Chapter 5 - Evacuation part 3

Guildford
Wandsworth Technical School was, I believe, correctly known as Wandsworth Technical Institute, Junior Technical School and they were evacuated to Guildford and shared accommodation in the County Technical College in Stoke Park. To its students, it was of course 'Wandsworth Prison'.

The staff were, generally speaking, excellent in that they all knew their subject matter, there were no 'odd bods' filling in for the duration and they all seemed to enjoy the work. The general objective was to teach the principles of engineering to the future intake into local (Wandsworth) industry. This aim was achieved by a general grounding in Mathematics, Geometric Drawing, Machine Drawing, Metalwork, Chemistry, Physics, English, History and Geography.

The induction that I received led me to believe that we would draw a pattern in Geometric Drawing, make it during Woodwork and then cast it and then machine the casting during Metalwork. If there were any shortcomings in these objectives they were due entirely to the war and to the additional educational requirements such as English and Physical Training.

I believe that there were 8 schools sharing the premises and, for example, the Gymnasium was in great demand. We, more often than not, took our P E periods in the Guildford Lido. Mr 'Bomber' Browning (named after his world war 1 service) took us for Geography and also for P E but was better known, and respected, for his leadership in being the first to dive in and then tell us whether the water was too cold. I have seen 'Bomber' break the ice on the Lido on many occasions. If the water was too cold for swimming then we would do the physical training appropriate to the Bronze Medallion, using the grassy play area alongside the pool.

I was first billeted with Mr and Mrs Dawes at Merrow, only a relatively short walk from school. They originally came from Yorkshire and I learnt the Yorkshire habit of eating Yorkshire pudding as a first course from them. He was the Chief Draughtsman at a local engineering company and was a very good conversationalist, especially on technical matters. Mrs Dawes Looked after me like a mother and got me a job helping the baker on his Saturday round. The Dawes's house was close to the Downs where there was an Italian Prisoner of War Camp. We frequently walked across the Downs and one day, a lorry arrived back at the Camp with prisoners who had been working on a local farm. The first prisoner jumped down off the lorry and the guard handed down his rifle for the prisoner to hold. A lady, seeing this, asked, I say, isn't that rather dangerous, handing that prisoner your rifle?" To which he replied,  "No madam, it's alright, you see, we don't carry any bullets."

After a while Mrs Dawes, who was rather delicate, found me another billet. I moved to Stoughton and lived with Mr and Mrs Hardy and their daughter Gillian. One of my classmates, Ian French, lived next door and life went on. Both Mr and Mrs Hardy worked at Dennis Ltd who, in peace-time made buses, lorries and dust carts etc but who were now making tanks. The employees guarded that secret as if their lives depended on their silence. It is quite likely that the security personnel convinced the employees that they, and the factory, would be the first target. In any case, the locals never referred to activities at Dennis.

The route home from school passed the Co-op abattoir and I invariably stopped to watch the butchers at work. The sight of animals being killed did not bother me and I was able to obtain the eyes of bulls for C P Davis, who took us for Physics. The use of a real eye seemed completely relevant in our study of light and lenses. Mr Thompson taught Chemistry and, in introducing us to explosive mixtures, told the story of one of his predecessors who held a gas jar filled with air up to the Bunsen burner flame and there was, as expected, no reaction. He then held a gas jar filled with petrol vapour up to the flame, this time with little reaction as the vapour flared. The final test was to hold a gas jar filled with a mixture of petrol vapour and air up to the flame. There was a loud 'bang' and it was thus demonstrated that the petrol/air mixture was the most effective because the bottom of the gas jar was blown clean through the blackboard. Unfortunately, his personal demonstration resulted in a mere 'pop'.

B J Davis taught Mathematics in the first two years and, apart from using his pipe to beat a tattoo on the skull of any unfortunate who failed to pay attention, was not memorable. I cannot remember the name of the English teacher but he also, at no small personal expense, taught us to play chess. His love of poetry led to me learning the Hardy poem 'The Pity Of It' of which I can still remember quite a large portion and which I quote here, together with another Hardy poem which I learnt at the same time. Both poems were written during World War 1 and 'The Pity Of It' refers to the fact that the people of Wessex use such expressions as, 'Thu bist', etc which are of German origin.


 * The Pity Of It
 * I walked in loamy Wessex lanes, afar
 * From rail-track and from highway, and I heard
 * In field and farmstead many an ancient word
 * Of local lineage like 'Thu bist', 'Er war',


 * 'Ich woll', 'Er sholl', and by-talk similar,
 * Nigh as they speak who in this month's moon gird
 * At England's very loins, thereunto spurred
 * By gangs whose glory threats and slaughters are.


 * Then seemed a heart crying: 'Whosoever they be
 * At root and bottom of this, who flung this flame
 * Between kin folk even as are we,


 * Sinister, ugly, lurid be their fame;
 * May their familiars grow to shun their name,
 * And their brood perish everlastingly.'
 * Thomas Hardy, April 1915


 * In Time Of 'The Breaking Of Nations'
 * I
 * Only a man harrowing clods
 * In a slow silent walk
 * With an old horse that stumbles and nods
 * Half asleep as they stalk.


 * II
 * Only thin smoke without flame
 * From the heaps of couch-grass
 * Yet this will go onward the same
 * Though dynasties pass.


 * III
 * Yonder a maid and her wight
 * Come whispering by:
 * War's annuls will cloud into night
 * Ere their story die.


 * Thomas Hardy, 1915

The Hardy family, meaning of course the family with whom I was billeted, had a relation who lived nearby and who bred Alsations. The walking of puppies gave me great pleasure but the weekly invitation to Sunday tea, being followed by a session on the piano and listening to 'ITMA' with Tommy Handley were the real highlights of the week, socially speaking. Not that my piano playing could be classed as any more than 'one finger twiddling' but I could pick out most popular melodies and this seemed to be what was the order of the day.

My position in class improved dramatically now that, to use an expression from the 1944 Education Act, called the Butler Act, I was being educated according to my age, ability and aptitude. The motivation to maintain progress was that the homework marks were all totalled and weighted out of 5O. The termly examination result was also weighted out of 50 and added to give a mark for the end of term report. The total from each term was then added to give a yearly total, weighted out of 50, to which the end of year examination mark, again weighted out of 50 was added to give the total for the end of year report. At the end of the third (final) year the figures were again weighted with the end examination results to give a final total. This final total decided the 'Leaving Certificate' earned by the pupil. I was somewhat annoyed to be given a Second Class Certificate, having scored 69%, when the mark for a First Class Certificate was only 1% higher at 7O%.

During my second year Mrs Hardy became pregnant and it was decided that I should move so that there would be room for the new offspring. I was moved to a nearby street to live with Mr and Mrs Edwards and their daughter Denise, usually called by her nickname 'Dizzy Lou Lou'. After a short time I became known as 'The Everlasting Torment' owing to the fact that I teased her.

In February 1944 I was called to Dr Lewis's study and told to take a few days off as my Father had died. We had seen Dad during Christmas holidays but I never did feel that I knew him well, having been separated at the age of 10, with the early years meeting him virtually once a week. His funeral was held at St Clements and Dad was interred at Sheen cemetery.

Mr Edwards was Edward Edwards and was therefore obviously called 'Eddy'. He was an Accountant until drafted into the Police and stationed at Godstone. This meant that he could often get home at the weekend. His routine varied according to the needs of his employer, both in terms of Police duty and his pre-war employer for whom he still did some accounting work. The point was that we could never be sure if 'Eddy' was coming home, and at what time. If he came by 'bus we could never be sure of the time of arrival of the 'bus. However, Barry, the family pet Labrador, an otherwise seemingly ordinary dog, would know instinctively when 'Eddy' was on his way and would look out of the front room window and, with excited tail wagging, would tell us of the anticipated arrival. 'Eddy' was still not in sight but Barry was infallible.

Mrs Edwards's father lived at Ryde, Isle of Wight and she called him a spiritualist. The incidents in which he was involved very many and varied but I well remember one occasion on which he telephoned on Thusday evening to say that 'Eddy' was coming home for the weekend. Nobody could be certain, not even 'Eddy'. He went on to say that 'Eddy' would be using the car, part of the deal with his pre-war employer for doing some accounting work during the weekend (not arranged until the Friday) Mrs Edwards's father then went on to advise caution because we were likely to have a minor accident. Both Mr and Mrs Edwards scoffed at the idea and we took the intended Sunday picnic and went out. Earlier that week there had been an accident at Newlands Corner when an Amerinan Army lorry had been driving on the wrong side of the road and this made 'Eddy' somewhat more cautious. As he negotiated a sharp bend a tyre suffered a 'blow out'.

Another point worthy of note was the fact that Mrs Edwards had a cousin, Captain Dinsdale, who was a Dental Officer stationed at Stoughton Barracks, a short walk down the road. He, Uncle Reg, generally referred to as 'Reggie' was a more or less weekly visitor and enjoyed a game of cribbage. He also hosted us on visits to see entertainments at the Camp.

Following obvious build up of troops and equipment along the A3, D-Day came as no real surprise and the inevitable result led to our return to Wandsworth. Towards the end of the war I had been going home for the week-end every week and it was something of a relief not to travel so much. I had regularly swindled Southern Railway for some time, by purchasing a return ticket from London Road, (Guildford) to Clandon, on Friday afternoon and a return from Waterloo to Charing Cross on Monday morning. This worked until an Inspector was posted on Clandon Station to ensure that all tickets were punched one Monday morning and I was caught. The outcome was that since this was my first (known) offence, I was given a warning on payment of the excess fare. More sophisticated methods were used by my classmate, Tony Allnut and myself after that.

During the many trips home at weekends and holidays there were some incidents with 'Doodle Bugs' worth recalling here. The first was when we spotted some Spitfires chasing 'Doodle Bugs' and ran up to the top floor of the flats (4th) to get a better view of the 'wing stalling' technique. One Spitfire dived to gain speed and then climbed up close under the wing of the 'Doodle Bug', thus spoiling its lift. We were still on the top floor when a second 'Doodle Bug' came into view, pursued by a Mosquito. Of course, the 'Mossie' was able to catch the 'Doodle Bug' in level flight and we watched with glee as the 'Mossie' blew it up in mid air.

On another occasion I was going down to have lunch with the Cavalier family, had just entered their front door and was pushing it shut when a 'Doodle Bug' landed in Blythe Road, some quarter of a mile away. The resulting explosion threw me across the hall and I landed against the wall with the back of my head exactly between two coat hooks. There is little doubt that an inch either way could have proved fatal. The last of the 'Doodle Bug' incidents occurred one night when we were sleeping at the Cavaliers' flat and there were about six of us asleep in one room when the 'Doodle Bug' landed on one of the Air Raid Shelters in the courtyard of a Lewis Trust building next door. It is very sad to relate that a number of people were killed but my first knowledge of the fact that anything had happened was when Jean Cavalier, to keep clear of the broken window glass which covered the floor, as if such caution was to any avail, stepped up to bed level and I woke to find myself being trampled on. I have always been a heavy sleeper!

Virtually every window in the whole block of flats was broken and a layer of glass covered the whole courtyard. All the available manpower in the way of tenants, families etc turned out to sweep up the glass and the Council quickly set to work to effect temporary repairs. The blast blew our front door in, blew open the sitting room door, and the following suction pulled the curtains off the window, draped them over the door and then slammed it shut. The damage amazed me. For example the sheds all had heavy, wooden doors and were protected by a heavy brick wall between Lewis Trust and Burne Jones House. This offered minimal protection as the majority of the shed doors were severely damaged, mostly by suction.

The V2 menace was frightening but we were not affected personally by these weapons and we did not allow them to halt the normal process of living. My biggest fright during the war occurred one evening when we had all moved in with the Cavalier family for the night and 'Jimmy' and I had gone back upstairs to collect something. Suddenly there was the most terrific explosion. 'Jimmy' looked at me and said that I was looking very white. I then told him that he had turned green. I have never before, or since, seen anybody look such a ghastly colour. The cause was a mobile gun which had stopped outside the flats in order to fire a round.

Previous: Chapter 4 - Evacuation part 2 Next: Chapter 6 - Home Again