History

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Happy Days.

Most of us have memories of the Happy days in our lives. It can

be in our childhood or any period of our lives.

As a octogenarian I can look back a few years and the memories come flooding back.

I have just heard an aircraft going overhead. Not a jet but one of the old fashioned

type. Which brings back a recall of the time as a youngster? When the question would

be is that one of ours. If it was not, then it was time to seek some shelter. As a town

Situated on the east coast of England. We were subject to enemy aircraft strafing.


By that I mean a low flying aircraft firing at anything they could see. Some of those

Pilots were not too discriminating about what was a good target. I have often

wondered if they had any children of their own. To be so ruthless takes a very sick

Mind. Still they say that all is fair in love and war. I did not think so and still do not.

I was in later life to see the reality of this again in Korea where I did most of my

National Service.


One of the things in the early part of the second world war that I remember. Was

Seeing a part of my beloved pier being blown up. With the excuse that the enemy

could land on it. We had a flat beach and the tide went for three miles. Even a

schoolboy could work that one out. Then to add insult to injury, large parts of the

beach were cordoned off with barbed wire.


Gone were the days when we used to build large sand castles. That this time the

tide would not breach! We had not read of King Canute. Nor would we have cared,

ours was the one that would stop the tide. Oh the folly of youth who thinks that those

who have gone before. Did not know what they were doing. But we were to have

reprieve. After the first two years of the war. The barbed wire was taken back a bit.

Leaving us part of the beach. With the warning, if you hear the siren then get out of

there. And of course we had our own fully armed beach patrol which we thought was

especially for us.


The promenade on my home town was very long and wide. The new army recruits

would do their square bashing on there . We used to watch them and when the drill

sergeant would cry halt we used to mimic him. Sometimes we could get them all to

halt when he had not said so. Up would go the cry, get those children out of here.

Time for us to run!.

There was one night when the Geneva convention was broken. We had anti personnel

devises dropped in the form of sweets and other children’s toys. As far as I know we

were the only town that happened to. It was never done again and rightly so .

We had one bonus in the form of the big army cook-house that was near us. If you

hung around long enough and there was no officer around. You could get a treat and

treats were scarce in those days.

In the first few months of the war. We were schooled in peoples houses. Just a half

day Monday to Friday. We thought that was great, we were spoilt in those houses.

Ever heard of a cup of tea in the middle of class and some well treasured home made

baking thrown in?. All in all we did not do so bad compared with some.

They do say when the memories start to flood back. That is a start of old age, my take
on that one is that there is nothing wrong with a bit of nostalgia.

Cyril Almond.

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