True Experience's - Walter Fleet
As a youngster in Dartmouth during the war (I was ten when
the war ended) it was a great place to be, From the very beginning the harbour
was always busy with navel ships coming and going day and night, it was a
coaling station for ships of all types and with the Naval Collage and shipyards
a potential target for enemy planes.
Life was very exiting, the fact that atrocities were being committed and people being killed every day was something that was way over the head of us children. Dartmouth was a balloon station for ships proceeding up or down the English Channel, When not in use these were tethered in what is now a car park near the river and would be taken to or from the Quay by Airmen holding the cable weighted with sand bags, there a duty boat was waiting to take them out or bring some back from the convoys as they past the entrance to the harbour. A favourite pastime for us was watching these comings and going as it was not uncommon for a Balloon to break loose, the Airmen would desperately try to hold on to it and were sometimes carried quite a way into the air before letting go. On a clear day you could watch the balloon rise way up before bursting in the thinner atmosphere. During one of the air raids on the town a bomb landed next to the girls school and it was unsafe to use. With no other suitable buildings available the Girls had to use the Boys school, Boys in the morning and Girls in the afternoon one week then change over the following week, As someone who always thought school got in the way off better things to do life couldn't get much better, that was until one summer when my brother and I were taken up to Norfolk where my father was stationed. Instead of enjoying the pleasures of the Norfolk countryside we found that he had arranged for us to go to school in Thetford the nearest town, to make matters worse, when the Head Teacher learnt that we only went to school for half a day, he offered to give us extra tuition to catch up, we were not amused. Much of the area near the village where we were staying was used by the services for training, one day when we were playing there we found a two inch mortar bomb, having been told these were dangerous we thought it should be handed in, we knew we shouldn't pick it up so found a piece of rope which we tied on to the fins and dragged it some twenty feet or so behind us until we found somewhere to hand it over.
Back in Dartmouth life became even more exciting as preparations for D Day got under way. With nearly 500 ships leaving for Normandy the whole area became one large military base and we youngsters were able to go just where we wanted, as long as we kept our heads down. During the loading of the transport ships the waterfront area was sealed off, people living within the controlled area were given passes. This was no problem us, a friend lived in a house that had its front door within the restricted area and a back door out side, at weekend and after school this became a regular route to watching a piece of history in the making.
Life was very exiting, the fact that atrocities were being committed and people being killed every day was something that was way over the head of us children. Dartmouth was a balloon station for ships proceeding up or down the English Channel, When not in use these were tethered in what is now a car park near the river and would be taken to or from the Quay by Airmen holding the cable weighted with sand bags, there a duty boat was waiting to take them out or bring some back from the convoys as they past the entrance to the harbour. A favourite pastime for us was watching these comings and going as it was not uncommon for a Balloon to break loose, the Airmen would desperately try to hold on to it and were sometimes carried quite a way into the air before letting go. On a clear day you could watch the balloon rise way up before bursting in the thinner atmosphere. During one of the air raids on the town a bomb landed next to the girls school and it was unsafe to use. With no other suitable buildings available the Girls had to use the Boys school, Boys in the morning and Girls in the afternoon one week then change over the following week, As someone who always thought school got in the way off better things to do life couldn't get much better, that was until one summer when my brother and I were taken up to Norfolk where my father was stationed. Instead of enjoying the pleasures of the Norfolk countryside we found that he had arranged for us to go to school in Thetford the nearest town, to make matters worse, when the Head Teacher learnt that we only went to school for half a day, he offered to give us extra tuition to catch up, we were not amused. Much of the area near the village where we were staying was used by the services for training, one day when we were playing there we found a two inch mortar bomb, having been told these were dangerous we thought it should be handed in, we knew we shouldn't pick it up so found a piece of rope which we tied on to the fins and dragged it some twenty feet or so behind us until we found somewhere to hand it over.
Back in Dartmouth life became even more exciting as preparations for D Day got under way. With nearly 500 ships leaving for Normandy the whole area became one large military base and we youngsters were able to go just where we wanted, as long as we kept our heads down. During the loading of the transport ships the waterfront area was sealed off, people living within the controlled area were given passes. This was no problem us, a friend lived in a house that had its front door within the restricted area and a back door out side, at weekend and after school this became a regular route to watching a piece of history in the making.
True Experience's - Elsie Wills
I was living just outside Exeter when the war started. When I heard the announcement on the radio, I went through to see my next door neighbours and we cried together. At the time, I had one son, Keith, and Robin was born three years after him. My husband was called up one month before Robin was due to be born, and we asked for a deferment until after the birth. However, they refused this, and instead said that he could be given compassionate leave when Robin was born.Later in the war we moved nearer the centre of Exeter and lived within 250 yards of the cathedral I had an evacuee to stay and an elderly lady, Miss Baker, would also come across to be with us at night times. She kept a tuck shop near the school, and I knew her from church. As she was frightened at night she would come across to sleep with us and shared a back room with Peggy Walker, the evacuee. Miss Baker would spend the evening knitting. If she heard a plane overhead she’d stop knitting and undo her stitches. As a result she never seemed to finish what she was knitting. She always dressed in black and wore a black hat. She carried a little case with her, but we never knew what was in it.
We had a Morrison shelter inside the house, but we never used this. Instead, I cleared out the cupboard under the stairs, and as I always turned the gas off if there was a raid, we used a night light. It seemed safer under the stairs as we had observed that in most places that got bombed this was the only place left standing. There was an air raid shelter in our street and in a road of terraced houses it took up a lot of space. However, we didn’t use it as we had heard stories of large groups of people all being killed together in public shelters.
One night the bombs came so quickly, before the siren had even sounded, so we got under the stairs and were there for ages, listening to the loud banging and crashing. When the all-clear sounded I came out from under the stairs to find that all our glass had been blown out and the doors thrown open by the blast. I told the others to stay in the cupboard while I looked round the house. An armchair which I had just had re-covered was embedded with glass. I noticed there were coach loads of people outside. Their hair was all wet, and they had come from the nearby streets which were burning. They were dressed in their nightclothes and were much in need of the toilet and a cup of tea, so I let them file through our house to use our toilet and then we made them all tea. Everywhere all around was lit up with burning and the shops in the city centre were all burnt out.
With the rationing there was a lot of bartering went on. I knew a lady who was always short of cheese for her husband, and I would swap my cheese coupons for her soap ones, so that I could do the children’s washing. Getting shoes for the children was hard and you always had to queue to get Start-Rite. There were shortages of many things but friends always helped each other out. When we went to the shops we’d take our own newspapers for them to wrap things in. We used the pushchair to go and fetch coal which there was always a shortage of.
One evening Robin went missing while I was checking on a neighbour. He was gone for three or four hours and everyone was searching for him. We were really worried. The fire brigade started draining a static tank fearing that he may have fallen into it and drowned. It turned out that two teenage girls who lived on our street had taken him to meet some Americans without telling anyone.
We had a Morrison shelter inside the house, but we never used this. Instead, I cleared out the cupboard under the stairs, and as I always turned the gas off if there was a raid, we used a night light. It seemed safer under the stairs as we had observed that in most places that got bombed this was the only place left standing. There was an air raid shelter in our street and in a road of terraced houses it took up a lot of space. However, we didn’t use it as we had heard stories of large groups of people all being killed together in public shelters.
One night the bombs came so quickly, before the siren had even sounded, so we got under the stairs and were there for ages, listening to the loud banging and crashing. When the all-clear sounded I came out from under the stairs to find that all our glass had been blown out and the doors thrown open by the blast. I told the others to stay in the cupboard while I looked round the house. An armchair which I had just had re-covered was embedded with glass. I noticed there were coach loads of people outside. Their hair was all wet, and they had come from the nearby streets which were burning. They were dressed in their nightclothes and were much in need of the toilet and a cup of tea, so I let them file through our house to use our toilet and then we made them all tea. Everywhere all around was lit up with burning and the shops in the city centre were all burnt out.
With the rationing there was a lot of bartering went on. I knew a lady who was always short of cheese for her husband, and I would swap my cheese coupons for her soap ones, so that I could do the children’s washing. Getting shoes for the children was hard and you always had to queue to get Start-Rite. There were shortages of many things but friends always helped each other out. When we went to the shops we’d take our own newspapers for them to wrap things in. We used the pushchair to go and fetch coal which there was always a shortage of.
One evening Robin went missing while I was checking on a neighbour. He was gone for three or four hours and everyone was searching for him. We were really worried. The fire brigade started draining a static tank fearing that he may have fallen into it and drowned. It turned out that two teenage girls who lived on our street had taken him to meet some Americans without telling anyone.