I Remember .... Chapter One

Chapter One
Teignmouth (1938-1942) — My early recollections
In 1938, when I was 14 years old, I heard on the radio our then Prime Minister, Neville Chamberlain returning from Germany, leaving an aircraft and waving an agreement that terms had been agreed with Adolf Hitler, that it was peace. Many elderly people doubted this so-called pact. Black clouds were visible. In the meantime, England sat back and yet there was an air of urgency. Plans were put into effect for civilians to be issued with a gas mask or respirator. The Territorial Army (a voluntary trained force) was mobilized. It was Hitler's intention to annex Poland, but we, in England stood by the Poles. We had given Poland an assurance we would defend her borders. Our country had a year's extension, but war clouds were gathering and the threat became more than apparent. Nazi Germany, under Hitler, was rearming fast. On 3rd September 1939, German troops had crossed into Poland, preceded by heavy bombing of the cities and towns with aircraft. I had been to chapel at Teignmouth that morning and it was announced by the preacher that as no reply had been received from Germany at 11am, we had honoured our pledge to Poland and were now at war. We sung ' God save the King'. On leaving chapel, several of us, boys and girls congregated under the Drum Clock in the centre of Teignmouth and made speculations about our families, especially elder brothers and sisters joining up in the Services.

The mobilization of our Armed Forces (the army, territorials, navy and air force) was speedy and they crossed over to the Continent. France had prepared a fortified concrete line along the NE border with Germany, known as the Maginot line. It was obvious that Germany had been rearming and had thousands of men, under Hitler's command, intent on taking the whole of the Continent. Our Army - the British Expedition Force, as it was known, was occupied in holding Belgium and Holland and instead of attacking the Maginot Line fortifications, Hitler's forces moved down through the Low Countries, Belgium and Holland to northern France. Eventually, our troops retreated under orders, against a formidable force of bombers, dive-bombers and tanks to the coast of France at Dunkirk. It was here that there was such a disaster for the Allies.

My home was Teignmouth, on the South Devon coast. Every available vessel, motor boat and even small rowing boat was taken in tow from there and elsewhere to assist in the operation to evacuate the troops from the beaches and ferry them to bigger naval vessels in the English Channel, back to England, beginning 4 June 1940. Acts of great bravery were performed and by a miraculous feat, some 338,000 men were saved, although we had lost thousands of men and most of their equipment. Mind you, those that were evacuated, had only what they stood up in. If Hitler had sent a few thousand men across to England, we would have capitulated. Nevertheless, the determination of our countrymen, hailed by the then Prime Minister, Winston Churchill's speech in the House of Commons, after the Dunkirk evacuation 'We shall defend our island, whatever the cost may be……we shall never surrender,’ gave the country a solid determination to resist and exist.

Being on the coastline, Teignmouth was virtually our Front Line defence. Returning from France, the troops, downtrodden, unkempt, tired and weary were placed (billeted) in the seafront hotels and large houses. Others were billeted in private houses. A shamble indeed, but we had, overnight, become the Home Front; only the Channel separated us from the Nazi Army — a formidable, frightening thought! Up to then, we had had the occasional air raid warning but we were now ‘with our backs to the wall’. The cookhouse was at the Bowling Green by the pier. The troops were paraded daily on the Green and marched off to the various points for guard duties. To aid defence, prominent buildings were sandbagged. Rolls of barbed wire frames about 15 feet high were erected on the beach, seafront and the sea wall, alongside the railway line. Machine gun placements were dug into the cliffs, guarding the entrance to the harbour and a larger gun situated at the mouth of the river gave some form of assurance that if anyone did attack, we would be ready. Additionally, pill boxes were built (usually round with slots to enable the occupants to fire out through the slits) at strategic places. Both the evacuated troops and local people helped with the defences. The older men joined the Home Guard. This was a civilian army but if it was called upon to make a ‘last stand’, there were only shot guns and pikes with little armament. Many served in the First World War and knew how to fire a rifle but they were in short supply. If the Germans had crossed the Channel, they would easily have taken our country, such was our dreadful position but we were determined to resist.

With daylight aircraft attacks over the coast and Channel, vapour trails could be seen and the occasional machine fire was heard. Hitler's bombers attacked our cities at night; London, Coventry and others too numerous to list, but close to home, of course, Exeter and Plymouth. In the meantime, the country was building up its forces. Our shipping lanes, with the Merchant Navy and naval vessels, were attacked by German submarines and large cruisers, resulting in substantial losses, including imports. As a result, there was a shortage of clothes, food and other commodities, so rationing was introduced. Food rationing meant 2 ozs of butter/margarine, 4ozs of sugar and 6ozs of meat per person, per week. Furthermore, as food became scarce, a campaign was started to encourage us to grow more home-grown produce. Posters were displayed with the words 'Dig for victory'! As my dad had a large garden, I kept at it, often turning ground with the moon - the village lantern!

At this stage, I ought to have mentioned earlier, on the outbreak of war, children were evacuated from London and other cities. The ‘evacuees’, as they were known, were assembled at a given point and sent in batches to less vulnerable areas in the country. Hundreds arrived by rail to Teignmouth, many in only the clothes they stood up in, plus a shoulder bag containing a gas mask. The Women's Voluntary Services and other local people, greeted them in the railway station yard, where they were allocated foster homes. The Haberdasher Girls' School in London was also evacuated to Teignmouth. Of course, we boys didn't mind! The evacuees came to Sunday School and on one occasion, my dad, who was the secretary, a man of 20 stone, had one little chap come up to him and Dad put his hand on the top of his head and beneath his corporation, the littte chap said in a cockney accent, "Ain't you a bloody size, guvner!" Some evacuees had never seen the sea before and others enjoyed the countryside.
On the other hand, Teignmouth was not a safe haven. It received a number of 'hit and run' German aircraft, flying in low over the sea, in an attempt to cut the railway line and destroy the naval boat yard at Morgan Giles’, Shaldon Bridge. In fact, their bombs did not go down horizontally but more torpedo fashion into the area above the docks and near the railway cutting. As a result of these raids, which caused many deaths, some evacuees returned home. In all, Teignmouth had 22 separate raids, many during the day.

I have started my recollections when I was 14, having just left school (West Lawn, Teignmouth). My father was a small greengrocer businessman. At that time, I got up about 8 am to visit the dairy, to purchase a pint of skimmed milk for 1½d (pre-decimal currency, worth less than today's 1p). This was followed by a visit to the newsagent, to collect a daily paper to deliver to our history teacher, who gave me 1d a week. Then I did my Dad's order round; often to deliver a cabbage valued 1½d, some one and a half miles away! I then went to my first job, starting at 9.30am, as a clerk, in a solicitor's office. I learnt typing and was a cheap receptionist for clients. It was a musty, indoor affair and I was paid ten shillings a week.

As previously mentioned, Teignmouth was a vulnerable town. Fortunately, the Germans did not come but enemy bombing continued unabated and our cities became ruins. My home was scorched on many occasions. Every available person, including the Civil Defence (trained civilians) maintained the broken water mains and fractured gas pipes and gave first aid to damaged properties and unblocked roads. Life went on and we were rebuilding our strength to eventually return to the Continent. We maintained a strict ‘blackout’. As I worked in the solicitor’s office in the main street, a fire watching section was formed, in the event of any incendiary bombs being dropped. Our post was in the town, with our advantage viewing point on top of the Rivera Cinema, just short of the pier. The manager of the office lived in Exeter, so I did two night duty tours a week. From the top of the cinema, one could look up the River Teign at Shaldon Bridge, towards Newton Abbot, Dartmoor and south towards the coastline; an excellent advantage point. Enemy planes often crossed over head on their way to Plymouth, south Wales’ towns and other destinations. One night, on fire-watching duty on the roof, we heard planes going to Plymouth. This city was being blitzed repeatedly. Several bombs fell that night on Teignmouth too. One plane dropped a stick of high explosives not far away. I was frightened believe me! I made for the exit from the roof, some fifty concrete steps down to ground level, in fear and with the blast from the bombs; I swear I never touched a step, unhurt, to be told by the area chief air raid warden, my place was up on the roof! I promptly told him I would rather die on the ground!

I also did telephone control beneath the present Teignmouth Council Offices at Bitton Park, with my friend, Ron Churchill, answering the phone to air raid warning messages which were given by coloured warnings. We trembled with fear on getting a ‘red’ alert which was the immediate danger call and often received as the enemy planes passed over us! On receipt of such a call from Region, we had to telephone certain numbers to contact personnel (air raid wardens, Home Guard etc), resulting in eventually getting many others to the post - mostly elderly men, some who were very dotardly!

I recollect one fine summer’s morning, when Ron and I had finished at 6am, we decided to have an early swim. We went down the slipway and squeezed through the barbed wire into the sea. Suddenly, there was quite a lot of activity. Seeing us in the sea, two special constables, the Fraser brothers, at the pier came to investigate. Fortunately, the panic was called off, as they knew my Dad, though some thought the Germans had landed!

Food rationing was strictly enforced. We had a booklet with coupons about the size of a stamp which we gave up to the grocer weekly for our 2ozs of butter, sugar, cheese, eggs etc. I often spent my evenings helping Mr Morgan to count them up and pin them, as he had to make a return to the Food Ministry to be allocated fresh supplies. In the meantime, it was a question of survival, especially as the Japanese had entered the war and had quickly overpowered our Forces, in part of our Empire - Burma and were also threatening India. Our Empire, at that time, covered nearly a third of the earth's surface and the German and Italian troops moved across the Mediterranean to Africa. Hitler turned on Russia. The whole world was in conflict. My Dad suggested that I try and get into the police and in 1941, I became a junior clerk telephonist. I passed a test and started at Torquay Police Station, then in Market Street, in July. I was in 'digs' in Torquay, and received £1.68 a week and a day off a week The manager of the solicitor's office had given me £2 and I kept going on this, until I had a rise when I became 18 in December. If the air raid warning sounded, I had to report to the station. If there had been any bombing, I took over the telephone and the line was always busy. Police officers were sent out to bomb incidents, to take control and to evacuate people from the area. Torquay Police at that time, had one car. Policemen got around on pedal cycles or walked. I had to get a pass to go home. I frequently walked from Torquay to Teignmouth, a round trip of 14 miles and could hear explosions and automatic fire in the Channel, from the coastal road. In the meantime, my school chums had been called up into one of the three Services to go our separate ways.

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