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Talk of village life in war years, evokes memories
and stories of local heroism and humour galore. Much of the
kaleidoscope of life in those days is measured through the
minds of those who were either school children (of which I
was one) or young adults. Many rural families were self reliant as far as
basic needs were concerned, having gardens, small holdings
and farms to supplement rationed foods. It was from this
background that the local militiamen came. They helped to
man the Home Guard, the ARP and other back- up units, whilst
others were called up to join the forces. Mr George Bailey, our informant on Home Guard
affairs, says that until a year or so had elapsed since the
outbrcak of war in September 1939, Dad's Army was probably a
good term to use to describe the gallant efforts of this
fine body of men. Up until this time pitchforks from the
hayloft, rabbiters' shotguns and any other hatchet type
tools to be found in the average woodshed had to suffice as
defensive weapons in the guarding of strategic points, eg
rail and road bridges and checkpoints at the entrances to
the village. As often happens, to alleviate fear and
uncertainty, wit and humour blossomed, stories appearing in
night duly reports, for instance, noted a suspected enemy
submarine spotted off Officers of the ranks, too, were not without their moments — Lt. Jack Sherry naturally wanting a 'good show' on the auspicious occasion of Top Brass dropping in, readily agreed to administer' spit and polish' and Brasso to buttons on the uniform of a recalcitrant colleague. I'll bet they all cottoned on to that one eventually if the truth got out!
The ARP patrol (Air Raid Precautions) played an
important part too, being in line with the coastal approach
of enemy aircraft making for industrial targets in the
Air raid shelters came in a variety of types. When
at school we would be hastily marched across to a long
trench dug in the grounds of the Vicarage, (now Montrose)
when the siren blew. At home a dug-out in a large ditch with
water running under the floor, which was made of old chicken
houses, served three families. The roof wasof corrugated
iron and was packed with earth clods. Whilst in residence we
shared safety with snails, mice and all sorts of creepy
crawl ies. As youngsters there was novelty about much that
occured for the war effort, as with picking and collecting
of hundredweights of blackberries, hips from the hedgerows
and acorns for the pigs. There were excited excursions on
bikes to see the occasional aircraft crash out in the
country, most notably a Luftwaffe Focke shot down on the
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