in the face of adversity;and in the end overcame all that was chucked at them.
RANT OVER!(I apologise for that; but I had to say it!)
jainso31
Always on the Lookout!
Thank you; I accept all you say.
Bears out my point on another thread, we were completely unprepared for WW2 (although some planning had been going on, there was little 'wherewithal') .......... now we are heading in the same direction, with nothing between us and 'the rest of the world'.
Edna
jainso31
24-11-2010, 11:25
Hear,hear Edna; there is no GREAT in Britain today-Winston's in his grave and game Maggie no longer able to get us back into the position we ought to be in. Who leads us today with Actions (not empty rhetoric)-a bunch of greenhorns who place their position; above their bounden duty to the indigenous population of these islands.
The Armed Forces of this country, once the envy of the world, have been reduced to lackies of our allies. Nevertheless our brave and resolute men and women, soldier on, in spite of the slurs cast upon them.DUTY- FIRST. LAST AND ALWAYS! Perhaps in these sterling people, of whom, we should all be justly proud-there is the spark of GREATNESS!!
jainso31
Thinking again of WW2, I have been watching the BBC 'restoring the High Street' and found it fascinating, particularly the most recent one which was of the WW2 period - the rationing, the queueing, the make-do-and-mending, the black market, the 'little bit under the counter', the return to old-fashioned food like bacon pudding (from counter scraps and onions) - and swapping among neighbours for unpopular foods!
The shortage of fruit! When I had jaundice and could not eat, the neighbour I babysat for gave me her (2 green books!) bananas because her two little boys, never having seen or tasted bananas, DID NOT LIKE THEM !
Life was simpler, and friendlier then.
Edna
doug.birch
26-11-2010, 01:01
Dear Edna, I remember the war year vividly, I left school at 14 in 1936, and as a family we were just getting over the bad 20s & 30s, but already Europe was shaping up for trouble. The day war declared, I was filling sand- bags at Lewisham Hospital, when we got our first air- raid warning, of cause the so called phoney war was on, so we Air- Cadets went back to work. In 1940 I joined the Home- Guard & experienced many nights of the Blitz. In 41 I joined the RN and while I was away from home our house was damaged by a bomb blast and we moved to Charlton , my mother was injured from the blast from a doodle bug & I got special leave to visit her in hospital & whilst walking to the hospital a doodle bug cut out near me I jumped to the ground, experiencing the horrors of the bomb and was glad to get back to the ship, boy do I Remember the War.
Doug. Birch.
jainso31
26-11-2010, 07:46
As a pre teen living in the country,apart from the nearby Nightfighter OTU;life was idyllic .Helping out on localfarms ,haymaking,harvesting,cutting thistles,picking potatoes and even taking a hand at digging for victory.The Landgirls were undoubtedly a distraction, even for teenage boy.
There were no dangers that I recall,such as there are today,away from it all ;
the war and those who fought in it were far away-I think I saw my father
about ten times during the war; when he was on leave.
I have to say that I had a wonderful childlife from 1941to 45.
jainso31
My war was in chapters; first of all, my recalled-pensioner father was based at HMS Excellent where he had a 'cushie one', Chief of the Footbridge (!), establishing new security procedures, so he was at home most nights (though they did work watches), until he was transfered to the army on the east coast to help man mobile guns.
Our first evacuation (my mother had a nervous breakdown) was to my mother's sister in the summer of 1940 and I went to the local school with my cousin and learned the fun of being a country child during the school summer holiday. My mother recovered and we returned to Portsmouth, where I enjoyed the pleasures of half-day schooling.
When Portsmouth had its big blitz in January 1941 we had to leave again, and go to another sister (very crowded), until we could find something in a neighbouring village, where I went to a tiny (32 place) school for a year and took my 11 plus.
In the summer of 1942 my mother decided to return to Portsmouth and there we stayed till the end of the war, trying to rescue my father's garden (he had been returned to the navy and was based in Scotland), knitting for the forces, learning dressmaking in order to recycle our old coats and dresses, turning sheets sides to middle, visiting the local cobbler for new soles to keep our shoes in repair (and thereby save clothing coupons for underwear, etc.).
Several of my friends used to visit in the evenings and we would help each other with knitting, sewing, hairdressing (! my mother was a willing model) and having a sing-a-long with the 'wireless' (not radio, in those days).
It wasn't an easy time, but we had friendship and fun, and life was simpler.
When the war ended, it gave me a change of school, but everything else was just the same because the shortages meant rationing continued.
Edna
My mother was homeless after bombs damaged the house she was living in Fratton in 1940. She was offered a house in Wymering by the council and moved there with my two brothers [my Dad being away in the Army]. I was born beginning of 1942 and my first recollection is the street party where they hung a straw effigy of Hitler from the lampost and set it on fire. We had an Anderson shelter in the garden and dug it up in 1947 to use as a shed. That Christmas ['47] we spent down at 43 Stanley Road [about half way down to the bridge] where my uncle had a greengrocers and where I had my first overseas grown fruit. His war finished at Dunkirk when he was machine-gunned through the legs and had difficulty getting around afte that but to make ends meet he used forage out on his his horse and cart around Portsmouth selling fruit and veg. His horse "Tommer" was brilliant. It would take him and the cart from the top of Wymering lane all the way home via Hillsea Bridge and into Stamshaw whilst he was fast asleep on the seat! My Aunt always used to complain about sailors on their way back to Whale Island peeing in the shop doorway at night on their way back from a run ashore.:(
For those interested the book - Battle over Portsmouth by Paul Jenkins and published by Middleton Press is a good narrative with pictures of 1940.
Slightly off topic, I remember a barrage balloon tethered on Horsea Island in the early '50's which was struck by lightning and burst into flames. What would the purpose of that been? Something to do with the wireless station?
jainso31
09-02-2011, 15:05
My father was a two badge RNR Chatham rating-he'd been recalled for three
days during the Munich Crisis in 1938.He was mobilised on the 28th of August 1939,almost a week before war was declared;a month later he was at sea in the North Atlantic. I had just started Primary School; and this was more traumatic to me, than the War and missing my father.
jainso31
Thanks, lads, most interesting.
I had two friends living in Stanley Road, June French and Peggy Dickeson, both about halfway down, opposite sides, near Simpson Alley.
At last, someone who also experienced the 1938 alarm call! My father reported, and was told to go home, check out (or replace) his uniform, and report to Excellent on declaration of war - so he reported on Monday, 4th September, they sent him home till Tuesday then made him Chief of the Footbridge, to establish a reporting system and better security - he was adjudged too old for sea service.
I think some people doubted the 1938 recall, but it happened.
Edna
Reading through these posts, now I know why Jainso signs himself "always on the lookout". I don't suppose that shoe will fit now Jainso!
jainso31
10-02-2011, 19:01
Yes!-looking for that ruddy shoe that came off my feet when being dragged to an air raid shelter by a terrified mother-but as you say-it'll be a tad too small for me now-her indoors thinks I'm too big for my boots anyway.
jainso31
Thanks, lads, most interesting.
I had two friends living in Stanley Road, June French and Peggy Dickeson, both about halfway down, opposite sides, near Simpson Alley.
At last, someone who also experienced the 1938 alarm call! My father reported, and was told to go home, check out (or replace) his uniform, and report to Excellent on declaration of war - so he reported on Monday, 4th September, they sent him home till Tuesday then made him Chief of the Footbridge, to establish a reporting system and better security - he was adjudged too old for sea service.
I think some people doubted the 1938 recall, but it happened.
Edna
My Relations at 43 Stanley Rd were Herb & Nell Shergold.
Edna, I have pm'd you with the correct link for the pics.
The picture is of the street party on VE day in Sudbury Rd, Wymering, Portsmouth. This event must have been replicated all over the country. The effigy of Hitler was strung up on a lamp post outside No. 9 and set on fire.
Exile - thanks, have responded to pm.
Apart from friends in Stanley Road during the war, I also had a friend in Sudbury Road, Wymering, just after the war - Beryl Moore, I think her father was a policeman.
The world gets smaller every day!
Edna
Have just re-read some of these posts, having been to the D Day Museum and been reminded of much along the way.
I noticed my post #230 - and now I have discovered the details! I'll bet none of you could sing it! It is Elgar's Pomp and Circumstance No.4 :--
Song of Liberty
(Words by A.P. Herbert)
VERSE
Fight for freedom, ev`ryone.
Build the ship and man the gun.
Do as you have never done
To set the peoples free.
We, the few, the happy free,
Will fly the flags of Liberty,
Blow the horns of Liberty! Liberty!
Till the world is free.
CHORUS
All men must be free.
March for Liberty with me.
Brutes and braggarts may
Have their little day,
We shall never bow the knee.
God is drawing his sword.
We are marching with the Lord.
Sing, then, brother, sing,
Giving ev`rything,
All you are and hope to be,
To set the peoples free.
VERSE
Wake and watch and work and win,
Fight and farm and sew and spin,
Fall the faithful people in
To set the peoples free.
But the day the battle`s won,
Never say the fight is done.
Make the world a better one! Better one!
When the world is free.
CHORUS
All men must be free.
March for Liberty with me.
Brutes and braggarts may
Have their little day,
We shall never bow the knee.
God is drawing his sword.
We are marching with the Lord.
Sing, then, brother, sing,
Giving ev`rything,
All you are and hope to be,
To take the torch across the sea
And set the peoples,
Keep the peoples free.
Edna
I couldn't read all of it, I'm afraid I would burst into tears , remembering how we were & how we are now saddens me greatly.
jainso31
15-06-2011, 18:41
Me too Keith-me too in spades.:(
jainso31
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