|
World War 2 Scrapbook Bill Cooper December 2016 The Second World War defined the lives of people who experienced it and the evolution of the village. Yet it was a horrific event that residents tried to put behind them and blot out from their memory. Bill Cooper was a young man at that time and he recalls the horror of the times that he witnessed. Right: The remains of a World War 2 pillbox still exists in the Millennium Woods (courtesy Carol Payne). The Box Tunnel pillbox had some 6 inches of turf on its roof to blend it into Quarry Hill behind. |
|
I have just read the article you have by Janice Cannings. The bit about the Italian Prisoners of war walking about the village in odd uniforms with large patches is very much as I remember. Also her mum’s anxieties about her daughter's welfare. Janice was there at the time and her brother Bob was chief of our gang !
Onset of War
At the outbreak of war, there was considerable construction activity in the Rudloe area, building what became known as the Corsham Dump. Around the clock, the village was the route for as many as twenty beaten-up old buses, full of Irish labourers.
The buses ferryied them from Bath to the site and back. There was an unofficial rumour, on the street, that many beds in Bath were never cold!! All this activity ended after about a year.
A 6 year-old lad, David Burroughs, was knocked down and killed by a military vehicle outside his front garden opposite the old tennis club. The village, especially the school, was completely stunned ... on reflection, I still am.
At the outbreak of war, there was considerable construction activity in the Rudloe area, building what became known as the Corsham Dump. Around the clock, the village was the route for as many as twenty beaten-up old buses, full of Irish labourers.
The buses ferryied them from Bath to the site and back. There was an unofficial rumour, on the street, that many beds in Bath were never cold!! All this activity ended after about a year.
A 6 year-old lad, David Burroughs, was knocked down and killed by a military vehicle outside his front garden opposite the old tennis club. The village, especially the school, was completely stunned ... on reflection, I still am.
Wartime Village
Whenever I see pictures of the Western Portal of the tunnel, my memory recalls that there was a pill-box on the Quarry Hillside, dead centre, which was manned day and night. It was a professional job with sides sand-bagged and soil embankments.
This stayed in place until the late fifties.
There were many troops about the village, hence the need for a canteen in the village which was open most evenings of the week in the Bingham Hall. It was all organised by the Women's Voluntary Service, an off-shoot of the Women's Institute.
Living in Chapel Lane, I can recall lying in bed and hearing the strains of Vera Lynn singing Yours and We’ll Meet Again – top of the pops of the time! There were many concerts in the Bingham Hall both by a touring Entertainment National Service Association and also an amateur drama group by the RAF from Rudloe.
Early on in the war, the fear of an airborne Invasion was countered by placing blocks of stone on open green flattish areas.
One example was Kingsdown Golf Course and several large fields towards Colerne.
As time wore on, double British Summer-time was implemented as well as extended school summer holidays for help in the picking up and bagging of the numerous potatoes that had to be planted. Many front gardens were planted with potatoes rather than lawns and almost every household kept chickens for eggs and sometimes for luncheon!
Whenever I see pictures of the Western Portal of the tunnel, my memory recalls that there was a pill-box on the Quarry Hillside, dead centre, which was manned day and night. It was a professional job with sides sand-bagged and soil embankments.
This stayed in place until the late fifties.
There were many troops about the village, hence the need for a canteen in the village which was open most evenings of the week in the Bingham Hall. It was all organised by the Women's Voluntary Service, an off-shoot of the Women's Institute.
Living in Chapel Lane, I can recall lying in bed and hearing the strains of Vera Lynn singing Yours and We’ll Meet Again – top of the pops of the time! There were many concerts in the Bingham Hall both by a touring Entertainment National Service Association and also an amateur drama group by the RAF from Rudloe.
Early on in the war, the fear of an airborne Invasion was countered by placing blocks of stone on open green flattish areas.
One example was Kingsdown Golf Course and several large fields towards Colerne.
As time wore on, double British Summer-time was implemented as well as extended school summer holidays for help in the picking up and bagging of the numerous potatoes that had to be planted. Many front gardens were planted with potatoes rather than lawns and almost every household kept chickens for eggs and sometimes for luncheon!
The Bath Chronicle's pamphlet issued at that time in defiance to Hitler's bombardment of Bath (courtesy Eric Callaway)
|
When Bath was blitzed in April 1942, there was a further influx of evacuees from there, all waiting until their damaged houses were adjudged fit for habitation. One pal of mine was Ray Rummings, who was billeted with the Rawlings family (my aunts) at Vallens Terrace. He returned to Bath later in the school year. Immediately following the Bath blitz, the gas supply was non-existent for about a week before it was restored. Thereafter at peak times, the pressure was very low and some additional boosting measure was provided for business but not private dwellings!
This did not escape the notice of Benny Drew who spotted a niche in the market for chickens and turkeys the following Christmas. I personally recall going along to collect our family dinner for the 2.45pm time slot and paying six old pence (2½ p now) alongside a dozen other families. |
I remember one Sunday in November 1942, following the decisive victory at El Alamein, which was the first success for the Allies against the Axis powers for over a year. We all stood outside Box Church after the thanksgiving service listening to the bells.
This was most unusual because of the national bell curfew. The bells would have been rung by Les Hinton.
Around 1942, there was a huge military funeral at the cemetery, salute fired etc., where German airmen were buried with full military honours. The Black German crosses stayed in place until presumably, the war graves commission excavated and returned them to Germany in the late 1950s.
Life at Box School
Gas masks were distributed nationally by nominated Air Raid Wardens on a street-by-street basis. They were a cardboard box and string affair; then, as now, entrepreneurs soon appeared on the scene selling covers-cum-cases which were much easier to carry and less unsightly. It also covered the large print name on every box. As the war progressed, we learned to travel daily without carrying these, except for the occasional school inspection when the punishment for failure was writing out I must bring my gas-mask to school when told to do so one hundred times.
Bearing in mind these days were before the National Health Act, without doubt the most dreaded event was the visit of the mobile school dentist. County Council employees, they were unanimously austere and awful. I recall in my early days, a big boy,
Glyn Phillips, being sent from the senior school to collect me to attend and without any more ado, he whipped out two teeth!
My parents knew nothing until I got home then mother went on the warpath but the dentist-bird had flown. Today it would never be allowed.
At school itself, the windows were cross-patterned with a kind of Sellotape to encase any shattered glass falling. When the siren sounded, there was a practised drill in each classroom to push all the desks together with all climbing underneath. Usually the lesson continued, mostly a singing one. The village siren was situated at the top of the slip/alleyway leading up from The Chequers to the Bulls Lane junction.
In the summer, the Pioneer Corps from Ashley occupied the cricket pitch on the Rec for their Wednesday games afternoon.
I suspect this was because of a cricket-enthusiast colonel, who always played in complete whites. Many of the others wore all sorts of army clothes oddments. Their numbers were augmented by various odd bodies from the Rudloe camp and our own Stan Brunt. The main attraction for the young was the arrival of the tea wagon, a sort of free-for-all dishing out of army cakes and buns to all and sundry with army tea made with condensed milk. Ugh!
The food rationing system became rather irksome because as time wore on it meant that once your ration books were deposited with a selected grocer, there they remained. That included sweets as well.
This was most unusual because of the national bell curfew. The bells would have been rung by Les Hinton.
Around 1942, there was a huge military funeral at the cemetery, salute fired etc., where German airmen were buried with full military honours. The Black German crosses stayed in place until presumably, the war graves commission excavated and returned them to Germany in the late 1950s.
Life at Box School
Gas masks were distributed nationally by nominated Air Raid Wardens on a street-by-street basis. They were a cardboard box and string affair; then, as now, entrepreneurs soon appeared on the scene selling covers-cum-cases which were much easier to carry and less unsightly. It also covered the large print name on every box. As the war progressed, we learned to travel daily without carrying these, except for the occasional school inspection when the punishment for failure was writing out I must bring my gas-mask to school when told to do so one hundred times.
Bearing in mind these days were before the National Health Act, without doubt the most dreaded event was the visit of the mobile school dentist. County Council employees, they were unanimously austere and awful. I recall in my early days, a big boy,
Glyn Phillips, being sent from the senior school to collect me to attend and without any more ado, he whipped out two teeth!
My parents knew nothing until I got home then mother went on the warpath but the dentist-bird had flown. Today it would never be allowed.
At school itself, the windows were cross-patterned with a kind of Sellotape to encase any shattered glass falling. When the siren sounded, there was a practised drill in each classroom to push all the desks together with all climbing underneath. Usually the lesson continued, mostly a singing one. The village siren was situated at the top of the slip/alleyway leading up from The Chequers to the Bulls Lane junction.
In the summer, the Pioneer Corps from Ashley occupied the cricket pitch on the Rec for their Wednesday games afternoon.
I suspect this was because of a cricket-enthusiast colonel, who always played in complete whites. Many of the others wore all sorts of army clothes oddments. Their numbers were augmented by various odd bodies from the Rudloe camp and our own Stan Brunt. The main attraction for the young was the arrival of the tea wagon, a sort of free-for-all dishing out of army cakes and buns to all and sundry with army tea made with condensed milk. Ugh!
The food rationing system became rather irksome because as time wore on it meant that once your ration books were deposited with a selected grocer, there they remained. That included sweets as well.
Ben Drew at Box Bakery
Box had its own Bakery which was located on the Devizes Road, left hand side going from the War Memorial and next to an alleyway which, via steep steps, leads down to The Bear. The baker was Mr Ben Drew, quite a local character, especially during the 1920s and 30s. The Drews lived in the large, tall front of a house looking onto the London Road whilst the bakery was on the upper part at the rear.
The bakery itself comprised a large stone building with a vast gas-fired oven into which numerous loaf-shaped tins were thrust via a long steel pole with a pocket on the end. The loaves were of three sizes, very long, large and a cottage-style loaf. Also there was a lardy cake on request! Opposite the oven was a large table for mixing the dough and whenever one called, Mr Drew was always there kneading the dough.
In the upper yard was a stable with a roof for the delivery horse and Ben's cart, which all entered into the yard through double wooden gates. This cart horse grazed the steep field opposite the Upper Ley track. He was fetched in the early afternoon to pull the bread delivery cart on the various rounds. The cart itself had a roof and altogether was a rather high-class affair, more a chaise than a cart, with a bold sign on each side, B DREW, BAKER, all very professionally written. This service was invaluable to the outlying areas such as Ashley, Lower Kingsdown, Alcombe, Middlehill, Widdenham and the lanes around Lower Box Hill.
When petrol was short and rationed during the wartime years, one wonders what the residents of these rather remote areas would have done for bread supply.
Box had its own Bakery which was located on the Devizes Road, left hand side going from the War Memorial and next to an alleyway which, via steep steps, leads down to The Bear. The baker was Mr Ben Drew, quite a local character, especially during the 1920s and 30s. The Drews lived in the large, tall front of a house looking onto the London Road whilst the bakery was on the upper part at the rear.
The bakery itself comprised a large stone building with a vast gas-fired oven into which numerous loaf-shaped tins were thrust via a long steel pole with a pocket on the end. The loaves were of three sizes, very long, large and a cottage-style loaf. Also there was a lardy cake on request! Opposite the oven was a large table for mixing the dough and whenever one called, Mr Drew was always there kneading the dough.
In the upper yard was a stable with a roof for the delivery horse and Ben's cart, which all entered into the yard through double wooden gates. This cart horse grazed the steep field opposite the Upper Ley track. He was fetched in the early afternoon to pull the bread delivery cart on the various rounds. The cart itself had a roof and altogether was a rather high-class affair, more a chaise than a cart, with a bold sign on each side, B DREW, BAKER, all very professionally written. This service was invaluable to the outlying areas such as Ashley, Lower Kingsdown, Alcombe, Middlehill, Widdenham and the lanes around Lower Box Hill.
When petrol was short and rationed during the wartime years, one wonders what the residents of these rather remote areas would have done for bread supply.
|
Ben’s daily routine was always the same, loaves in the oven, fetch Joey the horse, feed him, do nearby local deliveries by basket and bicycle, load up the cart, then embark on the allotted delivery route. The horse was shod, when required, by the village farrier who was located in Merretts’ Yard opposite the Post Office. This routine continued until Ben became very elderly and frail and seemed to be increasingly fatigued, and he sold the round in the late 1940s.
Then Joey died and being present at the departure of the corpse, I was able to obtain one of the four horse-shoes. Not any old horse-shoe but Joey and Ben Drew’s horse-shoe!! It has pride of place in our garden and has done so in our past dwellings at Portsmouth, Newbury, Birmingham and now Cheltenham and, as far I am concerned, has always represented a wonderful bit of my Box memories ! Right: Ben Drew and Joey doing their deliveries at the top of Box Hill (courtesy Mark Jaworski) |
|
The Drews had an evacuee boy billeted called John McCullam who was allowed out to join our gang once he had done his local delivery round. John always recounted the tale from Ben that the horse would never drive past Ben Cross without being led at the bridle. The mystery here is Box folk lore suggesting that a man, presumably called Ben, was hanged here years ago and his spirit remained! I know nothing more than that.
Other Wartime Residents
One prominent village character was Ernie Barnet who was the road man, responsible for scything and sweeping verges and the like. Unfortunately Ernie had no roof to his mouth and his speech was difficult to understand. He was also the despatch rider for the Home Guard on his auto cycle. One Sunday morning, the Box Home Guard Brigade were set to defend the village against an invasion from the Bath Brigade. One of the organisers was sitting in the Legion Club and saying Barnett, it's no good hanging around here, that message is very urgent. Why haven’t you gone? And Ernie's answer was No bloody petrol !
Ted Hulbert was our postman who shared delivery shifts with Fred Strange and Tommy Osbourne. I remember others in the Hulbert family, including Glenys Hulbert who was an attractive blonde, older than me, and I think she was in the same Box School class as my sister, Brenda Cooper.
Several of the child evacuees from London stayed in Box for quite some time after most had returned. One lad, David Knights, who was billeted in Hazelbury Hill, decided to set fire to the hayrick there and was hastily returned to London! The field is now built on, anyway.
One prominent village character was Ernie Barnet who was the road man, responsible for scything and sweeping verges and the like. Unfortunately Ernie had no roof to his mouth and his speech was difficult to understand. He was also the despatch rider for the Home Guard on his auto cycle. One Sunday morning, the Box Home Guard Brigade were set to defend the village against an invasion from the Bath Brigade. One of the organisers was sitting in the Legion Club and saying Barnett, it's no good hanging around here, that message is very urgent. Why haven’t you gone? And Ernie's answer was No bloody petrol !
Ted Hulbert was our postman who shared delivery shifts with Fred Strange and Tommy Osbourne. I remember others in the Hulbert family, including Glenys Hulbert who was an attractive blonde, older than me, and I think she was in the same Box School class as my sister, Brenda Cooper.
Several of the child evacuees from London stayed in Box for quite some time after most had returned. One lad, David Knights, who was billeted in Hazelbury Hill, decided to set fire to the hayrick there and was hastily returned to London! The field is now built on, anyway.
End of the War
Suddenly a free issue of the Bath Chronicle appeared with a huge headline Unconditional Surrender and a brief note that
Mr Churchill would address the nation at 9 o’clock that night. The Prime Minister announced the end of hostilities at midnight and a National Bank Holiday, VE Day for Victory in Europe. There were Church services, bells ringing constantly, school holidays and a notice in the window of the British Legion Club that the Box Peace Commemoration Committee had arranged a vast celebration on the Rec with marquees, children's tea party, fancy dress parade etc. I suspect that the organisation of these festivities was WI-based.
Suddenly a free issue of the Bath Chronicle appeared with a huge headline Unconditional Surrender and a brief note that
Mr Churchill would address the nation at 9 o’clock that night. The Prime Minister announced the end of hostilities at midnight and a National Bank Holiday, VE Day for Victory in Europe. There were Church services, bells ringing constantly, school holidays and a notice in the window of the British Legion Club that the Box Peace Commemoration Committee had arranged a vast celebration on the Rec with marquees, children's tea party, fancy dress parade etc. I suspect that the organisation of these festivities was WI-based.
A huge bonfire was prepared, complete with a knitted-doll looking a bit like Adolf Hitler propped up to a swastika. However, this did not quite go to plan because a couple of unknown squaddies (private soldiers) lit it all a little bit earlier than intended! This whole function was repeated some weeks later for VJ Day (Victory over Japan) but compared with the VE occasion, it was rather an anti-climax even though the bonfire was lit on time. There was a concert around the tea-party, all arranged by OD Harris (Maisy Gay's partner) and I can recall Monty Dermot and Veronica Miles singing a duet from the latest hit from State Fair, an American musical film at that time, It's a Grand Night for Singing. It seemed so very appropriate.
Later on in the 1945 year, a vast fete was organised in the field where Bargates is now, including a beauty competition judged by CB Cochran of West End fame), crafts exhibitions, and fun fair, all to raise funds for distribution to the returning heroes. This event was a Chronicle headline. One other early peace initiative was introduced by the newly arrived Rev Scott who did not like the choir ladies without surplices as was the custom. This shortfall was rectified by the use of the church Blackout Curtains including flat tricorn hats! Obviously the curtains were of very good velvet-like quality. This event made two columns at the centre of the Daily Express.
Later on in the 1945 year, a vast fete was organised in the field where Bargates is now, including a beauty competition judged by CB Cochran of West End fame), crafts exhibitions, and fun fair, all to raise funds for distribution to the returning heroes. This event was a Chronicle headline. One other early peace initiative was introduced by the newly arrived Rev Scott who did not like the choir ladies without surplices as was the custom. This shortfall was rectified by the use of the church Blackout Curtains including flat tricorn hats! Obviously the curtains were of very good velvet-like quality. This event made two columns at the centre of the Daily Express.
Do you have any information about the Second World War in Box? We are compiling information for a series of articles about the war and would love to hear from you if you have memories of the people in the village, of your parents or grandparents, or of life at that time. Do you have photos of Box residents in service at home or abroad? If you are able to help, please contact us via the Contact tab or email [email protected].