Morecambe was very much a backwater during World War Two.
I was born in Liverpool in 1934 and after a short stay in Blackpool where my sister Pat was born we ended up living in a railway carriage in Watsons Avenue, which ran along side Woodhill football pitch where Geoffrey was added to the family. Sometime after our move to Morecambe, Dad legged it and joined the Army. He kept his real name and birth details so Mum was able later to trace him.
My first day at school, September 1939, was eventful because at the very first playtime at the Infants class at Euston Road School I climbed the gate and went home. The furore that this caused - a missing child! marked me as a disruptive child!
In the afternoon we would lie on a blanket in the Assembly hall and have a nap. WW2 started for me during one of these naps. The Siren howled. Our teacher shepherded us into two rows in the corridor and said that we should hold on tight to each other. Clasping our Gasmasks in the other free hand we crossed the playground and entered the jaws of the Air Shelter. By paraffin light we struggled to don our gasmasks.
The next Alarm we put on our masks in the classroom and then made our way to safety. Even now the sound of a siren in a film fills me with dread.
On Friday afternoons, I think, we played musical instruments. I played the triangle but desperately wanted to have a go on the drum played by Billy? Finally one day I managed to grab the drum before he did. Tears from Billy! Miss told me to give it to him! Why? He has a poorly leg you stupid child. Billy had a leg iron, Polio or Rickets. At playtime later I was met by Billy chanting Stupid child, Stupid child! So I bashed him. My departure from Euston Road School was swift!
At about this time we moved to the top flat in Greenock House in Back Euston Road owned by the Scotch Wool Shop. Mum worked as a Porter at Heysham Docks. She started early and came home late and so started my stint as a surrogate parent! My new School was the National at Poulton, next to the Parish church. Poor Pat, who had done nothing wrong, came with me to the National. Mum would get me up as she left, breakfast was prepared the night before, so I only had to get Pat and Geoffrey washed and dressed and set off for school. When we came home we had a Jam sandwich - turnip and plum! - and a cup of water so easily done. Winter we had dripping on our bread! Geoffrey had left the Nursery near Sparrow Park and now went to the one in Clark Street, the Congregational church. I think that it is where the Rainbow club are at present. Pat met a new friend who lived on our way so I left her to make her way with Pamela! The name has just come back! Taking Geoffrey to the Nursery ensued that unless I was near the head of the Queue I ended up being late at the National. After many warnings the Head, a very large man make that Male, decided that I would be made a warning to other latecomers. I now think that he must have got some sort of pleasure out of it! This must have been about 1941 and Mum had a disaster. She lost her handbag with all her money and Ration books in it. Somehow Father Clayton heard about it, the Hains next door were RC so maybe they told him. Once again we changed school, and religion! We had attended the Salvation Army Citadel before! My first teacher, Miss Walmsley, an angel, understood about Geoffrey and the Nursery and marked me on time. School became a joyous place! Friday afternoon was the highlight of the week because; Miss W. would read to us a chapter from first King Solomons mines and later Prester John. My love of the beauty of the English language came from her.
For the first time we heard the church bells ring out. Victory at El Alamein!It was explained to us that the RC were not allowed to ring bells, only the Protestants. So three of us decided, I do not know why it was the Parish church but we would show defiance! Miss Evans got her cane and went berserk! I hold no truck with those who said that they were caned and it did no harm. They either were not or not often! I was often naughty so a ruler behind the knee, twisting my ear - a variation! - or caning on the hand or bottom was the means of instilling in me an understanding that small children were sacred! All except Miss Walmsley who taught us the power of love. Inside me dwells an abiding horror of violence - Me! The one who bashed a boy with a poorly leg! - of its effects so in some way it did do some good!
How people can think that by inflicting hurt upon children is somehow a good thing escapes me.
Against the west wall of the school we had small plots of ground, about 4' x 4', in which we grew Lettuce and radish. I ate my first and last radish from this plot! I remember sowing the seeds, watching them germinate but never the harvest! May be the Summer Holidays was the reason.
Going back to those days are odd memories, single episodes not linked to others much like currants in a cake, separate but part of the whole! I shall just have to jot them down and beg your indulgence!
Mum came home with a parcel. Great excitement! The parcel had a US Flag. Underneath it two hands clasped together and, in large letters, A gift from The American Railway Union, Geoffrey and I got an overcoat and boots and Pat a Knitted doll, a warm wool dress as well as a coat. We still had the wrapping when I left to join the Army! At school we had at least two lots of gifts of food from the US and once, from Australia, a cake each the size of a tea plate. It seemed that those three cakes lasted us for tea on a Sunday till the end of the war!
One day whilst playing on the Promenade we saw a dogfight between German bombers and British fighters in Morecambe Bay over towards Grange. Only dots in the sky but talked it for about for ages.
Over West end bridge, on both sides, were allotments. Men would appear in the evenings and tend their Pride and joy. I used to collect what they threw away and plant it in my tiny, illegal, plot by the ditch.
Geoffrey one day wandering around the sitting room in just his vest sat on the Iron hob of the gas fire, which Mum had just turned off! She gathered him up and ran to the Queen Vic. As I write I can still hear him screaming! This small gas fire was our only source of heating but Mums entreaties to the Scotch Wool shop caused them to put in a coal fire. We would wander down the railway lines where the Level crossings were on the way to Heysham and collect coal that had fallen off the tenders. Odd times we were chased away by the Signalman
Summer started with new crepe-soled sandals from Woolworths! In summer it only seemed to rain when we were indoors! We played from sun up to sun down with never a care. We hunted Spies on the Stone Jetty inside the cavernous halls below the Lighthouse. Captured the sheriffs men in Sherwood Forest, The Town Hall Grounds and imprisoned them in the Zig Zag, the Town Hall Air raid shelter. Climbed the Tower Garden rear wall to collect Conkers. This was Very risky! If caught, we were never; you ended up at the Police Station. Went to the Baulks to grab fish before the fishermen arrived. Walked to Warton crag to collect Hazel nuts, pinched apples and pears from the orchard next to Bare Lane Railway Station, pinched Strawberries from the allotment alongside Poulton hall. Once we walked to Heysham Head to try to sneak in from the shore side. Having no luck we continued along the coast climbed the barbed wire and started playing soccer with a tennis ball. Next minute soldiers who got the hump because we were playing on their minefield grabbed us. While confined in the bunker awaiting the police we sat next to their two 8" guns, two telegraph poles!!!!
One Saturday we were told that we could get points for our arrows at the back of the Midland Hotel. These were Hypo needles that had been put in the dustbins. We did not find any but when we looked over the wall at the East end to see if there were any there we got an awful shock. Sitting in Deck Chairs were men in Pyjamas with no hands or faces! We just ran off!
When Mum was at home she wanted us close by so we played in Tunstall Street, told to clear off if we were too noisy, at Tin can lerky, hide and seek, even girls games such as See I haven't got it and Hop scotch. Girls were funny creatures, they spent hours and hours just skipping and throwing two balls against a wall.
Winter saw the wearing of clogs. I often used to go and sit with the Cobbler, he used a file not a hammer to drive home the studs! and listen to his radio. Ice on the insides of the windows, newspaper squashed into the gaps, newspaper laid between the blankets, sitting on the hot water pipes at school and thawing out our free milk at playtime! We were ALWAYS cold. In the early days we three slept together in the one bed. One day Mum said that Pat could no longer bathe and sleep with Geoffrey and I. Pat cried for days! Often she would creep out and sleep with us until Mum caught her!
Winters games were different, the best was Ice hockey on the boating pool on the Stone jetty. The puck a polish tin and our sticks were just sticks! We would play soccer at the back of the Swimming Stadium for hours with an old leather Tee Case found on the beach. Dried out, dubbined and loose panels stitched by my cobbler friend. A repair kit from Woolies kept the inner going for two years!
I found an abandoned pram in the dyke over West End Bridge. I dragged it home, told my cobbler friend about it and he said he would help me make a wheelbarrow. I found a broken fish box in the tip at Euston Road Railway station so with a potato sack, which had more holes than a colander I ended up as a businessman! From then on, every Saturday, I met the trains at both stations. My customers were mainly RAF airmen. I would cart their kitbags, sometimes as many as 7, to Woolworths on the Prom and then to the billets they had been assigned. Sometimes on my way back to the Prom station I would be hailed and carry kitbags to Littlewoods and then back to their billets again. I never knew the significance of this. Some of the Airmen were less than honest and paid me with an Italian coin very similar to a florin. Mum put them in the gas meter!
About Spring 1943 was a big army exercise. Lorry loads of soldiers appeared to the right of the Central pier. Seen by Monty Banks who lived on Nelson Street. The Home Guard paraded on the Market car Park where we were playing. We followed them up to British Legion where all hell was let loose! The soldiers had crackers tied to their rifles, which they let off by pulling a piece of string. Smoke bombs were let off and whistles were being blown all over the place. When it was all over we found loads of paper bags with cheese and corned beef sandwiches in them and quite a lot of paper wrapped boiled sweets. These were taken home! I think that Mum sold our Sweet Ration on the Black Market so this was the first time that we had tasted toffees! All our play after that was Soldiers! About this time we started to see American Soldiers of whom quite a lot were Black. They were always very kind to us and gave us Candy and Chewing Gum in strips! I think that they came in Coaches and that they parked on the Market Car Park
On Saturday Mum used to send me to the Paper shop at the top of Pedder Street to get the Daily Herald. The Headline, Hitler is Dead, was nearly the end of it all. We listened to Mr. Churchills speech and watched Mum cry. I then went out and started collecting stuff from Harry Woods for the bonfire to the East of the Public Lavatories on the Prom. In the evening I watched the people singing and dancing round the fire! Everyone was so happy except me! There on top of the bonfire burning merrily away was my buggy!!! A Sgt. came over when I tried to pull it off and asked what I was doing. When I explained that it was my livelihood he went round and made a collection for me. About £27 and odd pence! I was grateful but my replacement buggies were not as good as my original one. The wheels had plastic centres and kept on breaking. Very soon after the ladies of Tunstall Street put out chairs and long tables, put sheets over them and we had a party!
