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Page2 MEMORIES OF WEST END Len Payne PUT THE PEDAL TO THE METAL! As a four year old at the end of the war my memories are sparse. About all I can recall is taking my pedal car from home, in Titchfield Church St, out along Funtley Lane as far as my little legs could go, probably upto the Railway Bridge, and all I saw was a continuous line of camouflaged vehicles. All the soldiers were working at putting thick gunge all over the engines, presumably ready for D Day. On several occasions my pedal car was given a similar coating, much to Mums annoyance. If I was lucky I might even get a square of chocolate as well, what a treat. I found out years later that we were forbidden to travel more than about 10 miles inland at this stage. Another favourite was walking alongside the Titchfield Canal to the beach to watch the big ships rushing in and out of Southampton loaded with troops. We moved into Portsmouth in the July of 45, my first site of enemy damage. Dad returned in about Nov I think, that was the first time I saw him and was able to remember him as he had not been home for about 3 years. Pete THE WALLS HAVE EARS David Parker mentioned rationing in his wartime memories. I remember that the health of the nation actually improved after the war. For the first and only time ever. And it was all put down to the rationing. Going to Hell in a handcart again now though. Now, there may have been some who did suffer with getting enough to eat, but we always had sufficient. I distinctly remember the one solitary Sunday when we didn't have a traditional roast. Not because we didn't have the joint, that was in the meat safe (No one had fridges in them days.), but because Jerry had blown up the bloody gas works. If only he'd known how put out we were, he might have tried it again. So we said nothing. "Walls Have Ears!"* You know(See below!) I didn't mind not having any gas though. I helped mum with a camp fire and we had sausage and mash followed by sooty stewed apple and smoked custard. For a family, the rations were adequate. However, I think someone on their own would have found things less comfortable. Now, I don't care what people say, I cannot believe that everyone was completely honest. To one degree or another, most people found a way of 'supplementing' their rations. For those with money, it was easy. If they couldn't buy the food from "Under-the- Counter" or on the black market, then they bought the coupons and points instead. The black market operated everywhere and, I should imagine, at all levels. King's piggery, just down the road from us, slaughtered a few animals on the quiet. Saw them myself, hanging in the barn. The Kings, hitherto as poor as church mice bought a big new house and had a car each by 1946. My uncle Albert was up to his neck in nylons, chocolate, cigarettes, whisky, sugar, well - everything. Food, clothing and petrol coupons as well. He worked on the Southern Railway and had useful contacts throughout S England. He came home one morning with bags full of sugar. "Worked our socks off," he said, "We shunted that bloody train for a whole night shift before the sacks burst." They couldn't get the sacks out of sealed wagons, so they collected the liberated sugar as it ran through the cracks in the floor. Everyone kept on best terms with their local shopkeepers. There was always something special "Under-the-Counter" for regulars. The butcher would weigh out 2/- worth of mutton, but wrap it up out of sight and charge 5/-. When you got home you'd find a bit of steak & kidney or a couple of nice chops. Casual shoppers at the newsagents would have to content themselves with 5 Park Drive fags - if they were lucky. Regulars smoked Players or Senior Service. Same arrangements at the off-licence. Granddad Cook had retired, but went back to work as part-time odd job man at Whitbread's Brewery in Chiswick. There was a massive hoarding out back by the Piccadilly & District Railway lines. He ran wire netting around the supports and filled it with chickens. He supplied the work's canteen with eggs in return for the scraps to feed his hens on. He also charmed the cooks out of a weekly bag of bacon bones. Saturday we always had bacon and lentil or split pea soup. And we were never short of eggs or a chicken at Christmas. We did alright and I rarely heard anyone complain of being hungry. Oh! What a head - Full of trivia. I wish I could remember where I put my car registration. I can only think it was somewhere very safe. *Wartime poster, like, "Be like dad, keep mum!" Maybe more on them later. Ernie Bull Bristol HMS/M STYGIAN 1945 Pacific
During another patrol we located (by sonar) a tanker of about 3000tons.The captain decided to attack but first surfaced to warn the crew to take to the boats, this they did and a torpedo rapidly disposed of the tanker. Later on the same patrol we sighted a copra boat, of about five hundred tons, normally used by the islanders for carrying copra. We had received signals informing that the Japanese were using them to ferry arms and ammunition, from the occupied mainland to their troops in the islands that abound in that area. The ship was first sighted from periscope depth (thirty feet), and the skipper ordered the guns crew to stand by the fore hatch, ready to man the gun immediately we surfaced. This was accomplished and not a moment too soon because as we surfaced, they sighted us. A camouflage canvas screen; that was covering the ships gun-turret on the after deck was lowered, and they had hidden a long range rapid-fire gun, similar to the Bofors Ha-La Luckily our gun-crew was equal to the occasion, they destroyed both the gun and the crew with their first round. After that a number of shells hit and holed her, but she was a wooden hull so we could not sink her with the gun or torpedo, she would be too shallow a target for a torpedo. The skipper decided he wanted a demolition charge placing in the engine room, to blow her to pieces. He asked me to go with the T I (Torpedo Chief), to make out a report on any radio transmitting & receiving gear and the aerial system. Also, the type of cargo on board if any. The TI took his detonators etc and I carried the plastic explosive charge. As the "Stygian " approached, bow on to the target, we made our way along the fore casing to board her. We were just about level with the forward hatch, when one of the surviving Japanese clambered up from the engine room. He promptly dived over the side of the ship, and proceeded to swim downwards. When he surfaced, it was only long enough to turn towards the sun and shout something in Japanese. The 1st Lt ordered a rope to be thrown but the Japanese ignored it and swam down again several times, until the last time he came up, only the top of his head broke the surface. All that was visible was a small whitish patch of his skull, where the jet black hair was parted by the water. Finally, he sank slowly like a stone. He never surfaced again as far as I am aware, but he had not been the only survivor on board. Another one dived over the far side, and clung to the rudder, which was out of the water, the ship was bow down, due to the fore-end being flooded. Number one then fired a couple of .45 shots at the rudder, to try to frighten him away before we demolished the boat. The third and last one dashed out as the we boarded her. The T. I. grabbed and passed him back to me and I to the men on the casing to take below. There was a body right under the gunnel where I boarded, with a large hole through it where a shell had hit and continued on, the remains of the gun crew scattered about the stern, a bit sickening but with a job to do no time for such. Next we proceeded to take the twenty-five-pound charge down into the engine room which was partly flooded.Leaving the T.I. to install the explosive charge, I went aloft and found the radio shack. It contained a spark transmitter, and a small transceiver capable of transmitting on the 500 kc emergency band. Noting this, and the details of the aerials etc., I went for'd, and located the cargo hold. That compartment was stacked with rifles, and ammunition, hundreds of .303 calibre Lee Enfield army rifles, packed nine to a case,all stacked in the hold, together with ammunition in smaller cases. A few minutes after we had returned to 'Stygian' and she had cast off, the charge detonated and the copra boat was no more. The ship was completely disintegrated, and presumably the Japanese sailor who was still clinging on to the rudder went with her. Our lone Japanese survivor now aboard the 'Stygian', had been well indoctrinated, he really believed we were going to torture him,the Chief engineer knew a bit of Japanese and could converse with him. He was so relieved when we offered him a cigarette, and food, that he volunteered to scrub decks. Whatever he was told to do, he would have done. He couldn't understand why we were not making him work, or even why we didn't lock him up. On our return to Fremantle he was handed over to the naval base. Ben Skeates Mt Isa, Australia LOCAL GOSSIP Common complaints by returning servicemen were their wives' and girlfriends' faithfulness and the apparent wealth of the 'cowards' who stayed at home. (And often the ones contributing to those questions of fidelity.) Nothing got the gossips going like a new arrival in the street. Then they would all be working out when the husband was last home and counting up months on fingers. Other gossip would be about how Mrs W was maybe getting more coal than she was entitled to, or that Mrs Y gets extra oranges. "Well, we could all get extra if we were prepared to go out back for ten minutes," they would say, as they cocked their heads in the knowing manner of gossips. Some illegal and immoral activities were easily detected and spoken of, but some went about things in a quieter way. The local school caretaker had a club foot, so was classified unfit for service. However, his caretaking left him with plenty of free time and nobody could fault the way he chose to employ it. He did what Churchill urged, he "Dug for Victory." By VE-Day he had fenced and cultivated just about every spare piece of ground in the town. Bomb sites mainly, but any undeveloped plots and even odd bits of council property all fell to his spade. Every day saw him fetching and carrying tools and produce in his wheelbarrow. "What a great fellow," everyone thought, "Really doing his bit for King and Country." Post war, the government eventually set about rebuilding the houses that had been destroyed, but it all took time, and the caretaker carried on digging his allotments and raising his crops for it was the patriotic thing to do. Then that very patriotic man sprung his surprise. He took title to all of his allotments. He'd "husbanded" them for the statutory period and established ownership rights under the laws of Adverse Occupation. The government even paid to rebuild the houses that had stood on some of them. The rest he developed himself and he became the town's biggest estate agent. He did especially well when you consider that the MoD even supplied the seeds and the fertilizer he had used all through the war. He got everything for nothing. Easy when you know how. Then the gossips got going again, for they said that at least two of those deprived of their homes were war widows. Ernie Bull Bristol CANADIAN MEMORIES remember war time rationing in Canada. I remember ration books and blackouts. I remember war time saving stamps and savings bonds I do not remember these recipes. I was pretty young but remember turning in tin cans and fat for the war effort. I remember having to cover windows with black out material as well as the headlights on the cars only being slits. My father worked in a sensitive area repairing ships that returned from battle. He worked at the Navel Graving Dock and Dry Dock. He could never tell any of us what ships were in or what ships were out. He did not have to serve as he was considered an essential service. I remember going with him one night to see a ship come limping in. I do not know its name or its story. He worked in Esquimalt which was one of the largest Naval bases in Canada and was on the west coast. I remember the Estevan Lighthouse being bombed or torpedoed by a submarine. I remember powdered bananas and powdered eggs and never seeing a real banana until after the war. Sugar was an unknown as was chocolate. Sometimes the store had a bit but it was usually gone by the time word got out. Jam was a premium and it took coupons and often there wasn't any anyway. I remember the excitement when there was something other than rabbit or mutton on the table. We did live rurally and were able to get some things fresh and we did have some eggs and a victory garden. I lived in the blackout with my grandmother through the week and home to the country on weekends. I remember my dad being home very seldom. I remember VE Day announcement and VJ Day and reading about the atomic bomb. I was a fluent reader at 5. I cannot tell you how much I have enjoyed those memories shared with us on the list. I appreciate the stories of England and what you suffered. My husband was born and lived in the New Forest for the first few years ofhis life. The they moved closer to Portsmouth as his father was also in the ship building industry (Vickers I think or was it Vosper? Sorry). He said he watched the bombing of Portsmouth many times. He has so many stories as he was the same age as me but in a much more vulnerable area. Thank you for the stories. I am proud to have some English blood in my veins. Moira Victoria Moira Simmonds Armstrong, B.C. Can. RAF RESCUE Reinforcements for Rommel’s troops in North Africa were being shipped from Germany down through Europe. Then they were being shipped by sea down the west coast of Italy, from the northwestern port of Genoa. Most of our patrols took place either down the west coast, or in the vicinity of the straits of Messina. We were so successful that they laid a huge minefield, between the Island of Pantellaria and Cap Bon, on the coast of North Africa to block us out. They were apparently conventional mines, attached to the seabed with a concrete base, via a steel cable, and located at various depths. The skipper ordered us all to assemble at Captain S10's Quarters, in Lazaretto. The Captain out-lined what had happened with regard to the mining of our usual route, he then turned the meeting over to our skipper. Skipper then told us that he was taking 'Utmost', to plot a course through the minefield by Asdic, and anyone who preferred not to go, were at liberty to leave then and there. They would be flown back to U.K, or absorbed into the base spare crew, and the matter would not be recorded against them. No one stepped down, and the following day 24th July we set out for the eastern approach to the minefield. On the second day out from Malta, we intercepted a 'May-Day' emergency call, from a Royal Air Force reconnaissance crew; they had to ditch their Blenheim near Tunis, on the coast of Africa. It was touch and go whether we could beat the German E-Boats, which would no doubt be sent from Taranto. We made it, and submerged, with the three crewmen safely onboard, before we heard the noise of the HE (hydrophone effect) from the E-boats, that fortunately for the R A F lads, arrived too late.Obviously we could not turn back from our mission to take the R A F lads to Malta, so the Skipper told them the situation, and they were obliged to accept that. After all it was no doubt better than being taken prisoner by the GermansThey were not very impressed by the fact that we were heading for an uncharted minefield. However they eventually took it all in good part, and became almost part of the crew, helping out with various general duties. The plotting of the mine positions was carried out by the navigator at the chart table and myself on the asdic (sonar) the skipper monitored every bearing as we progressed. When the echoing asdic pips showed the presence of a mine, I passed a bearing taken from the Goniometer, and & distance by stop watch (* note) to the Navigator who then informed the Captain which course to take to avoid it..*The distance was determine by a special stopwatch that was marked with distances instead of time, from the time I pressed the key to hearing the returning echo in the headphones, meant that I could read the distances. The only detail that we didn't have was the depth of the mine below the surface. By carrying out a series of cat and mouse direction changes, easing through the widest gap, we eventually arrived at the Western end of the minefield. Our immediate task was completed. We surfaced that night, and after ciphering the Captain's report, I transmitted it to the Admiralty in England, who then repeated the signal for the benefit of Lt Cdr Wanklyn (Upholder) and Lt Cdr Tomkinson (Urge) and Capt ‘S’ 10 in Malta. In essence the message to Malta base was “Utmost to ‘Capt S10’ Next please”. It was sent via the Naval signals depot in Capetown, South Africa, for onward transmission to Admiralty in England then back to our base in Malta. This apparently roundabout signals route was used, so that the signals were re-transmitted by the Admiralty, world wide,and repeated every four hours. This meant that the receiving station did not need to acknowledge receipt by return, and so expose his position, but could make a short receipt signal, (‘R’) and be off air too quickly for the enemy to take bearings. During our passage through the minefield, we did pass very close to one or two of the mine anchor cables, the scrape of the cable on the pressure hull was easily heard inside the sub. This could, and did occur twice during the operation, when the mine was suspended either too high, or too low to reflect an echo, ie; it was outside the vertical range of the Asdic beam. The rest of the patrol proved uneventful and passengers were no doubt relieved when we arrived back at the base. Though I wouldn’t care to swap my job for theirs. * The large ˝ ton Piezo electric quartz sonar disc, which transmitted the sonar pulse beam, was capable of being turned in a complete circle horizontally, but there was no means then of altering the vertical direction of it. Ben Skeates Mt Isa Australia I cannot put dates to these events because I have lent my local history account to my granddaughter. She is doing a school project on the blitz. One evening, about 10 PM, a lone bomber dropped a stick of about 6 bombs. We were in the shelter for this one and we were all safe. Granddad came in later to say that three houses in Nelson Road were gone with direct hits and there were casualties. Another bomb was behind the school and two more near my dad's parents' home in Hounslow Road. He'd checked and they were OK. They only had broken windows. However, my uncle Albert and his family were homeless. Their old cottage over the road was beyond repair. My school was in Nelson Road and I had to pass two of the destroyed houses. The first one was a semi-detached. The one semi was just a pile of bricks and sticks and the road was littered thick with debris of all kinds. I can see it now. Bricks reduced almost to dust in one place and a complete window frame leaning against a fence. Remarkably, it contained unbroken glass. Next to it, pieces of wood blasted to individual fibres and looking like giant paintbrushes. Then, in amongst all the rubble and personal effects, half of a hand. I ran off to tell a policeman, but all he could say was, "Mark it with pile of bricks and a stick, sonny. We'll see to it later. My friends and I then started looking in earnest, like it was some macabre competition, but we found no more body pieces. What we did notice, though, was the parting wall of the house. The bit with the chimneys and fireplaces. The back bedroom mantle-shelf still bore a vase of flowers and, above, a mirror hung on the wall. We found out later that the man of the house had been at the front gate watching for his wife and daughter, who had been to the cinema. He was killed. The second property, further along, was a bungalow. One body was in the bed, the spouse was missing. He or she was found several days later in a tree some way away. When the son turned up to see to things, he reported that a strong box, containing deeds and insurance policies as well as money and jewellery, was missing. It was never found. Someone had an early Christmas present.I wonder if that is what is meant by the "Fortunes of War."? Footnote: My aunty Edie and her two children, who lived not far from the third bombed house, had disappeared. The back door was unlocked. Uncle Charlie had got in off his nightshift and come home to an empty house. Everyone had spent all that day enquiring at hospitals, checking neighbours, filling out forms at the police station and generally getting sick with worry. A neighbour received a telephone call late that night. They'd been evacuated to N Wales. They were back after a few weeks - didn't like the cooking! Ernie Bull Bristol 1944 HMS Stratagem When we arrived at Aden it was more uncomfortable than usual, because it was hot and humid and we had no means of cooling the air inside the boat; so for the few nights that we were alongside we slept on the concrete jetty. There was a shark net slung from the pier to secure a safe area for swimming, some of the crew did that, whilst some of us fished off the jetty. We caught various, gorgeously coloured fish of all shapes and sizes, some of them bright red and yellow, with long spikes sticking out of them like spines. They were all thrown back though, we didn't know whether they were edible or not. They probably would have been safer to eat, than the barrow load of fresh Yak meat that was sent down, the day we were leaving. The blood had not even had time to drain and the meat was literally covered with large blow flies. Blood from the recently, slaughtered animals, was pouring from the trolley, on which the two local men were transporting it. Onboard, we had one small domestic absorption-type fridge in which to store it, and that fridge could not even deep freeze water, let alone hot meat. The following day, the coxswain opened the fridge door to get some meat out for the galley. He slammed the fridge door shut, and stepped back, the stench was horrific. 'Swain' decided that we had to get it out of the boat quick-smart. If we had to dive with that on board it would have been a catastrophe, rotting matter consumes oxygen at an alarming rate. We had to make a human chain from the galley to the bridge, and bucket by bucket, pass the whole lot up through the conning tower to ditch it over the side. The sharks loved it. That meant pilchards and hard tack again, from the emergency stores for the rest of that leg. We could not carry more than one day's supply of fresh food. Even bread went blue with mould after the first day, it was due to the humid, hot atmosphere in the boat, and the general lack of oxygen when dived. Three days out of Aden, I went up for a 'look-out' breather, there was a vicious looking tornado twisting and turning on the horizon. The duty officer reckoned it to be about eighteen miles away at the base. It was blue black in colour, and appeared quite narrow at sea level, then as it twisted its way up into the sky, it became larger until it seemed to cover almost the whole sky. In spite of the distance, it actually rained (salt water) on us. There were apparently no enemy in the Indian ocean that we knew of, except the sharks, and of course the weather. We never intercepted anything during the entire trip though we did have a number of flying fish land on the casing. When we arrived in Trincomalee (Ceylon) we tied up alongside the submarine depot ship H.M.S. Maidstone. Food, Showers and Sleep at last Ben Skeates Mt Isa, Australia
KOREA a Place in Time The Yanks hit them from seaward at a place known as Inchon, as the Chinese sensing a defeat, started peace talks at Panmunjom. From Pork Chop Hill to Wonsan, from Seoul to Taegu, the UN troops were pushing north, under a banner of blue,the First Commonwealth Division, fought and held their ground, as the talks at Panmunjom went another round. The talking finally over, an armistice agreed, from the 38th southward, the country had been freed,three bitter years of fighting over that poor battered land, will be swallowed and forgotten by natures healing hand. We said goodbye to all our friends, and left for home with speed, or to take up arms in other lands where there was a need, but now as I grow older and wiser with the years, I reflect was it worth the friends we left there, or their loved ones tears.a place to forget Len Payne A September Day As we commemorate the 65th Anniversary of the Battle of Britain, here is my small tribute to the Royal Air Force, past and present. Lacy ribbons of vapour trails crisscross the morning sky, Tracing the path of fighter planes and young men born to fly, They took off at dawns first light and climbed into the heights, Eager to see the Hun come into view, in the cross hairs of their sights. From Tangmere and Coltishall, from Northolt and Biggin Hill, The fighters of Eleven Group the skies began to fill, They climbed high into the sun, to patrol their allotted space, And with straining eyes, they scanned the skies, both novice and fighter ace. The early warning radar picked up the approaching force, And directed the waiting fighter planes to an interceptor course, From fifteen thousand feet they started their attack, And hurled themselves with fury headlong into the bomber pack. The escorting enemy fighters with Swastikas embossed, Were no match for their hungry guns and many of them were lost. The bombers now exposed to the fighter planes attack, Had no stomach for the fight, and in vain attempted to turn back. But the vengeance of the fighters after many months of loss, Was pitiless toward the enemy bearing the Iron Cross, The skies above the Kentish Weald became a hunting ground, As Spitfire met Messerschmitt and chased it like a hound. Before the sun had run it's course and claimed it's nightly rest, The Fighters of Eleven Group had passed their stiffest test, Now sixty years have passed and Winston's words ring true, To paraphrase his famous quote, "we are grateful to the Few". Len Payne ALL CLEAR |
If you wear the "butchers apron" then your my kind of guy,for you were in Korea when the bullets began to fly,we were called to the land of the Morning
Calm in 1951,to help put out a fire the North Korean's had begun.
We landed down in Pusan and started trekking north,as we reached the Yalu River we thought we had shown our worth,when without a moments warning a
raging blizzard blew,and pushed hard by the Chinese, we fell back on Wonju.
Fighting hard to keep a line along the River Han,when the pride of every regiment that is part of every man,shone forth amongst the Gloster's, as at the Imjim
they made their stand.Their valour was infectious, and right across the land, the tide of war was turning, the push northward was at hand.
