The Richards Family 1940-45

THE YEARS ~ BRIEFLY

My years from 17 to 22 saw events which decisively influenced my future life and concepts - my first job, the war and the quasi ‘Home Guard’, the critical illnesses of my mother, and the love of cycling and exploring the countryside. Looking back now it seems like a surreal drama, as if I was just acting a part and being carried along by events, it was wartime and we did as we were told; fortunately the family suffered no casualties. Just before we left Birmingham Dad’s father, William John Richards, died at Burton-on-Trent from heart failure on 12th April 1940, aged 78. For most of his life he had been a foreman platelayer on the railways, a very arduous and responsible occupation. A rather irascible character, we hardly knew him and Dad never seemed close to him.

OUR NEW HOME

The first days at Letchworth are described in the Birmingham chapter but, to be brief, I arrived on 17th May 1940. Dad met me at the station and we walked to our new ‘mansion’ set in large grounds - ‘The Briars’ 103 Wilbury Road, built about 1906 and one of the first houses in Letchworth Garden City which was founded in 1903. Mother, May, Lorna and Nadine arrived from Lyme 10 days later.

The house and garden were very impressive - the largest we had ever lived in - the dining room alone was 19 x 16ft. The house faced south with a sun lounge, three gables and a balcony; the garden was 170 x 135ft, about half an acre, and contained an orchard of 15 apple trees, 2 pears, a greengage and a walnut; a wooded area with small conifers, purple crab apples and poplars underplanted with primroses and primulas; a single tennis court and lawns to the west and south; the boundaries comprised sycamores, hazel, weeping willows, an enormous crack willow, purple plum and hornbeam. Outbuildings included a large wooden garage and 3 sheds in one of which Dad installed his Drummond lathe and tools. There were 3 flower borders and a large vegetable garden, 3 large black poplars which were pollarded to provide fencing and a red and 2 white horse chestnuts. My bedroom was west-facing with two bay windows enabling me to see in all directions - the garden was fascinating with bee orchids on the lawn and glow-worms everywhere. Children nowadays would be amazed at the teeming numbers of birds, butterflies, moths and other insects - there were nightingales in Spring and owls and bats at night.

Soon after I arrived I went for a walk along Stotfold Road reasoning that if I kept turning right I would soon arrive home. Arriving in Stotfold I turned up Brook Street, then through the village, next along Norton Road and by this time it was dark and everything was blacked out. I asked a group of country lads if this was the way to Letchworth but they were quite aggressive - they would not tell me and said I was a spy as I had a plaid tie on and was not Scottish! Everyone was jittery and about spies being dropped from aircraft.

MOSTLY ABOUT THE WAR

At this time, April-May 1940, German armies were advancing through Belgium, Holland and France, savagely bombing defenceless cities, especially Rotterdam, and mercilessly machine gunning fleeing refugees from the air. The Allied forces were routed, culminating in the evacuation of our army from the Dunkirk beaches, abandoning all their equipment, which left us defenceless save for the Royal Air Force. We had an old gardener we called Abraham who had ‘come with the house’ - a rather quaint character, I remember him saying: "Farsens on em been cuh uh (cut up) art thayer - heh heh heh!".

Winston Churchill was now Prime Minister and rallied the nation with his magnificent though sombre speeches; he offered us: "Only blood, toil, tears and sweat" saying: "You ask what is our policy? I say: It is to wage war by sea, land and air with all our might. What is our aim? I answer in one word: Victory! Victory at all costs, victory in spite of terror, victory however long and hard the road may be" (13th May 1940). On 4th June towards the end of the Dunkirk evacuation Churchill made his most memorable speech: "We shall not flag or fail, we shall go on to the end. We shall defend our island whatever the cost may be. We shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills. We shall never surrender!"

I registered for military service in August 1940, aged 17.1/2, giving as my preference the RAF. I had the opportunity to enrol at St Christopher’s School, Letchworth but this did not seem worthwhile so I continued some studies by post with the University Correspondence College, in a rather desultory way, taking a special interest in Spanish. I became fatalistic not really expecting to survive the war so I enjoyed what time I had in the garden and countryside, but it was lonely as I had no friends here. Nadine was enrolled at St Francis (RC) College soon after we arrived.
Between July and October 1940 waves of German bombers attacked in daylight and ferocious battles ensued with our Hurricane and Spitfire fighter aircraft eventually destroying a major part of the Luftwaffe squadrons in the ’Battle of Britain’ but not without savage losses; this alone wrecked Hitler’s invasion plans. In Churchill’s words: "Never in the field of human conflict was so much owed by so many to so few". We did sometimes see ‘dogfights’ between the aircraft with the sky covered with vapour trails.

Between September 1940 and May 1941 came the ‘Blitz’, the saturation bombing of London and major cities at night. We could see the fiery red glow of London burning and starlike flashes of anti-aircraft shells clearly from our upper windows, especially when the London Docklands were set ablaze. Several bombs fell nearby, two were dropped each side of the railway bridge in Stotfold Road but did no damage; the chalky disturbed ground could be seen for years. Sometimes when the air raid sirens (‘Moaning Minnies’) sounded at night we all trooped downstairs to the hall corridor and put saucepans on our heads (as officially advised!). Dad in his long pants caused much mirth!

FAMILY & WORK

We had Mr and Mrs Hackenbroch from London compulsorily billeted on us for about 18 months. They were a pleasant orthodox Jewish couple, both practising dentists, refugees from Germany; they travelled to London daily. We were bemused that they were not allowed to do anything on their Sabbath (Friday evening to Saturday evening), could not touch money or even switch lights on or off. They were generous with hard-to-get kosher foods. Mrs Hackenbroch told us that Jewish wives must always have a complete layette ready in case they became the mother of the Messiah!

In November-December 1940 I stayed with Lily and Donald at their home, 29 Tithebarn Road, Halebarns, Hale, Cheshire. This was near Ringway airport and Manchester, both frequent targets for bombers; anti-aircraft shrapnel often rained down on the house. Donald was a member of the ARP (Air Raid Precautions) Rescue Services and was often out all night. We went many delightful walks in the River Bollin valley and also a trip to the magnificent cactus collection at Alexandra Park, Manchester.
On my 18th birthday, 5th February 1941, came the news that our dear old Grandad Harry Nadin had died, he was nearly 83; Mother was very grieved, they had always been very close and she was not well enough to go to his funeral which Lorna attended. He and Grandma Rosaline did visit us once at ‘Letchford’ as he called it in 1940 and I remember him poking his walking stick into the vegetable plot and saying how good the soil was. He had been a self-employed cattle-dealer all his life and also helped at his uncle Bill Betterige’s farm at Alrewas, Staffs. Our Betteridge ancestors were farmers around Nether Whitacre, Warwickshire, for at least 400 years.

My sister Joan Mary was married to William Frederick Turner, Lieut. Royal Navy, at Exeter on 6th March 1941. No family members were present, causing regrets on both sides, but they stayed with us for a few days after the wedding and Bill was welcomed into the family. It had been thought that Joan may have been expecting as the marriage was rather sudden but this was not so. She had an ‘airgraph’ from her previous boyfriend Jimmy Barnett dated 31st May 1941, he was a lance-corporal with the Royal Army Ordnance Corps in Egypt (‘The Desert Rats’) and did not know she was now married. He poignantly writes: ‘Joan dear, you and I have had some wonderfully good times together…what delightful days they were and shortly may they return…Do write to me’. How sad - I do not know if he survived. Joan was a nurse at Mowbray House, Heavitree, Exeter and was also on call for the Exeter Ambulance Service. During the war Joan and Bill often stayed with us and Bill always looked forward to playing Monopoly with myself, Dad and Nadine. Rather rash with his money, Bill usually soon lost after cajoling the ‘bank’ to give loans to everybody! He was in command of the following ships: HMT Bilsdean, HMT
Night Hawk, HMS Jeane Deans.

As I had not yet been called up I applied for a job as a jig and tool draughtsman at the British Tabulating Machine Company (later ICL), Icknield Way, Letchworth where my Dad was already employed on special work, and began work on 9th July 1941. The Chief Draughtsman was a rather formidable character named George Allen, a dead ringer for former President Hindenburg of Germany (1847-1934) but I got on well with him. The office was perched on the roof of the factory, with continuous windows, and could reach 96F in summer. His secretary was a gauche country girl from Weston, Betty Ellis, called Ginny, very free with her favours and forever swallowing cigarette smoke when the boss appeared. Women at that time were not allowed to smoke at work, had to wear stockings and off-the-shoulder clothes were banned. We were also sent home to change if we arrived tieless or wearing garish clothes. We worked a 50 hour week which gave me £1.7s 6d at first. Colleagues in the office included Sid Bardell (main interest cricket), George Bain (my mentor), Ernest Perry and Trevor Rapson.

My sister Sheila Kathleen was married to Ronald Charles Turner, pharmacist, at St Nicholas Parish Church, Norton, Letchworth on 21st July 1941, I was again best man and Nadine was bridesmaid. Parents and all siblings of both families were present - after the reception at our house they left for their new home at 67 Halesowen Road, Quinton, Birmingham (now Halesowen) adjacent to Ron’s chemist shop. They had a week’s honeymoon at Kewstoke, Weston-super-Mare.

Sadly, I had only been at work for a few weeks when Mother had a near fatal coronary thrombosis on 4th August 1941 and was kept in Letchworth Hospital for about 6 weeks, taking two years to make a partial recovery. During this time she had many serious angina attacks with intolerable pains which were treated with a hazardous cocktail of nostrums: morphine injections, trinitrin and luminal tablets and amyl nitrate ampoules. I remember with anguish her grey face and black cold lips - she was looked after with great devotion by Lorna all this time. Doctors were often called at all hours to alleviate the pain and many times we did not expect her to survive the night. At this time the treatment was complete immobility - exactly opposite to that now - which doubtless delayed her recovery. There were spells in the Hitchin Lister Hospital and Fairfield Emergency Hospital, Arlesey, and to add to her troubles she now had diabetes. But she bore it all very bravely, never complaining, in the sure belief she would recover which she did for a few short years. So many times I stayed with her through the dark times, talking of the ‘old days’ and wondering if I should call her doctors (Craggs, Kies, Sturmthal, Vanderborght or Burgess) when her pulse faltered.

At work we were engaged in designing tools for making a mysterious secret naval project we only knew as ‘A23’. Thus just by chance I found I was in a reserved occupation for the rest of the war; this deferral was reviewed every few months and depended on performance; the only opportunity to enlist was for an aircraft tail gunner. It was not until nearly 50 years later that I discovered the parts we made were for ‘bombes’, electro-mechanical machines for unravelling the wheel settings for the keys of the German Enigma encipher. The ‘bombes’ were based on an original Polish ‘bomba’ which had decoded German military messages for some years. Throughout the war our machines decoded virtually all German military radio traffic, sometimes even before the intended recipients, later in conjunction with the ‘Colossus’ computer, and it is probable the war could have been lost without them.
We had no idea what the parts were for but there must have been hundreds of thousands of them in the many completed bombes which were large wardrobe-sized boxes full of whirring wheels or drums. Because the name ‘bombe’ leaked out some thought they were infernal devices to be dropped over Germany! (The name may have been given because they ‘ticked’). This work took precedence over everything and caused much overtime. Chief Engineer Harold ‘Doc’ Keen was in overall control while Tommy Wright and John Page produced the working blueprints which we often had amended to ease production. Up to 2000 ‘Wrens’ (Women’s Royal Naval Service) operated the machines continuously at Bletchley Park, some visited our factory on morale boosting trips but gave nothing away.

THE ‘HOME GUARD’

I joined the Home Guard on 24th May 1942, I was 19. It was an eye-opener to hear the fruity expressions of men from the North and London who had been drafted in to do heavy work - principally in the Kryn & Lahy foundry. Rather naïve, I didn’t understand but pretended to! A few days after being kitted out we were invited to volunteer for an elite mobile company with similar training to army commandos known as the Herts Sub-area Mobile Reserve - I stepped forward with about 30 others in a great show of bravado. We paraded during the week at the Brotherhood Hall, Gernon Road, but our weekend training took place at the site of a lamp post factory in Lower Road, Amwell, near Ware, which our commander Major H M Todd either owned or was an executive there. It was not far from the simple tranquillity of the garden on the ‘New River’ with its magnificent conifer and monument to Sir Hugh Myddleton (c1560-1631) on a smooth green island in the river. Sir Hugh was mainly responsible for the construction of this incredible aqueduct to supply fresh water to London from a plan devised by Edmund Colthurst in 1600.
The ‘New River’ takes its waters from Chadwell Springs, Ware, other springs and wells at Amwell and taps some water from the River Lea at King’s Mead. The work was started in 1609 and finished in 1613; it is surely one of the unsung marvels of England, the glassy water gliding silently for 24 miles to its present terminus at Green Lanes, near Finsbury Park, servicing the filter beds and reservoirs near Alexandra Park and by Green Lanes. Originally the aqueduct coursed for 38 miles, with a fall of only 18 feet, terminating at an elaborate ‘New River Head’ reservoir just south of Sadler’s Wells in Roseberry Avenue, Islington, where pipes made from bored-out elm logs distributed the water. The site was later occupied by offices of the Metropolitan Water Board. Nearby are Myddleton Street, Road and Square; Amwell Street and Chadwell Street. I was impressed by these lines on a pedestal on the island in the river at Amwell by the Quaker poet John Scott (1730-1783):

AMWELL, perpetual be thy stream
Nor e’er thy spring be less
Where thousands drink who never dream
Whence flows the boon they bless

Too often this ungrateful man
Blind and unconscious lives
Enjoys kind Heaven’s indulgent plan
Nor thinks of Him that gives
During training my thoughts often strayed to this peaceful spot - transiently blotting out the horrors of war and in admiration of one man’s efforts to improve the lot of his fellow citizens. John Scott also wrote these harrowing lines, referring to the recruitment of soldiers, and its ghastly sequels:

I hate that drum’s discordant sound,
Parading round and round and round:
To me it talks of ravag’d plains
And burning towns and ruined swains,
And mangl’d limbs, and dying groans,
And widow’s tears, and orphan’s moans;
And all that Misery’s hand bestows,
To fill the catalogue of human woes.
Musing on the curse of war it seems to me there is a primitive biological explanation which is not acknowledged - surging testosterone, common to all male animals, ourselves especially - the driving force for the expansion of aggressive males’ or tribes’ or nations’ territories with the end view of spreading their genes (picture the bloody fights of elephant seals or stags). Thus virtually all wars result in the massacre of males and rape of females along with the acquisition of new breeding territory. The Nazis, Soviets and Japanese in the last war and the recent genocide in the former Yugoslavia are prime examples. That and greedy pillage were, and are, the real reasons, masquerading under the guise of religion, heroism or ‘making a better world’, the absurd strutting tyrants, credulous or hypocritical Holy Joes, paranoid brass hats with medals in direct ratio to the ‘enemy’ slain - all in comic fancy dress, no different from peacocks flaunting their gaudy feathers or baboons their purple faces and behinds. The tragedy is that this delusive behaviour is admired. Of course, the victims have no option but to resist and sometimes prevail; they then feel entitled to wreak vengeance for their sufferings and so it goes on ad infinitum. Even mankind’s favourite form of entertainment is usually simulated violence and murder. Plus ça change…..

At weekends we frequently ‘embussed’ to Amwell at crack of dawn in open trucks in full kit - .303 rifle and bayonet (later Sten sub-machine gun), gas mask, ammunition, tin hat and kitbag. Greatcoats were not allowed whatever the weather, at times we were so cold we collapsed on ‘debussing’. At night we were often called out to guard factories, bridges, gasworks etc. Drilling was reduced to a minimum, for our wartime role it was hardly necessary, but long route marches, river crossings, plank walking and night exercises to capture ‘enemy’ positions using simulated explosives often took place. There was also training with live grenades, marksmanship, methods of sabotage using gun cotton and use of ‘sticky bombs’ which were encased in a cardboard tube and covered with birdlime; the technique was to extract the bomb from the tube and hurl it at tank tracks - if it touched your clothing you were done for as it could not be removed.

Although by this time the immediate threat of an invasion had receded we understood that should an enemy incursion or sabotage raids take place in the Anglia region we would immediately be sent to the scene to disrupt it by any means - our chances of survival would have been slim. We were given ‘Energy Tablets’ which would: ‘Stimulate physical and mental reserves - Overcome feelings of fatigue - Stave of depression and apathy - Ward off sleep - Promote will to survive’. And… ‘If there is a chance of holding out for days, reserve the tablets until exhaustion sets in - if there is little chance start the tablets at once’.
We were given harrowing lectures and shown gruesome methods of silent killing which I recall with especial horror; but it was all-out war and people believed that ‘the only good Germans were dead ones’ and we were resigned to resisting by any means possible to protect our country from the horrific evils of the Nazis. On a lighter note we occasionally had social evenings on weekend camps at Amwell where the beer was unlimited and Major Todd’s daughters and other women were invited - the anticlimax was trying to sleep in a freezing tent with some of the comrades gambling all night. Eric Hide, a very tall gangling young man was my companion through all this. Our officers were Lieut. F T G Isaac who lived in Archers Way and second-in-command Lieut. Vic Watkiss who lived in Redhoods Way East.

CYCLING

I bought a Raleigh Sports bike for £9 in May 1942 and spent most of my free time cycling on my own or with my friend Philip Titmuss. Cycling gave me a wonderful sense of freedom, swishing silently and effortlessly, delighting in the countryside and lovely villages - nearby I especially enjoyed the Pegsdon and Barton Hills, John Bunyan’s ‘Delectable Mountains’. In the summer Philip and I cycled to Leicester for the weekend and I rode to Birmingham on 8th August for a holiday with Sheila and Ron, 96 miles. On 24th July 1943 I started on a round trip to visit Grandma at Burton, Lily and Don at Halebarns and Sheila at Halesowen where I was intrigued to see Gillian, the first grandchild, born on 20th July and only a few weeks old. I believe Ron was on compassionate leave from his RAMC training camp at Ossett, Yorkshire (service No 14342195). Lily was also expecting her first child - Sally was born at Benslow Nursing Home, Hitchin on 27th October 1943. In this year and those following I cycled all over England with Philip; a few memorable trips are: the Berkshire Ridgeway where it was rather ironic to find American troops on manoeuvres at the prehistoric Iron Age fort known as Uffington Castle; the Peak District; Lyme Regis; Cheddar and Porlock in 1944 where I called to see Pat Gibbs whom I had met at Lyme in 1939; she was delighted to see me but was now Mrs Joralemon and married to a GI taking part in the Normandy landings. Her mother, Amy, greeted me with: "Oh, you’re too late - she’s married to a GI!" My longest ride was from Yeovil to home, 153 miles in 15 hours in 1945 and the most arduous to Birmingham and back with Jim Adams in a violent snowstorm in February 1946. My Raleigh bike was stolen in 1944 and I bought a lightweight BSA from Orpington, cycling back home.

MIRIAM

I heard with disbelief that my cherished childhood companion, Miriam Summers (now George), had been fatally injured by a fall from her horse and died in Yeovil Hospital on 15th March 1943, aged 23. It was said at the inquest that the horse may have bolted on hearing a train whistle near Bunford Hollow and Miriam was found lying unconscious on the road; she was riding beyond the sight of her husband Frederick and there were no witnesses. It seems a strange story - the girth strap holding the saddle was found to be brittle and broken - whether this break caused Miriam to fall or happened when her mare fell was impossible to ascertain. Miriam had been married at 20 and by all accounts it had been a troubled and stressful union. Her father, George Roland Summers, ‘Agincourt’ 60 Grove Avenue, Yeovil, died soon after on 11th June from grief at losing his only child; his wife had died from cancer when Miriam was 10. As a retired ships’ captain he was fairly wealthy and apparently Miriam’s husband became the sole beneficiary. It is therefore surprising that neither Miriam (grave plot A4283) nor her father have headstones in Yeovil Cemetery. I had a lengthy correspondence with the East Somerset Coroner to get Miriam’s death certificate corrected.

‘ANDREE’

When Mother was in Fairfield Emergency Hospital, soon after Christmas 1943, she became attached to a very kind nurse who called herself Andrée - when Mother left the hospital she invited her to my 21st. on 5th February 1944. She was, in fact, Audrey Howden, a Yorkshire girl and was quite beautiful with blue eyes and long black tresses - she reminded me of a Gainsborough painting. We went out off and on for about a year and had many happy times. Once we went to a performance of ‘Murder in the Red Barn’ where the cast were patients at the nearby Three Counties Mental Hospital! But I did not feel ready for a steady relationship, although she would have liked it to be, we even talked of a daughter being called ‘Marujita’! So it ended and she met and married Bob Clapp of the USAF but still continued to visit. After the war they settled in Owasso, Michigan.

LAST YEARS OF THE WAR

For many months in 1943-44 waves of American Flying Fortress bombers passed quite close to our office, climbing westwards from their bases in Bassingbourn, Steeple Morden and other nearby airfields to take part in daylight raids on Germany. The squadrons took hours to pass.
On 6th June 1944 Allied forces invaded German-held France. Fortuitously Bill Turner’s minesweeper was delayed by boiler trouble and Ron Turner’s landing craft proved unseaworthy although tossed about in the sea On 12th June the Germans launched the first of nearly 6000 V1 flying bombs -‘Doodlebugs’. They were simple ramjet pilotless aircraft, most of the body being a large bomb. When the engine cut they glided down and exploded - we saw and heard many nearby - Dad and I were watching one from the front door when its engine cut, we clearly felt the blast of the explosion at nearby Pirton. But the greatest threats to morale were the V2 rockets which first fell on 8th September. Falling from 100 miles up at 3000 miles per hour there could be no warning of the terrifying explosions of the 1100 rockets which rained down over London and the south-east for seven months killing c9000 and injuring c25000. I was working in the office in September 1944 when we heard an awesome rumble which shook the building; the news reported there had been a gas explosion at Luton - it was some time before the truth came out. I cycled to see two craters nearby - in Warren Lane, Quickswood, near Baldock and Cityfield Farm, Henlow - I still have pieces of the rockets. The ‘V’ is for Vergeltungswaffe - revenge weapon.

13-14 February 1945. Destruction of Dresden, one
of the most beautiful cities of Europe. Set on fire by British aircraft and the rescuers were bombed the next day by the American airforce. The city was crammed with refugees and of little strategic importance; estimates put the death toll at up to 135,000, mostly burnt to death or trapped in molten tar whilst trying to flee. This was to placate Joseph Stalin of Russia and was the single most brutal act of the war.

8th May 1945, V-E Day, Victory in Europe. May made American and Russian flags which we placed in the front garden with the Union Jack. Celebrations all day and night with crowds singing ‘Roll out the
Barrel’ and ‘Roll me over in the clover’.

6th August 1945. Atomic bomb devastates Hiroshima, Japan. 14th August, Japan surrenders.

ODDS & ENDS

In July 1945 I cycled to Lyme and stayed in our chalet with Nadine and Daphne Cairns. We had a good time and went for some lovely walks especially one along the cliffs to Allhallows School and Rousdon.

Mother, Lorna and May had a holiday in our chalet the following September. Mother was so thrilled as she never expected to be well enough to go there again and was really enjoying herself. But towards the end of the holiday she had serious heart trouble and had to stay several weeks propped up on the locker bed; the cause was atrial fibrillation - a ventricle not beating correctly. Once again she overcame this and regained reasonable health.

I bought a lean-to greenhouse which Philip and I dismantled in Gernon Road. When finally erected this was an elaborate affair with raised beds filled with sand which Dad helped me to make. My pots of cacti were plunged into the sand and made phenomenal growth.

I can only be thankful that I was spared the horrors of many of my generation and feel intense gratitude to those who sacrificed their youth and faced cruel deaths and terrible wounds. I was very, very fortunate. If only we had had the foresight to tackle the spawning nest of vipers before they nearly infected the entire globe, instead of looking the other way…….

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