Evacuation: Guernsey

The following was written by my husband about the occupation of Guernsey between 1940 and 1945.

EVACUATION

Guernsey is the second largest of the Channel Islands. It has an area of twenty-five square miles. Like the other islands, Guernsey was part of the Duchy of Normandy when William I conquered England in 1066. The Channel Islands stayed loyal to the English Crown, when the rest of the Duchy reverted to France. Guernsey acquired a certain independence because of her Norman origin. She kept many special customs, laws and names.
Up to the year 1940 the main source of income was from the specialised growing of tomatoes. Although the population at that time was about forty-two thousand, there were approximately two thousand eight hundred growers, two thousand of those concentrated on growing tomatoes only. The remainder grew flowers or Asparagus Fern, or tomatoes for most of the season followed by a quick crop of flowers. The average width of a glasshouse was reckoned to be thirty feet. If all the glasshouses on the island had been put end to end they would have stretched to a distance of three hundred miles. Just imagine driving under a canopy of glass thirty feet wide from the South of England three hundred miles towards the North.
The Tourist industry came second to Horticulture, but was gradually catching up.
Guernsey has always been very faithful to the Crown. In the First World War there was a high percentage of volunteers. It was unfortunate that when so many Guernseymen were at Cambrai we sustained very heavy casualties.
In the Second World War we again had a very good response by the number who volunteered. The Guernseyman was never failing in his duty and many distinctions and awards came to quite a few. We compared very favourably indeed with any part of the British Isles.
The Island has its own Parliament, which is called “The States of Guernsey”. The Head of the States is the Bailiff. We are subject to the Crown and a Lieutenant Governor represents the Queen in Guernsey. The Guernsey Authorities communicate with the Privy Council through the Lieutenant Governor and the Home Office.
In 1940 about 99% of our exports went to the British Isles and 95% of the imports came from them.
In June 1940 the German forces were sweeping across France. My youngest brother Gerald was studying law at Caen University in France at the time. He had to leave suddenly because due to the German advance the University had to close down, so he straightaway came back to Guernsey. The first of June heralded a cut in petrol rations to all car owners, and it was agreed to have one meatless day per week.
On June 3rd a curfew from 10 pm to 6 am was introduced. This was for all inhabitants except those of British and French nationalities and in order to enforce this more thoroughly armed guards were posted around the island. The next day our new Lieutenant Governor Major General J Randall Marshall Ford C.B., D.S.O., M.C. arrived. On June 5th the growers were asked to refrain from sending flowers. This was due to lack of shipping and two days later potatoes were not allowed to be dug for shipment. On June 14th an appeal was put out for volunteers, as farmers urgently needed help for harvesting. Four days later the axe came down on entertainment. All theatres, cinemas and other places of entertainment which included dances were closed down. The next day, June 19th, German forces who had still been making headway across France entered Cherbourg. Guernsey people had their first taste of refugees, 120 of them in six small boats from France.
An order came from the British Government for Guernsey to be demilitarised. It was also announced that the evacuation of children of school age and those under school age was expected to take place next day. This was completely voluntary. Persons willing to accompany evacuated children as helpers had to report to any headmaster or headmistress.
The following day, June 21st, over 10,000 had already left by boat. This had been wonderfully well organised both from England and from Guernsey, and accomplished very quickly indeed. Many tributes could be paid to all those who worked around the clock in order to ensure quick departure.
I still had my car, a Morris Eight, which I had bought in 1936. I decided to go and see what was happening, by driving the two and a half miles from my home to the harbour known as White Rock. When I got near it, instead of going to the harbour which may have been out of bounds, whilst things were being organised for evacuation, I drove up the hill which is St. Julian’s Avenue. This Avenue leads away from the harbour and is about three hundred yards away from where the boats are docked. People were lined up in threes, most of them sitting on their cases and the line stretched nearly to the top, all waiting to board the next boat to evacuate to England. Some looked very harassed, some looked very worried, but others remained calm.
What decision must I make? I had most likely just hours to decide rather than days.
I had married in 1939 (June) and had built a fairly large house in the north of the island, one that was modern for those days. I had a baby son just three weeks old. My parents had made various enquiries about leaving the island, but had by then decided to stay. My two brothers had also decided to stay. They were both single and living with my parents, at Rosewood, the house my parents built in 1910. My wife’s parents who were farmers and had one of the best herds of Guernsey cattle in the island naturally decided to stay. My father had considerable influence in many departments of life and was always in contact with many influential people. So he said to me if you want to go to England, I will contact Dr. W.F. Bewley who lived in the Lea Valley. I will ask him if there is a possibility of you having a job at the big firm of Rochfords.
So he phoned Dr. Bewley who was one of the greatest experts in Horticulture and who was then at the head of Cheshunt Experimental Station in the Lea Valley. He at once said that a job was available at Rochford’s and also accommodation was available for the three of us on arrival. This would probably have been a sort of stopgap until either I was available for call up in one of the services, or I decided to volunteer for some sort of voluntary service I was interested in or suitable for.
After further consideration I decided to go to England. Hastily my wife Bertha and I got two medium sized cases ready. This was all we thought we were allowed to take for ourselves and the baby. Someone had arranged to pick us up and take us to the boat, and would call in a couple of hours time. Memory is a wonderful gift, but I cannot for the life of me remember today who it was that was going to take us to the boat.
Soon the cases were ready by the front door and this would have been half an hour or an hour before we were due to leave the house. Then the phone rang and the person who phoned worked as a Civil Servant in the town of St. Peter Port. She gave me the information that all the Statesmen and people in authority had decided to stay. Posters were put up around the town advising people to stay in order to avoid total evacuation or too small a number staying. This was the wish of the British Government that we should continue to run the Island, come what may, as well as possible.
The Bailiff made a stirring broadcast speech and received great ovation from the public. He advised everyone to stand firm. Time proved that this was the right decision to make on that day. I took this advice as sound and sensible so we stayed. Both the Bailiff and the Procurer of the Island advised everyone to carry on as usual as far as possible.
There eventually proved to be many definite and sound reasons why I should have stayed, which I have always appreciated, even though it meant many problems and quite a few hardships.
In general people were fairly cool. It is one of the fine characteristics of the Guernseymen to face life as it comes and look at the problems fairly and squarely and deal with them with a quiet and resolute fortitude.
Just a few people were subject to mass hysteria. A few people sold their cars at knock out prices, and one gentleman sold his high powered sports car for £1 as he was about to leave on the boat for England. A few farmers killed off some of their cattle, but the vast majority kept going in the ordinary way. About a third of the growers left the Island and this was at a time when at least two fifths of the crop was still on the plants. For a few days most of the crops were left completely unattended. There were many cases where greenhouse doors were left open and also some of the vents were damaged through being left open day and night for a few days.
On the 27th June the States took over all abandoned farms and glasshouses. Tomatoes were still being exported.
From the little island of Sark came the news that only some of the English residents had evacuated. No Sark families had left.
On the same day German planes flew over the harbour. It was evident that they were photographing the lines of vans and lorries of produce. These vans and lorries were lined up for at least half a mile. The line stretched from the harbour (St. Peter Port) to the end of the esplanade.
On June 28th British military experts declared that there need be no fear of the Germans taking any advantage from the British decision to demilitarise the Channel Islands. But at 7 pm. I was sitting at table with my wife and baby son Nigel, having the evening meal when I suddenly heard a rat-tat-tat and the sound of planes making quite a noise. This rat-tat-tat was a completely new sound to me, something I cannot remember ever having heard. So I rushed to the back door to look out and see what was happening.
German planes in waves of three were bombing and machine gunning the lines of produce at the harbour and beyond. During the raid we took shelter under the stairs as a precaution. In a few minutes twenty-eight Guernseymen were killed and thirty-three injured. It was tragic that they machine gunned the ambulance as it was going up St. Julian’s Avenue resulting in the driver being killed. My carter who had carted my tomatoes and those of my father for a great many years, hid under his lorry during the raid, but the lorry burnt out and he lost his life. He was a married man of about thirty-five years and had been a most reliable and trustworthy carter. A farmer and his two sons had gone to the island of Alderney to round up the cattle there. This was good voluntary work and with other volunteers they were bringing the cattle back to Guernsey, as Alderney had been totally evacuated. All the cattle and farm animals were running wild. They were near the harbour at the time of the raid and the three lost their lives.
Out at sea the Guernsey lifeboat was machine gunned, resulting in the son of the coxswain being killed. Being a small island, one can assume that everyone would know at least one of the dead and injured, and many would know most of them, so the grief of the island was widespread. The raid was carried out by Heinkel III’s. From the time of the air raid on June 28th till the day of the German occupation of the Island on July 1st there seems to be a gap in my memory. I cannot recall any particular thing that happened during that period of about fifty to sixty hours. For the last two or three weeks, we had been living day by day, knowing that any day it was likely we would be occupied by the Germans.
The fact that I had decided to stay on the Island made me confident that I must make the best of every opportunity to face the future with courage, make plans for getting things in order, and serve the community in whatever way I could to the best of my ability.
In spite of the air raid communication was maintained with London. The head of the Island Police, Inspector Sculper had been entrusted with the task of meeting the Germans whenever they arrived.
Sunday June 30th two days after the air raid was a sunny day. A little after midday Inspector Sculper was told that a German had landed at the airport. He went straight to the airport, only to find that the plane had disappeared again. It appeared that the pilot had cautiously entered the airport building, and while doing so heard three British planes overhead so made haste back to his plane and went quickly off again. In his hurry the German pilot left his revolver in the airport building. The airport was now deserted apart from some cattle that had been brought over from Alderney. They had been put there for grazing, as this was the best emergency grazing available.
If you were living away from the airport as I was, it was difficult to know exactly what was happening and most people heard all sorts of rumours. These were soon to be discounted in most cases by actual fact, as later in the day between six and seven o’clock four German transport planes approached the airport. There were obstacles that stood in the way, for the cattle were wandering around the airport. So after scaring the cows to one end of the airport they came in to land.
Inspector Sculper handed over the letter he had been given to Captain Liebe Pieteritz. He was the first officer to receive the surrender of British soil.
The letter was addressed to “The Officer Commanding German Forces, Guernsey”. The letter stated that Guernsey had no armed forces of any description. The invading party were escorted in some police cars, and a commandeered taxi to the town St. Peter Port. The destination was the Royal Hotel, one of the biggest hotels on the Island at that time. This hotel was often the venue for those in high authority. Also the hotel is well situated close to the harbour. Later that evening more reinforcements arrived on the Island by air.
Being Sunday all churches had had special prayers for our future. I noticed that in spite of not knowing what was going to happen to us, people who worshipped had a sense of strong fellowship. This was to prove itself throughout the German occupation, which none of us realised was to last nearly five years.
One wonders what sort of sleep people had that night. It may have been in spite of every thing a sort of relief to many. They knew during the last few days that this was bound to happen soon, and when it happened most people seemed to tune themselves into facing the future with confidence.
There were as in all societies and groups of people those who easily lost their nerve, or those who imagined that the war would be over in a few months.
Monday arrived with the first publication of the Guernsey Evening Press with everyone rushing to see what was in it. The front page displayed in bold lettering the ‘Orders of the German Commandant of the German Forces’. There will straightaway be a curfew from 11 p.m. to 6 a.m. and this, I believe, most of us who had been thinking about what the rulings might be, expected.
Then we read with a certain amount of trepidation, mostly because of our experience of the recent air raid the next ruling. This stated that the German forces would respect the population, but at the least sign of trouble the town would be bombed. No person was to enter the aerodrome, and all weapons such as rifles, pistols and revolvers were to be handed in immediately. The sale of motor spirit was prohibited, and the use of private cars for private purposes was forbidden. Banks and shops were to remain open. This was signed by the German Commandant of the Island of Guernsey.
History was made on July 1st 1940 for Guernsey, something which will always be remembered. The question in the minds of all Guernsey subjects was, what would really happen as the weeks passed? July 3rd brought in further orders by the Commandant, but here were some pleasant surprises, which included the ruling that ‘Life and property of the population will be respected and guaranteed’.
Assemblies of Divine Worship would be allowed, Prayers for the Royal Family and wireless sets were permitted. The ruling about wireless sets surprised many, and was done at first because they were for the time being on the winning side. The rate of exchange for the Reichmark was fixed at five to the pound. Delivery of bread was restricted to Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays.
On the 6th July stocks of seeds were requisitioned. Wages were fixed for workers of the Glasshouse Utilisation Board. Thirty Shillings for a single man per week, thirty eight shillings for a married man plus four shillings for his wife and then two shillings for each child. I always mention in speaking to women’s groups, that adding just four shillings for a wife would seem that they did not value our women very highly. This is generally greeted with laughter. Growers and workers had exactly the same rates. Goods that were already rationed included meat, butter, bacon, ham and sugar. The Glasshouse Utilisation Board was referred to at the G.U.B. I often used to refer to it as G.R.U.B. because after all it concerned our grub. Orders were given by the German Commandant to the local authorities to plan to grow certain kinds of foods in the glasshouses. Many thousands of tons of tomatoes were soon to be thrown away as we had to clear the crop as quickly as possible to make way for this new plan.
We seemed to eat tomatoes till we looked like them. Quite a lot of chutney was made by the housewife, and some tomatoes were put in boxes and drawers of sawdust to make them last a few weeks longer.
Many crops of vegetables which had never or seldom been seen in a glasshouse were now sown or planted. These included potatoes, beans, peas, cabbage and cauliflower, sweetcorn, parsnips and carrots. Kohl Rabi too, which was pretty new to us and a favourite of the Germans, was sown and planted.
It would be possible to continue to write about what happens day by day, but my intention for the future chapters of this book is to divide all the personal and other information into sections. This will include the occupation of houses by the enemy, the use of wireless sets when sets were forbidden, the curfew, Red Cross messages, worship and others.

THE OCCUPATION OF HOUSES BY THE ENEMY

Because of the evacuation of nearly half the population which was 42,000 at the time, the number of islanders left in Guernsey was approximately 23,000. There were therefore lots of houses available for the Germans to occupy. This would make people think that because of the large number of houses available for the enemy, they would not need to put anyone out of their own homes, that is of the people who had stayed in the Island. But this was not to be, as on the average over ten thousand Germans were stationed in the Island at the same time, also about the same number of prisoners of war of different nationalities.
This meant that in spite of the evacuation of eighteen thousand to nineteen thousand people, the population of the Island during the years was as high or a little higher than peace time. Naturally one cannot blame the Germans for this. They wanted some of the best houses. Most occupying forces, whatever their nationality, are inclined to do the same. So they first occupied most of the houses where the owners or occupants had evacuated to England, and then they looked around for more, including some of the biggest and most modern houses. I believe I was one of the first of the people who had stayed in the Island to be turned out of their own home so that German troops could move in.
One day in mid-June 1941 (as far as I can remember it was a Monday) the Germans gave me a warning through the Local Housing Authority that my home ‘Roxana’ was needed the next day for the German troops to be stationed there.
‘Roxana’ was a fairly large house, quite modern and had only been build for June 1939, the month of my first marriage. From this marriage I had a son Nigel, who was thirteen months old.
He was not living with me at the time, because my wife Bertha had been taken seriously ill and was now in hospital suffering from leukaemia, so Nigel was being looked after by his grandparents at La Ramee Farm.
One of the amazing things was that within half an hour of my knowing that the Germans could take over the house twenty five relations arrived to help. So working at high speed and with great care, we set about carrying by hand all the furniture, carpets and effects. Everything was taken out of the back door and through a gap in the hedge of one of my neighbours (my wife’s uncle’s property) to the bottom of their garden into a very big shed. This was a distance of about one hundred and fifty yards. After about two hours hard work everything was cleared completely to the boards. This was the instruction the Germans had given. The house could be cleared completely. All of these articles were new, as they had been purchased mostly at the end of 1938 and the beginning of 1939. We were completely stocked with all that was required for a new home.
Another problem I had at the time was connected with my father. He had been a very active man with great business acumen. He had served the Church, the Parish and the Island very effectively, but because of the strain and stress of the German occupation, he had become during the previous months mentally sick. This meant that my mother, my two brothers (Eric and Gerald) and I had many difficult months of strain and some nights with very little sleep.
The next day I received a telephone message to say that I had to put all the furniture and effects back again, as they had changed their minds. So we all got together again and proceeded to put back 75% to 80% of what had been taken out, not everything as they had demanded. How was this achieved? Well first of all by spreading things more widely in the cupboards. Where there had been for example piles of six or twelve saucers and plates, we put them in piles of about half the size, and also made a bigger distance between each pile. If anyone opened the cupboard door they would have seen what would have appeared to be a full cupboard, but in actual fact only 50% to 60% of the crockery was stored there.
It was naturally not possible to keep any carpets, as this would have been detected right away, but I did keep back two or three rugs. A few articles of furniture were kept back, and other things were spread on the mantelpiece and elsewhere and nothing was put back in the attic.
The reader of this might pose the question, Supposing you had decided to put even less, how would they have known what was missing, if they had only been and walked around the house?
But this was the position. The week before all this was happening I was working in my glasshouses during the day and because my wife was in hospital and my son living with his grandparents, I had a young maid who went in two or three hours a day to keep the house in order. About the middle of that week while she was working, Germans knocked on the door and walked in saying that they had come to take an inventory of all that was in the house.
Naturally she was scared and could not do anything about it and everything was listed even to the ornaments on the mantelpiece. So this is why I had to use my discretion as to the number of articles I dared keep back. Was sent a list a couple of weeks after and it made interesting reading. They left out the attic in their list. On the Thursday I was told that some of the effects, one or two pieces of furniture need not be in the house, but to this day I cannot remember what they were, but on the Friday I was told that everything I originally had in the house must be included. Sometime during the day while my mother and I and three or four other people were putting one of two finishing touches of rearrangement, three Germans arrived. They had come to see that everything was to their satisfaction. One was an interpreter for the other two. These two were eventually to occupy ‘Roxana’. The one who seemed to be in charge complained through the interpreter that I had not left quilts on the beds. He also complained that a few other things were missing. On this occasion though they did not look around thoroughly, so they never noticed how things had been rearranged in the cupboards. Among the things I had retained were a very good china cabinet and a very good grandmother clock which I still have to this day. Both these pieces of furniture were recent presents. While chatting to him on the stairs, I again explained to them as I had done on a previous occasion that my wife was in hospital dying of leukaemia and my father was in hospital under severe mental strain. I had hoped as a sort of last resort they would consider this and decide at least to delay for a time coming to live at ‘Roxana’. But this was to no avail. They said they were sorry and they also said that they had mentioned it to the German Commandant and he offered his sympathy.
I was hoping they would have said sympathy and understanding and I would have taken them up on that, and said if you understand my position surely you can at least delay taking over the house. I know I put in some other arguments as well and I remember my mother talking very firmly to them which is something she would seldom have done to anyone else. But the Nazi who was coming to live in the house, who looked like an old Prussian soldier kept complaining about the missing quilts and the other missing pieces of furniture. Eventually they went away.
Although they had seen what I was leaving in the house, I looked around again and decided to take away a few things that I thought would not be noticed. Later in the day I was then informed by the local authorities that the Germans would occupy the house at 10 a.m. the next morning. I know there was nothing more I could do, so I prepared myself for living at my parents’ home for the time being, which was less that half a mile away. I remember in spite of everything, having a good night’s sleep. I thanked God for all the good things that were happening, in spite of all the bad things and especially thanked him for the wonderful support I had from relatives and friends. I also thanked God for the wonderful way my son was being cared for at the farm which belonged to my in-laws. They continued to do this right to the end of the occupation and many months after, until my second marriage in April 1946. My mother and brothers too did all they could throughout. Other relatives and friends were also very helpful and encouraging. The next morning I got up early and decided to clear completely everything that was left in the garage. I took with me a long hand truck that we used in our glasshouse trade and proceeded to clear the garage. I had previously taken my car away and put it in the shed on my parents property where I traded. I rented half the area of glass there. The total area was 2,000 feet in length by 30 feet in width.
After I had been loading up the truck for the first load, a Swiss maid who was employed by the Germans and already preparing the house for when they came in at ten o’clock, came to tell me that I was not allowed to take anything from the garage. She said she would report me to the Feldkommandantur, that is the Commandant. I decided to take no notice of this and kept on loading till I completed two truck loads just before 10 a.m. It so happened the Germans had not arrived yet so I was able to get away with everything from the garage which I took to my parents’ home.
It was unusual for the Germans to arrive late, but I found out a day or two later from one of my neighbours along the road, that they were only fifteen to twenty minutes late.
Although from this date I was not allowed to enter my home, which incidentally was a sort of headquarters for the houses around, I was allowed to cultivate the land around the house. The area of land including the house was just over two thirds of an acre.
I had already dug up the front lawn as it was essential to dig up as many lawns as possible to increase the area in the island for the cultivation of vegetables.
Cabbages and cauliflowers had been planted and they were looking very promising. The back garden has raspberry canes, strawberry plants, apple trees and various kinds of vegetables. This had not fully developed yet, as the house had only been built two years prior to the German occupation.
My wife Bertha, as I have mentioned earlier, was dying of leukaemia. She had not been told what was happening to our home.
Our doctor had said it would not be right to notify her just at that time, but in a few days when he thought is was wise, I should break the news to her. So after a few days, following his instructions I had what I reckoned to be one of the most difficult tasks of my life, to break the news about this. This I did and I found it amazing how she stood up to it, and we had a long conversation about what had happened and I was able to answer all her questions truthfully. I must emphasise that friends and relations and everyone I met were wonderful to me.
My father died four weeks after this on July 27th and my wife on October 31st.
I will always claim that it was Christian faith and a Christian background that helped me tremendously to fact the future with confidence. I also had the opportunity of seeing what happened to other houses. When the occupation was only two weeks old, I went with my father to see a batch of eight houses in the parish of St. Sampson’s. The houses had been occupied by twelve or thirteen families and they must have all been evacuated the same day. This was a sorry sight, nearly all doors had been left open. The beds had not been made up. They had evidently got up, packed their cases and then many of them just started breakfast then rushed for the boat that was taking people to England. Nearly every breakfast table had just been started, poached eggs left on the plate, and all the necessary foodstuffs for breakfast. Some breakfasts had been partly eaten and others not at all. This must have been a rat’s paradise as this was three weeks after the tables had been laid.
The housing authorities and those responsible did a wonderful job. Soon they were attended to, but with so many houses on the Island left unattended all of a sudden, it was quite a gigantic task to get things in order. I have nothing but praise for their efforts and accomplishments, especially when I realised that many of then had their own personal problems to deal with in addition to serving the public in this way.
Fortunately the various experiences which I had, found no hate in me. I had always tried to keep to the saying “Hate the wrong but not the wrongdoer” and this stood me in good stead. I had become a fully qualified Methodist Lay Preacher in 1933 and on the average took eight to eleven appointments a quarter. The first sermon I preached two Sundays after the death of my wife, Bertha, had as its text “All things work together for good”. I had always taken the view that irrespective of what happens in life one has to make plans right away for the future, and keep occupied with as many things as possible.
If one has wide interests, this I am certain, is half the battle.
‘Roxana’ became the Headquarters for four houses. On one side stood ‘The Emeralds’, a big house with extensive gardens. On the other side of the road was a large house called ‘Longue Rue Villa’. The owners of both these properties had to make room for the Germans, while the family from ‘Malvern’, a smaller house on the other side of ‘Roxana’, had evacuated to England, but there were other people living there at the time, so they had to go and live somewhere else. At first seven Germans lived at ‘Roxana’, and in the other houses over thirty.
The Head Officer was rather a brute of a fellow, but not in any way to me, though he had little time for me, which I preferred. I wanted nothing to do with him. To those under him he appeared rather severe. I often picture him as an officer of the Old Prussian type which I had seen on papers and magazines connected with the First World War. He had a Bavarian batman who seemed to be a very nice chap, and there were five other officers. A Guernsey girl acted as maid for them for a few hours a week. This was after the first few days that they had occupied the house, when it was the Swiss maid I had previously mentioned.
One day I was working in the front garden weeding amongst the cabbages and cauliflowers where the lawn had been, when the Guernsey maid called out to me from one of the front bedrooms. “Could you come and examine your carpet?” she said. “The Germans have put a car battery on top of your new carpet. There has been a leakage of acid resulting in a square hole the size of the battery being burnt right down to the underfelt. Can you come and see if there is anything that can be done to prevent the acid from spreading, and the hole getting bigger? There are no Germans in the house now.”
I had seen that the Head Officer had just left in his high powered sports car.
With the information given in addition that there were no other Germans in the house, I decided to take the risk by looking at that room, although it was strictly forbidden for any civilian to enter. So I went up the stairs and was kneeling on the carpet examining the damage and discussing whether we could move the carpet around when I heard footsteps of someone coming up the stairs. It was the Head Officer. He had either been for a very short journey, or had forgotten something and returned to fetch it. When he saw me there was a torrent of abuse, both in German and in broken English. I am certain that many of the words he used could not be found in any German or English dictionary. He threatened to report me right away to the Feldkonnandantur, the Commandant of the Island. I thought it was wise to keep cool so I said quietly, “I’d better going now.” He followed me all the way down the stairs, outside the back door and right up the yard, till I got into the road, all the time threatening and being abusive.
For the next three days I kept thinking of this, as I thought he would report me. Nothing happened, so it did end up all right, but you never knew in such a situation when the Police or Gestapo would suddenly pounce on you or cross question you. Being unarmed you were always at the wrong end of the gun. I avoided going to work in the garden there for a few days. I thought this was the best policy, for if I had been around just after this event he might have got very angry indeed and would have acted to make a case of it.
My home was occupied by the German troops for two years and one month, and as far as I could calculate during that period, it was occupied by seven different lots of Germans.
It may be that some of them were called to go fighting on the battle fronts, but I do know that some of them went to live in another part of the Island, in one case in the parish of St. Martin’s. This meant quite a mix up of people’s furniture and effects, especially furniture. On some occasions they would say, we would like to take with us the settee we have in this house, or a certain sideboard, or dining room table and chairs to their new abode. Those coming into the house would bring some furniture from the place they had been previously staying in. When this had been done at least two or three times, one can imagine the mix up.
So when I was allowed to go back, this meant living on my own, as my wife had died and my son was being cared for by my in-laws. I found many of the things I had left were missing. In their place were a few odd pieces of furniture that had been put there as new lots of Germans had come to live in the house. Instead of bringing the things I had hidden from them back to the house, I managed with what had been left in the house. I did this because they could easily have put me out again.
This was July 1943 and it turned out that the occupation lasted until May 1945. I was fortunate not to be disturbed again as regards accommodation.

HIDDEN WIRELESS SETS

Apart from a few months, wireless sets were forbidden for the whole five years of the occupation. Right from the beginning many of us were quite surprised, and somewhat relieved, to read in the first rulings that we were allowed to keep our wireless sets. But very soon we lost the freedom of listening in to the BBC.
One day the Germans ordered all wireless sets to be handed in and this I did, and had a receipt to prove it. On the same day a few minutes after I had handed mine in, I heard of someone who had a set for sale, so I went to him and bought his.
The fact that I heard the British news every day of the German occupation of Guernsey was a great morale booster to me. To do this, it was necessary to change the hiding place on quite a few occasions and on more than one occasion I nearly got caught. There were just a few occasions when I heard the news while at some of my friends’ homes. Even on these occasions I did not tell them that I had a set of my own. I would listen again on returning home. During the autumn of 1943 when I was again living in my house, I had a very narrow escape indeed from being caught. Living alone, I had fixed for myself in my attic a wireless set. (This having been brought from a previous hiding place.) The attic was a big one stretching right across the house. It was fully boarded, in fact completely finished, and was reached by a Slingsby sliding stairway, which had been installed when the house was built. The wireless set was quite a good one, though a few years old. I had bought a vibrator at the same time as the set; I had also removed my battery from my Morris Eight car. There was quite a long indoor aerial and this was slung across the beams in the attic.
Everything was left out with no covering over it at all. Whenever I wanted to hear the British news it was just a matter o pulling down the sliding stairway and getting up to listen and being ready to come down if there was a knock at either the front or back door, or coming down to answer the telephone, though the telephone could be left to ring. I always made certain that both the doors were locked.
One morning I was listening to the British news when there was a vigorous knocking at the back door. So I hastily switched off the radio, came down the stairway, and put the stairway u again and came down quietly to see who was knocking. I always came down quietly so as to keep natural and composed, so that no one would detect any sense of fear or panic. I unlocked and opened the back door and there stood three German police. I realised later they were three of the dreaded Gestapo.
“We want to look around the house,” said one of them.
“Have you a permit?” I asked.
Promptly the one who had spoken showed me at slip of paper which said in English, ‘Permission to look around the house ‘Roxana’ which is situated at Longue Rue Vale’. There was something written in German and although I knew a little German I could not tell what it was all about.
As soon as the three Gestapo were in, the leading one said, “We want to look around the house as there may be another lot of Germans coming to live here.”
Very soon I realised that this was not what they had come for. They insisted I stay with them as they searched the house. They first of all searched the kitchen looking into all the cupboards and around the old bogie which the troops who had previously occupied the house had build in for cooking purposes.
Then we proceeded to the lounge which they searched fairly thoroughly, including taking out the armchair cushions and putting them back again.

Then the crossed the hall and one of them said, “Dining room.”
“Yes,” I said “ but not much food to put on the table.” I was glad I had said this even if just to break the silence a little, though I was determined to nothing to provoke them, for that would be playing into their hands. I had as a motto during the occupation, “Be cool, be calm, be natural’, especially when I was going through a testing and trying experience.
It was difficult to do this, but somehow I managed. They searched the dining room thoroughly, even to the extent of looking up the chimney and lifting the carpet in one corner and prodding two or three of the floorboards. In this room was a grand piano which I had hired from a friend of mine who was our church organist at Les Capelles Methodist Church. Incidentally he is still the organist of this church. Under the piano were loose floorboards where one could get under the house to a depth of three feet. Fortunately for me they did not spot that. They would have had to move the piano in order to lift the end of the carpet. I had under there hidden between two cement blocks, six leaflets that had been dropped by British planes at some time. These leaflets gave us an account of how the British were getting on at that time. It was strictly forbidden to pick up any one of them, and the penalty was not an easy one. Also under the floor were two pairs of heavy German Jack boots and if they had found these, they would no doubt have wanted to know how they had come to be in my possession.
After the dining room they looked around the breakfast room but not so thoroughly, and as they came out into the hall again they looked under the stairs. This used to house the sweeping brushes and sweeper and other articles, but I kept that fairly empty, as this would be suitable place to get in safety during any future air raid.
“Now we must look around upstairs,” said the spokesman.
I was hoping all the time that the search downstairs would be sufficient and I believe my heart must have leaped a little when he said this. I followed them up and they made straight for what is called the spare room, in the front of the house. Here they just searched a little, one of them looking under the two single beds. Then to the other front bedroom, then through the connecting door to one of the two back bedrooms. They opened the door of the toilet and shut it again, then when they opened the large airing cupboard they looked at it pretty thoroughly at different angles. Then to the bathroom where they looked carefully at the contents of the wall cupboard, then they whisked into the smaller bedroom and came out.
I was standing at the top of the stairs and when they came out of the small bedroom they faced me, and more or less stood in a line. This was the most difficult time to fact, for I had noticed while they were in the small bedroom that the chain which was used to pull down the sliding stairway was still swinging a little. It had a habit of doing this for quite a long time after I had pulled it up. Here they were standing under the swinging chain and wireless, battery, vibrator and aerial were just on the other side of that. I was about to turn away to walk downstairs, hoping they would follow me quickly out of the danger zone, but this was not to be. I was then submitted to a barrage of questions for about ten minutes.
First one would ask a question, then the next would ask another before I had hardly answered the first one. Then the third would have a go, hoping no doubt that I would during the pressure and heat of it all make some statement by which they would arrest me. The questions were mostly about wireless sets, British leaflets and British news. There were other questions which I just cannot remember now and all the time the chain was still swinging above their heads, but very slightly.

Something that could have been unnerving was that one of them kept tapping his hand on his holster which held a gun.
To my relief they then made a gesture for me to go downstairs and naturally there was no hesitation on my part. I could have opened the back door for them, but I was not inclined to do that sort of thing to enemies. Instead I allowed them to go past me in the hall, the idea being that they would not be thinking I was glad to see them go.
One of them opened the door and they went off turning left and down the yard in front of the garage. I quickly nipped to the lounge so that I could see which way they turned when they got to the road. They turned right and did not look back. I found it remarkable to have got away with this and regarded it, as I still do today, as the narrowest escape of my life. For they would have had only to pull the Slingsby sliding stairway halfway down and they would have easily spotted the aerial. The penalty would have been three or six months in prison, or three or six months in a concentration camp in France or Germany, and this could happen without a trial.
I realised then that it was too risky to leave the wireless set in the attic, or anywhere else in the house, because they sometimes had a way of coming back again or sending someone else to take you by surprise. It was then imperative that I should remove it from the house and take it to another hiding place.
Half a mile away at Les Rouvets were the glasshouses where I traded. In the big shed was a hand truck about four feet wide and nine feet long. So I walked the half mile fairly quickly, keeping as cool as possible, but thinking and planning all the time, and took the truck out of the shed and walked with it quickly as possible to the house, pulling it up to the back door, I fetched a couple of empty glass boxes from my garage.
I then went upstairs and into the attic to bring down first the battery, they up again for the vibrator and aerial and finally the wireless set. As I brought down the set I brought down two sheets of brown paper. I used the paper to cover the contents of the glass boxes. I proceeded down the drive and turned right, but to my amazement the same three Germans who had questioned me were just about a hundred yards away walking towards me. The motto was observed again, “Be cool, be calm, be natural”, and I prayed fervently during those few seconds.
It was still morning, so although I had seen them less than half an hour before, I said Guten Morgen which is Good Morning, and they all replied, one of them brushing or almost brushing the side of the truck. After they had said good morning to me, I said under my breath, “Good Riddance”, and then I prayed to God that everything would be all right for the half mile I still had to go.
It was perhaps fortunate that it was a day with very little breeze, because although keeping cool, I may not have pressed down the brown paper tight enough, and if it had blown away, I would have had no chance whatsoever, for the wireless set and all the other things pertaining to it would have been revealed. I heaved a sigh of relief and I remember saying to myself, ‘Les, keep the same speed. You will soon be around the corner of the road’. Just before taking the corner I looked back and say they were right at the other end of the road, taking the other corner.
I checked the brown paper and made certain it was very secure, then at the same speed with my eye fixed forward I continued my journey and after another five minutes I arrived at the shed. I had planned as to where I would hide it, while I was fetching the truck.
I had been a grower of asparagus fern, and between my father and myself grew quite a quantity of it. We also grew a crop of tomatoes amongst the fern. In fact practically the whole of the two thousand feed of glass, which was nearly one and a half acres was in asparagus fern.
Towards the end of 1938 and the beginning of 1939 we realised there would very likely be a war and naturally we stocked what we could of cardboard boxes into which the fern went for export. Then we kept replenishing until near the time approaching the German occupation. Our stock was somewhere the German occupation. Our stock was quite a big one and as far as I can remember somewhere around the eight thousand mark. Five thousand of these were in a big pile. I had decided to put the wireless set right in the middle of this pile. I had decided to put the wireless set right in the middle of this pile, but making in the centre a cavity sufficient for me to lie in and listen unperturbed. This meant moving quite a few bundles, rearranging the ones where the cavity would be and after placing the aerial and earth where it would not be seen, I finished placing the other bundles in front so that when anyone walked in at any time they would just see a pile of cardboard boxes.
From then on it was a fairly simple matter to pull out a few bundles, get in towards the cavity and get them back into position as I prepared myself to hear the British news. I had just completed the task of making this cavity when two of the workers came into the shed. I realised how fortunate I had been because although they were trustworthy, they could easily have slipped out a word or two in ordinary conversation to people they met after working hours. I operated entirely by myself on all these things, because I realised the risk was great.
I should imagine the wireless set remained there for about five weeks. During that shot time there was one occasion when I had to switch it off, and lie still in the cavity for an extra ten minutes. This was because one afternoon when listening to the British news, I suddenly found there were quite a number of Germans practising skirmishing around the shed, so I waited till they were well away.
During 1944 I was growing some of my own foodstuffs, as a ruling had been made some weeks before that, which enabled a grower to work his own glasshouses or part of them. Previous to that we had all worked for the state at a small fixed wage. I had decided to work three out of the twelve glasshouses. It was a very risky business, because as food became short, robberies increased, but one would be more certain of some vegetables and fruit and I would also have some to sell to one or two retail shops.
One day I had a few tomatoes and vegetables which were extra to my requirements, so I decided to take them to shop. This shop was over two miles away from the glasshouses. The only means of transport in those days was by bicycle with just a few people able to use a horse or pony.
My means of transport apart from shanks’ pony was a bicycle. By that time, tyres were unavailable and when one was completely useless I cut a piece of greenhouse hose and stuffed it very firmly with hay. This was placed very tightly around the rim of the bicycle wheel and secured firmly with wire in two or three places. This was not a novelty or a piece of ingenuity on my part as there must have been hundreds of people who had to resort to this. I counted myself fortunate compared to some cyclists as I had only one of these at a time, the front one. There must have been many with both tyres like this. Had a sort of basket arrangement in front of the handlebars and all produce has to be carried on this, sometimes as much as fifty to sixty pounds.
Because of the heavy load I had to walk up most of the hills and go very slow even on level roads. When returning empty I had no uphill to encounter, so came back at quite a speed.

On arrival on this particular day, I handed over the produce to the shopkeeper. She was unknown to me as this was the first time I had taken produce there. She must have been about forty years of age. I was paid after agreement of price in German occupation Marks, which was the currency used by all. She then said to me quietly, although there was no one else in the shop, “Would you like to hear the British news?” As on any previous occasion when anyone had asked me this question, I had straightaway said, “Yes.” I had good reason for this. By answering in the affirmative, it would show great eagerness, as if I had not had any chances of hearing the news, so the person concerned would think I had no wireless.
In front of the counter was a cooker. She sat on an old apple box and I sat on an orange box. She then opened the cooker, and hidden at the back was a wireless set which she promptly switched on. This was in broad daylight. We heard the first few minutes of the British news, then the door suddenly opened and in walked a German soldier. The lady had made the mistake on this occasion in her eagerness to hear the news, of not locking the door, which was only a few feet away. He could straightaway see our concern and said in broken English, “It is quite all right, I no mind I will listen also.”
This was a very difficult situation. I could see the woman was trembling, though trying no doubt to keep as calm as possible. One thought flashed through my mind. The situation would be made still worse if the shop door was left unlocked and someone else would walk in. So I said to the owner, “Would it be wise to lock the door while we listen?” and she agreed, so I stood up and locked the door. Then I suddenly thought it would be wiser still to also put the closed sign in the window as an extra precaution, and with the owner’s consent I did this.
I think the German was amused at the extra precautions I was taking, but he did not say anything. After a few minutes the German soldier said “Thank you,” so the lady switched off the set, closed the cooker and we all put our boxes back. She then proceeded to sell him what he wanted. Then we let him out and waited till he was well out of sight.
By this time she was terribly concerned lest he would report the incident, although he seemed concerned that no one else would know that he had listened to the British news. I found this rather puzzling, because had had been amused at the extra precautions we had taken in locking the door and putting the Closed sign in the window.
Without hesitation she said to me, “Could you get rid of the set for me?” In one way this seemed to me to be a tall order. I had only been in the shop a short while and hardly knew her. In any case taking it along the road on a bicycle in broad daylight seemed to me to be very risky. Then she said she had a friend near Lancresse Common, where the Island golf course is situated and they knew about the wireless set. They had promised her that if she was ever in danger of being discovered and wanted to get rid of it, she could take it there. Having that information I decided to go on this errand. I loaded the wireless set and the other parts on to the front of my bicycle and covered it very thoroughly, knowing that I now had to cycle four and a half miles to get to Lancresse Common.
My instructions were to put the set in a certain shed covered up. The shed would be open and I had to place it on the bench. It would not be necessary to ask for anyone. I decided too that if on the way over this four and a half miles I met any other friend or civilian who would want to have a chat, I would say, “Sorry I cannot stop, I am already late for an appointment.”
Half and hour later I arrived safely and quickly placed it on the bench in the shed without seeing anyone, and as far as I know no one saw me. To this day I do not know who that shed belonged to during the occupation. I now had to cycle two to two and a half miles back home, feeling quite relieved and feeling too a sense of real satisfaction in helping someone, and I hoped my efforts had been successful. It was a lovely day for cycling, and although this took two hours of my time (that is from the time I left with the fruit and vegetables), I felt very happy. But in the evening and for the next day or two, the experiences of that day occupied a lot of my thoughts. Would they search the place? Would the German soldier report to his superiors or to the police? F so, would he recognise me again? Would this? and would that? Nevertheless I do not think I lost much sleep over it.
Quite a few weeks later I heard on good authority that the place had been thoroughly searched either by the German Police or the German Gestapo and that the owner was no longer living there. I had made absolutely certain not to travel that way. Hearing this news many weeks later, I reassured myself that everything once again must be all right for me.
Another place where I hid the forbidden wireless was over the goat stable at Les Rouvets. This was only for a few days though. This set was hidden carefully in the beams. It was necessary for one to climb up a small ladder consisting of seven or eight rungs to get into the loft. The method was to pull the ladder up so that if anyone looked into the shed which did not have a lock, seeing a loft without a ladder would not have his suspicions aroused. One day I thought I would nip into the loft to hear the news. I noticed the ladder was placed for climbing into the loft. Normally it was left like that by me, for after coming down from the loft I would pull it down and place it on the side of the stable a little further along.
I hesitated to climb it and heard what seemed to be a wireless. Sure enough it was one of my peacetime staff who eventually became my foreman after the war. He was listening to the news, not on my radio, for he was on the other side of the loft, mine was on the near side. He had fixed his own radio behind another beam and was listening in. He did not know at the time that I had mine on the other side.
On a few occasions I visited an uncle of mine who lived in a very big house where my maternal grandparents had previously lived. He was able to keep on living in his home, but a few Germans were billeted in a few downstairs rooms. His hidden wireless was amongst the beams in the attic of this four storey house. On the average I suppose we were about eight of us at a time hearing the news in this attic. Some of them went every day. In order to enter the house it meant walking through the same front door. So as to avoid suspicion, we used to arrive at different times. For instance if the news was on the hour, one of us would probable arrive about twenty minutes before the hour and the others at different intervals. This proved to be very successful. Amongst the ones who came to hear the news was one of the most prominent statesmen of our Island.
I could relate many stories from other people’s experiences, but space does not permit, as I wish in the next chapters to dwell on other personal experiences in other fields of activity. These experiences seemed to boost my morale no end and it was interesting to compare throughout the occupation of the Island, the different claims from each side. Our local paper had to print the German news, which was mostly on the front page each day, and if people only read this without hearing anything about the British news, they could have become very depressed. Some unfortunately did, and one can understand this, but it was those who dared to listen and let others know, either by work of mouth or by printing and distribution, who gave hope and faith to their fellow men.

THE CURFEW

There was a curfew throughout the occupation, but the times varied. It started with 11 p.m. to 6 a.m. Sometimes curfew was increased as a sort of punishment, because some people had been caught breaking some of the main rulings of the occupation forces. Quite naturally this sort of retaliation made very little difference and I believe that some of the German higher authorities realised this. But in the sort of situation we were in, the wise person (and I believe most were), would learn the art of disobeying certain rulings if it helped his fellow men. He had to make certain in doing this that at the same time he gave full support in every possible way to our local Controlling Committee. Most of them were Guernsey born and bred and the others were British by birth and they had lived and served Guernsey very faithfully. After all, they all gave their utmost devoted service in a remarkable way and they deserved the support of every Guernsey man in this unusual and extremely difficult testing time. There were very strict rulings and penalties for anyone found disobeying the curfew rulings.
When I was allowed to go and live back in my home after the Germans had lived there for two years and one month, there were about thirty to thirty-five Germans still living in the three houses around me. At night a couple of German guards used to patrol around the block (as we used to call it), a distance of three quarters of a mile. Round the block meant simply starting from the house on the opposite side of ‘Roxana’ and down the road called Longue Rue. First sight at Camp du Roi and turning right again at Abreveurs Lane and back into Longue Rue, and to opposite ‘Roxana’.
I thought it was wide to study the method used by the guards in going around the area. The best way to do this was to watch for one or two nights or more from my balcony. It was built in such a way that I could be there without being detected, and I would peep over the top carefully. So one evening about eleven o’clock the weather being fine, I opened the french windows and dragged a mattress on to the balcony floor. I had to do this crawling along so as not to be seen by them and lie there ready to watch their movements. They were exactly opposite the balcony on the other side of the road by the big gateway. It was unfortunate that after ten or fifteen minutes the unexpected happened, for it started to rain and finished with a heavy shower. So I had to pull the mattress away again and cancel that attempt to watch their movements for that evening. Everything had to be done as quietly as possible as the least sound would have aroused suspicion. I also had to operate without a light because of the strict black out ruling.
I said to myself, ‘I must not be deterred’; another opportunity would soon arise. Two nights later my wish was realised as the weather was very good. So I got everything in its place and prepared for studying the movements of the two guards. This is what happened. They would both leave at exactly the same time, one aiming to go around the block by turning to the left and the other to the right. They would both step it out at exactly the same speed and the length of their strides seemed to be identical. They must have met halfway around the block and would have arrived at the same time. One would never leave without the other so there was always an area with no guard in sight. I studied this on another evening and exactly the same thing happened. Also on other
nights without going on to the balcony, I checked that there were only two guards, not three or four. I realised now that by their thoroughness, in their way they were vulnerable. With this information I knew that if by chance or by choice, I came home after curfew, I could get through to my home without being detected.
During the occupation most of us, especially younger people, met in one another’s homes once a fortnight or so to make our own entertainment.
About twenty of us used to meet and we would have sing song and some would play the piano or the violin, and there would be recitations, solos and duets.
This was a good boost to everyone’s morale, as often there was not a great deal to do in the evenings, and it would mean an all round saving of heat and light, for we were very restricted. There were times when I left fifteen or twenty minutes later that I should have done and travelling on a bicycle, sometimes four or five miles, I would be cycling part of the way after curfew.
However, the first night I was late by about twenty minutes, I was getting excited to try out my new scheme. On this occasion I had cycled five miles. Getting close to my destination I stayed at the end of one road looking towards the corner at which I had to turn right to get to my home. Within seconds I could see one of the German guards walking down the road away from me, I know that from my studies of their movements. The other one might be an equal distance away down the other road around the block. So as soon as the one I could see was out of sight, I cycled in knowing that for a few minutes at least the other was well clear as well. The system had worked perfectly, and I heaved a sigh of relief. I was so happy about it all. I went to play the piano I had hired for half an hour. I remember after this, making a cup of bramble tea and then and then I slipped into bed. I can assure you I slept very soundly.
There was always the danger of meeting the German soldiers or German police on the road after curfew. On one occasion I was only just about half a mile from home when I spotted ahead of me two German soldiers, cycling at a fairly steady speed. They were riding abreast just thirty yards ahead. I was not certain if they know I was riding behind them, it was already twenty minutes after curfew. In the stillness of the night, the sound of a bicycle could easily be detected, especially if the road was not too smooth. This particular road was in need of a lot of repair.
I had to think quickly and decided to gradually overtake them, and be quite natural and say as I passed, Gute nacht, which is “Good night”.
I did this and they both said Gute nacht, and I kept gaining on them. Turning the corner towards my home, I was about thirty yards ahead of them. I made certain not to look back after that and cycled straight to my back door, quickly unlocking it and taking the bicycle in with me.
Safe again. Well perhaps they were not bothered, but one never knew. The bicycle was always taken in the house, not left in the garage, as many bicycles were getting stolen at the time, some by foreign prisoners of war, and occasionally someone local. The Germans did not need to steal bicycles as they were well supplied with them and their bicycles were very strong indeed.
As we came towards the end of the occupation we could take rather greater risks in what we said to the Germans, especially lower ranks. One night after I had been to someone’s home about five miles away, I came back with six other friends. We were about half an hour after curfew as we came close to some of our homes. In addition to breaking the curfew rule we were riding two abreast and that was wrong, and one of our number did not have sufficient black out to his bicycle lamp. We suddenly saw a few yards ahead of us, two armed Germans doing their road patrol duty. They quickly put up their hands as they stepped into the centre of the road to make us stop, which we all did.
They told us that we were out after curfew, that we were riding two abreast, and they pointed to the one who had insufficient black out to his lighting equipment, and muttered to one another something about it. “You will all have to go to prison,” one of them said. I told them we would not be able to go to prison, as there was a waiting list for people going to prison. They did not deny this, as this was the fact at this period of the occupation. I assumed by their non denial that they must have had full knowledge of this. I cannot remember not what the conversation was for the next minute or two, but they finished up by saying something German, which translated would mean something like, “Buzz off!” We lost no time, while the going was good, in getting away. We all felt safe after this, as during the conversation they had not asked to see our identity cards, so they did not know our names or addresses. In addition they had not taken the numbers of our bicycles, which would have led to them finding out who we were, as all bicycles in Guernsey are taxed and have a number displayed, which includes a letter denoting the parish we lived in.
In my case I was taking home the young lady I was interested in at the time, and she lived about three quarters of a mile away from my home. This meant that after I had taken Zilma home at Courtil Quartier, Rue Sauvage, I had to come back to ‘Roxana’. I decided the wisest thing to do was to come back a different way, so as to avoid those two German guards, hoping not to meet any others. The route I chose was a mile and a quarter but proved to be quite safe, though I had to be very careful. Incidentally, I eventually married Zilma in 1946.
I had another somewhat different experience of being out after curfew for just a couple of minutes. One evening I was in my kitchen, sitting at the table. I was studying Italian under the light of a carbide lamp, the lamp I normally used on my bicycle. Electricity was in short supply for a certain period of the occupation, so if one wanted to do a lot of reading, it was necessary to find other forms of lighting. Although living alone I always kept myself fully occupied and continually made plans for the future.
I had always been fascinated in studying to a small degree new languages. I had gathered a little knowledge of German and this had proved quite a boon, and resulted on a few occasions in keeping me out of difficult situations. I knew French because this was compulsory in school, but I was interested in getting a smattering of Italian and Spanish.
I had a few weeks previously, put an advert in our local paper “The Guernsey Evening Press”, for books for learning these two languages. The response had been favourable and came quickly and this kept me occupied three or four hours a week.
My blackout in the kitchen was excellent so no light could be seen. After about half an hour studying, I heard footsteps outside the window. Then a moment later, I heard someone trying the door handle. The door was locked as always, but I decided to rush out to see who it was. In doing so, I knocked a chair over, but I opened the door as quickly as I could and saw someone running away, a hefty figure. I could not tell in the darkness whether it was a German or a Russian prisoner of war, or any other prisoner. I chased him into the next property, ‘The Emeralds’, where the Germans were still living, and were in a hut in the garden, seven Russian prisoners were kept. I missed him amongst the bushes and trees, therefore carefully got back inside. I was dangerous to do this as I believe at that period of the occupation there was a ruling that a German would be allowed to shoot anyone out after curfew. I never got to know anything further about this, and in any case it would have been too risky to prove any further. If it was one of the Russian prisoners of war he would have got into very serious trouble with the German authorities as the curfew applied to the prisoners in the same way as it applied to us.
These Russians had been captured at Minsk and had been brought over to Guernsey. I had avoided them as much as possible, as on of them would stop me if he saw me coming out of the gate and would ask me if I knew the latest British news. As they knew no English and very little German, I just used to shake my hands expressing the fact that I know nothing at all. There could easily have been an informer amongst them. They were terribly short of food, even worse that we were, and it would appear that some were rewarded with a little extra food for useful information to the Germans.
The curfew was to a means of changing many people’s habits, during these difficult times. Some learnt a new language, some studied new subjects and some discovered new talents by taking part in organised concerts.

WORSHIP

At the beginning of the occupation, one of the rulings which gave all worshipping people encouragement, whatever their denomination, was that ‘Assembles for Divine Worship’ were permitted. Added to this were the words ‘Prayers for the British Royal Family and for the British Empire may be said’.
I had a particular interest in this as I had become a fully qualified Methodist Lay Preacher in May 1933 and had thoroughly enjoyed answering this call to service. Before a few weeks had elapsed, the Salvation Army were not allowed to worship on their own premises. There were three Army Corps in the Island, one at L’Islet, one at St. Sampson’s, the other at St. Peter Port. They were banned partly because no other uniform was allowed, apart from the German uniform, also no doubt they did not like the idea of another Army being mentioned. They often tried to emphasise that there was only one real army, the German Army.
There were at that time thirty-two Methodist Churches on the Island. They were divided into two circuits. For practical reasons mostly under occupation conditions, they became united into one circuit. This was a temporary measure while the war lasted. I had always been in favour of this in peace time, but it was never possible to get enough people to realise the value of it. But here was an unusual situation, some of our ministers were called to serve in England and there were a few lay preachers who had been evacuated.
We were still left with the same number of Methodist Churches and only one at Forest had to close down because it was so close to the airport. The situation was eased slightly by the fact that a small number of churches who normally had two services decided to have only one. But it meant a much smaller number of lay preachers and ministers had to cope, and this meant that after the ministers were planned twice a Sunday, the number to be taken by lay preachers was quite substantial. Personally I averaged ten or more appointments per quarter, but it was a voluntary service which I thoroughly enjoyed as I do to this day. It is a fact that seven out of ten appointments in the Methodist Church are taken by a lay preacher.
Because the Salvation Army were banned from worshipping on their own premises, they decided to worship elsewhere. This was done individually, but the majority did worship for the remainder of the occupation in the Methodist Churches. Amongst their members were a few who were capable of taking a service in a Methodist Church and they were very welcome and some of them were given a few opportunities to use their talents in this way.
The Germans had issued right at the beginning of the occupation, just a few weeks after the commencement, a list of rulings to be observed by ministers and laymen. One of these rulings stated that no one was to use the word ‘forces’. I suppose they were afraid that they would be referred to in this way and many things objectionable to them would be preached.
As soon as I received by post a copy of these rulings to be observed, sent by the Superintendent Minister of the Methodist Churches, I referred to my dictionary. From the dictionary I jotted down all the words which meant ‘forces’, and I know after that when using these words in a service, the congregation knew what and who I was referring to. Words that were used were warriors, soldiers, fighters, recruits, cohorts, squads and many others. We never knew when anyone would be in a service ready to report and betray us, but I cannot recall curtailing anything I was guided to say or wished to say. The link which I had with all the congregations whenever I went was very strong indeed, and the support I had was tremendous inspiration and encouragement to me. These things still live with me. In particular when I was going through a most difficult time as has been mentioned in a previous chapter, the concern of the people and the prayers offered, the extensive enquiries made, the sympathy bestowed, helped me face the future with courage, strength, confidence and determination.
I always thought that the Rev. Douglas Ord who was stationed in Guernsey during the war years made many brave and daring remarks during his services. He was the minister of what was then known as Brock Road Methodist Church, but due to the closing down of Ebenezer Methodist Church, is now known as Ebenezer Brock Road Methodist Church. Many brave remarks were also made by Rev. Philip Romeril who was minister at St. Sampson’s Methodist Church. He also held a group whereby anyone from any denomination or none at all could meet with him in a home and discuss freely matters on religion and other subjects.
I had the privilege of attending a few of these and found them very fruitful. Of the two hundred services that I conducted during the occupation, there was only one occasion when one of the German soldiers attended my service. He was in uniform so I was not mistaken. I had just started the morning service in one of the western Methodist Churches when he walked in.
It made me think a little during the first part of the service, but I decided to do exactly what I had planned and say nothing different because of his presence. I need have had no reason for concern at all, for at the end of the service, I got my coat from the vestry and as I walked in the yard, he was coming towards me.
Straightaway he opened up the conversation and after thanking me for the service, he started crying and he pulled out from his wallet a photograph of himself, his wife and family. He was human and appeared to be a good Christian, and I am absolutely certain he was not supporting the Nazi cause, as was the case in the Island. We had a short conversation and then he said, ‘I must go away quickly for I am not really allowed to be here. I would be punished if my superiors know.’ He then made a hurried retreat and I realised then that this was the best thing for him to do. I was very glad of that experience.
All the travelling to the various churches had to be done on foot or by bicycle. I always used a bicycle. The furthest church from where I lived was seven miles away. On the average I suppose it was four miles, so that with the return journey, I must have cycled for preaching purposes over one thousand six hundred miles during the five years of occupation. But how wonderfully rewarding. The way one could help people and the way they helped me, cannot be mentioned in real terms. I am convinced that about all those at that time who gave the same voluntary service, would confirm this.
When preaching at St. Sampson’s Methodist Church, I was often highly honoured to have in the congregation Sir John Leale, who so valiantly guided us throughout the occupation. He used to sit in the back row and I was very thrilled to hear his comments after the service, especially when he said he found the message very apt.
Congregations from other denominations found as we did, that people in all walks of life were brought much closer together because of the difficult situation. The percentage who worshipped was much higher than in peace time.
Quite a few of the weekly functions of the Church were kept going and for the number of people left in the Island the attendance was very good. It was necessary at times to change the times of meetings to save light and fuel.

Everyone seemed so willing to face up to things because of our dilemma. One of the readings which had great effect was the Psalm, “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble”.
One of the hymns that was used often and seemed a greater help than ever before was Henry Kirke White’s “Oft in danger, oft in woe, Onward Christian, onward go, Fight the fight, maintain the strife, Strengthened with the bread of life”.
Charles Wesley’s hymn, “Soldiers of Christ arise and put your armour on”, was also a great encouragement to me.
It would have been most interesting if someone had kept a record of hymns sung during those strenuous and painful five years, but near the top of the list would have come Cecil Frances Alexander’s “Jesus calls us o’er the tumult of our life’s wild restless sea”.
Then because many of our people were in England and further afield, one hymn that was often sung with great emotion and feeling was “Holy Father in Thy mercy, Hear our anxious prayer. Keep our loved ones now far distant ‘neath Thy Care”.
One of the amazing things was the great financial response during this five year period. We were all living on a pittance and there was hardly any trade. Exports which were always regarded as the essential lifeline were non-existent. Neither did the Methodist Church confine themselves to giving just for local needs. During those lean times the amount raised for Overseas Missionary Work was quite staggering, when you consider, no profits from trading, very low fixed wages, and many other stresses, strains and frustrations.
It was so frustrating, especially for a man with initiative and business ideas. The outlets for the use of them were extremely limited. Although we were in danger of becoming engrossed in all our troubles, the Methodist Church set a great example of defeating self interests, by constantly reminding us of the plight of the outside world.
Many missionary meetings were held and great enthusiasm was shown by attendance and contribution. An amazing thing happened, for when Liberation came, the Channel Islands were able to send over to the Missionary Headquarters in London, the sum of £4,443. This included £1,194 for Women’s Work and £3,249 for the General Work. Guernsey had an excellent share in raising this amount. It was absolutely necessary for the funds during the war years to be banked in the name of different treasurers for fear that the German Authorities might confiscate the funds. They would very likely have regarded this as a British concern. Towards the end of the occupation, the Germans needed the church I worshipped in for their own service at 9.30 am and would come out just in time for us to start at 10.30 am.
One had to respect them in this way, for they never forced us to change our time, and on the whole we were able to start fairly promptly.
At that time we were in some ways the privileged ones, for this was after D-Day. All supplies for the Germans had been cut off, so the amount of food available for them, which used to come from France, had been drastically cut. You could tell what effect it was having on them, for whereas the ordinary troops had looked healthy and sturdy, you could see so many of them with their tunics hanging on them. They had lost so much weight and some of the cheekbones were more visible. This would be noticed so dramatically as they filed passed us outside the main doors of the church.
We were then getting one Red Cross parcel of food on a monthly basis. Anyone coming into our church would have detected from that air of confidence we had then, that it would not be too long now for the coming of Liberation.

HOW WE FARED FOR FOOD

There was no time lost at the beginning of the occupation with the introduction of strict rationing.
One of the questions my wife and I have been asked on many occasions when we have been lecturing in different parts of Sussex and anywhere in England is, “Since nearly half the population was evacuated, why was there such great difficulty as regards food supplies?” The answers we give in the talks which total forty-five at the time of writing, is that although the population of the island people was reduced from 42,000 to 23,000, on the average throughout the occupation, there were 10,000 or so German troops and 10,000 or so prisoners of war. These all had to be fed and that meant at least as many months to feed as if there had been no evacuation. We had to remember too, that the war had been on for ten months before we were occupied, so the island was already getting short of food, clothing and other necessities.
Within a week, meat, butter, bacon, ham and sugar were rationed. Two days later more goods were added to the ration list. These included on a weekly basis, 1 ounce of salt, 3 ounces of tea, 4 ounces of coffee and 2 ounces of cocoa. There was also a reduction in the sugar ration from eight ounces to six.
Hotels and restaurants were ordered to have meatless days on Tuesdays and Fridays.
It was amusing to us that the Germans ordered, not just asked for, a greater consumption of tomatoes as there were hundreds of tons left. We certainly would eat them without being ordered to, and I always said we continued to eat tomatoes till we looked like them.
One of the important things we have to remember here, is that our position in Guernsey and the other Channel Islands was unique.
Living on an area of twenty-five square miles, the density of population was very high per square mile, occupied by the German Army, cut off from the rest of the world. This meant no exports or imports. Eggs became very scarce, for in peace time the vast majority of eggs were imported. Very few had been produced in the Island as it had not been economical to do so. Even the number of people keeping fowls in their back garden for their own consumption had reduced over the previous ten years.
These were then in very short supply and the price was straightaway fixed at two shillings and seven pence per dozen. In today’s terms that would be about thirteen new pence.
For the vast majority the wages had been fixed at about £2 per week. If anyone was lucky enough to purchase a dozen eggs, this would mean about six and a half per cent of their weekly income. Compare the situation today with a person who earns £60 a week, the price of eggs would then be nearly £4 per dozen.
Although meat was rationed to two or three ounces a week, there were many meatless weeks. Those of us who lived in the country and especially those who owned or rented land, resorted to keeping rabbits, so that every now and again the killing of a rabbit would supplement the meat ration. The only problem there was the feeding. This had to be done by gathering milk thistles and certain weeds that rabbits generally eat. It was difficult to get anything else. Town people were at a disadvantage, but a few of them managed to find enough timber to make a hutch or two, and found some way of rearing up a few.
When we look at the milk position, we find that the 1051 children who stayed, and the babies who were born during the occupation, were very well treated under the circumstances. They were allowed one pint each day of our good quality Guernsey milk, while adults had most of the time, half a pint a day of skimmed milk.
Bread is always recognised as a most important staple food. This was rationed all the time and rightly so. All those responsible did all in their power to keep the quality, though there were times when it must have been most difficult to do so.
The average bread ration was around four pounds ten ounces a week for manual workers and much less for women and children. This may sound a good quantity, but consider that gradually the stocks of flour were used up, and anything else like cakes and the usual things made with flour were almost unobtainable. Potatoes were rationed at five pounds a week, but it was not always possible to obtain them.
There were times when the bread was rather soggy, but we seemed to acquire the taste for something quite inferior to what we had been accustomed, because there were no alternative. Jokingly we referred to this kind of bread as our ‘stable’ food, instead of our staple food. I regarded the most difficult time as being towards the end of the occupation when we had three weeks with no bread at all.
For the last two years of the occupation, growers had the opportunity of being able to work all or part of their glasshouses for themselves. They could not grow exactly what they liked, but had to keep to a certain schedule. When a man, such as myself, who had always been fond of responsibility and/or organising things on your own property, or one which you rented, you felt a terrible sense of frustration when you just had to work for the State on a fixed wage. It meant that so few of your talents could be used to good effect and hardly any plans could be put into action. Though very little extra could be done because of the dilemma as an Island in not being able to export, it would give that extra stimulus to feel a little more independent.
There were a few growers who took advantage of this situation and though there was no real intention of profit there were more foodstuffs produced in this way. There was some encouragement in the fact that a few business talents were being used to good effect.
We had been encouraged to grow melons, so I put a section of the glass I was working in melons. We were allowed to sell to local people, our own friends, but not allowed to sell to the Germans. This was a very good ruling.
One day I had forty melons for sale, and I had them lined up on a few benches in the big shed. Alongside each of the melons was a tab with the name of the person I was selling to, and the price of the melon. These people were due to collect them during the afternoon. We weighed by kilos and the smaller ones were about one and a quarter kilos and some over three kilos.
I was tidying up a little in the shed when I noticed coming up the drive two Germans on motor cycles riding abreast escorting three cars, and I caught a glimpse of a flag or pennant on the bonnet of the first car. I wondered what it was all about.
I soon knew because the escorts and all the others came into the shed and made towards the benches of melons. One German introduced me to the Feldkommandatur of the Island and I realised when I was photographs of these a few days later in the Press, that the one who made the introduction was second in command. The introduction was simply by statement, not by shaking of hands.
They looked at the melons and said, ‘What a lovely lot,’ and I must admit, and this is not attempt to boast, they were first class melons.
‘The Kommandantur is interested in buying all these melons,’ said the spokesman, the second in command. ‘What were they after?’ I said to myself. Could it be that they were trying to catch me out, because the ruling was against selling to them? I felt somehow a bit lonely and helpless, the only civilian in the shed, unarmed and here were fourteen armed Germans, including the top brass of the Island.
Plucking up courage after a slight hesitation in giving the answer, I said, ‘I am sorry I cannot sell you any of these, because as you can see I have promised them to some of my friends. These are regular customers, and to sell to anyone else would be letting them down. Supposing you had promised your friends some melons, would you let them down at the last moment?’
The thoughts that went through my mind then were, ‘Have I said too much, or have I phrased the words in the right way?’
Three of them immediately made a little circle and I heard them discussing this in German.
Those few seconds were tense for me. Then they said to my surprise, ‘Very well, that will be all right, but what about those six melons at the end of the bench? They have no name on them.’ It so happened that after getting ready the forty melons for selling, there were six rather inferior ones which I did not thing right to sell to anyone. They did not wait for my answer, but put down a certain number or marks on the bench and took away these six.
In spite of the difficult situation I really had to smile, because two of these melons had been slightly eaten by rats, and as I had not cleaned them out yet, they contained a few rat droppings. They said ‘Thank you’, and quickly got into their cars and the two escort men were ready to escort them away.
I heaved a sigh of relief and went and related the story to the others who were working for the Glasshouse Utilisation Board, on the remainder of the property.
A few weeks later a German who had his right arm in a sling, demanded to buy a melon. I flatly refused and he became quite abusive and threatening. I kept telling him, I was not allowed to sell to the Germans, and I eventually told him to get out. He persisted in his demand, so I thought, ‘Well, he will be punished if I report him’, so I said, ‘I shall report you to the Feldkommandatur.’ He used some abusive language in reply, though I could detect a shadow of fear creeping over him. I then caught hold of his left arm and gradually moved him away to the main road.
I suppose wisely I would not have done this if he had not had one arm in a sling. One had to remember, we were always at the wrong end of the gun.
It became necessary to hide things more than ever as we came towards the end of the year 1942, as the German Police and Gestapo would often be looking inside and outside houses, at times giving different reasons for what they were actually doing, or in some cases not giving any reason at all.
They were not always looking for wireless sets, they were also on the lookout for anyone hoarding foodstuffs. There were many people who kept poultry and rabbits, who took them in a room of their house as because of the food situation, stealing was on the increase. A large number of foreign prisoners of war were really starving and even seed potatoes would be stolen and used for eating.
I think it must have been sometime in 1944 that I had kept three hundred weight of seed in my breakfast room. One evening when I came home, I found that about one hundred weight of this seed had been stolen while I had been out. I could never make out how the thief had gone in and got out again, but it would not have done any good reporting this, because there were so many similar cases to deal with.
There was another occasion when I had planted a greenhouse of about a tenth of an acre in potato seed. During the night over a third of it was dug up and stolen. Although the potato seed was green and very hard, people boiled these potatoes and were quite content to eat them because the food situation was so desperate. Normally these potatoes would have only been fed to fowls and pigs.
I therefore had to find some more seed and take the chance of planting in the gaps, and this time I was lucky in not being disturbed again till the harvesting of the crop. It was not always possible to get a heavy crop, as fertilisers were in short supply, and the soil had been tired by continual cropping. No one could afford to leave any gap between the harvesting of one crop and the planting of another. We were particularly grateful though for what we were able to eventually get from France in the form of fertilisers and seeds. Thanks were due to those who had been given authority to purchase certain goods for our civilian population.
Potatoes were hidden in all sorts of places in people’s homes. Some under floorboards, some in grandfather clocks, and some under pillows. They became very precious to most people. In the spring of 1942 owing to the potato famine, and the requisitioning of all vegetables by the Germans, semi-starvation reached high water mark. We noticed that the death rate rose alarmingly amongst the aged and infirm. The townspeople were certainly the worst off, but even many country people were very little better.
There were some townspeople who were known to queue for hours, often in a fainting condition, to purchase a few parsnips and turnips. There were even a few cases where potato peelings had been sold for two or three pence per pound. Often long and arduous hours of labour had to be put in order to obtain only part of what we wanted, but nevertheless we were thankful for anything. We thanked God for everything that came our way. Even turnip tops were cooked and eaten by a few families, when nothing else was available.
The growing of sweetcorn was encouraged and this could be very useful. We used to put it through a grinder and made flour from it. We resorted too, to making potato flour if we had enough potatoes. This took a lot of time to get ready but became useful for thickening our very thin soups. Blancmanges and custards were sometimes made with this potato four. In order to enjoy the food we were eating, it was good psychology to use our imagination and think it was a better taste than it actually was. This I found, as many others did, gave as much enjoyment as possible, though that was very little. Attics were turned out to look for old recipe books, and older people thought back to what their parents and grandparents had made in the past.
People scanned the libraries and exchanged views. Nearly everybody was willing to co-operate in exchanging ideas, because it meant at times the difference between feeling hungry and survival. The local paper was full of information all the time to help people in this way.
Many experimented with some success to find a new use for leaves and weeds that could be found in the hedges. Some occasionally made mistakes in experimenting and suffered in different ways for a few days. Sugar beet was another vegetable that was made good use of. From it we made very thick brown syrup, which I am certain no one would want to taste today. It was a long process to make it, and required five to six pounds of sugar beet to make one pound of syrup.
There were no breakfast foods like cornflakes left after about nine months to one year of occupation, so people tried different ways of improvising. One of the ways was to slice sugar beet, mince it and then dry it, till it really over dried, and using a good imagination as one often had to do, you thought you were eating some kind of breakfast cereal.
As time passed most beaches were out of bounds because there were so many mines around the coast. There were a few trespassers who lost their lives because they disobeyed the rulings and tried to gather something from the beaches that were plainly marked out of bounds.
I always felt this was rather stupid to take this unnecessary risk, however desperate the situation was. When you were allowed to go, there were intensive searches for a gelatinous seaweed which is called ‘Caragheen Moss’. This was found on some of the rocks around the Guernsey coast. With it you could make, with careful preparation, a sort of jelly and junket, using a little of our skimmed milk. It was rather tasteless, but anything different was welcome. We had no raisins or anything similar, but for anyone who was fortunate enough to have grapes in their glasshouses or who were able to buy some when few were available, raisins of some kind could be produced.
The grapes would be dried in the sun on trays and given plenty of air, then by a slow oven process turned into raisins. This was often reckoned by most people to be a sort of luxury, though they nowhere compared with the quality of raisins we are able to buy today.
After one year of occupation there was very little tea left, though it had been strictly rationed. Often people who were wise would say, as they had just a little of the good tea left, ‘Let’s keep that for Sundays’, or some special occasion like somebody’s birthday or wedding anniversary, and used the substitute tea on ordinary days.
We would go around the hedges and pick some of the blackberry and bramble leaves and putting leaves in the teapot we would have blackberry and bramble tea. This was also done with carrots for carrot tea.
Some made dandelion tea, though I had not experience of tasting that particular brand. There was not as much coffee drunk forty years ago as there is today, but it often made a nice change from the Guernseyman’s cup of tea. This too was quickly in short supply and was not available after a few months under the Germans. We improvised by making parsnip coffee. I only tasted this a few times, but tried to avoid it. I know of a few people who tried lupin coffee, but I do not think this was popular. In spite of the difficulty of the situation there was a thrill in making experiments, which meant that occasionally someone would come up with something new.
We began to acquire a quiet determination to survive and that was one of the qualities that kept us going. In the midst of all hardships we found some things to laugh about. Good humour and faith in the future became the criterion for existence. One gentleman used to go around telling people that he had meat for every meal. When they looked puzzled at his statement he would jokingly say, ‘Every time I sit at table for a meal I just lean back’.
One of the questions my wife and I get asked when we go lecturing to different groups is, ‘Being an Island, surely you were able to get plenty of fish, with such a high mileage of coastline compared to the number of square miles in the Island?’ This was not the case. Many people saw very little or none at all during those years. The occupying forces sent armed guards out with the fishermen and they commandeered up to eighty per cent of the catch. This meant that there were many fishermen who found it was not worth while to fish. The idea of sending armed guards with the fishermen must have been because they know that the fishermen could plan escapes to England while fishing. Even then a few people managed to escape to England, and they arrived safely and met their wives and families there. Many of us were highly delighted when we heard later that their brave attempts had not been in vain. A few people were able to gather some spider crabs from the shore, but the number of beaches on which we were allowed, were very small in number.
Hay boxes were a great help with the cooking. With electricity and gas very strictly rationed one would start heating the saucepans of foodstuffs on the cooker and then quickly place them in the hay box. This box was filled tightly with hay and just enough room left for saucepans to fit tightly. Some old tea chests came into use again for this. Sacking and old clothes, rags or old blankets were sometimes used when hay was unobtainable.
Gleaning of wheat was allowed for a time. Farmers in some cases would do what was called a dirty job instead of a thorough clean job, so that when the people would go gleaning they would have much bigger quantities for themselves. The Germans got wind of this after a couple of seasons, so they brought out a ruling forbidding gleaning. It took quite a long time to gather enough for a pound of flour, and when gathered this was put through the kitchen mincer. Time though does not matter when you are striving to get something extra to eat.
What were the effects of the scarcity of food?
It did mean that the development of children was somewhat retarded. It was pleasing to note that they survived the occupation well. When conditions were bad in the last months of 1944 they lost quite a lot of weight, but with the arrival of the Red Cross parcels at the end of December that year, this halted the drop in weight. We had five months of Red Cross parcels and this must have saved children and adults in the nick of time. On the credit side, the adults who benefited because of low rations were those who have been too fat the therefore were forced to keep their weight down. There were some who had lung trouble who were a little better and some who had heart trouble were also much better.
I can remember the great joy in receiving my first Red Cross parcel. I had prepared myself mentally for it so that on receipt of it, I would not allow my eagerness to overcome my powers of resistance. I was determined to make it last a month till the next one arrived.
These Red Cross parcels were brought over by the steamer Vega. That name, Vega will always dwell in the minds of those who were in the Island at that time as the turning point in the food situation.
The Bailiff of Guernsey had sent a very urgent message for essential foods and this had been done through the German and Swiss authorities. On November 5th he was able to send by German wireless to the Red Cross the following:

Secretary General, International Red Cross, Geneva.
Conditions rapidly deteriorating here.
Will soon become impossible.
We appreciate difficulties, but civilian population need urgent supplies of essentials.
We urge immediate visit of Red Cross Representatives. All rations drastically reduced.
Bread finishes December 15th.
Sugar finishes January 6th.
Fat production much below subsistence levels.
Ration of mild reduced to one third of a point per head by the end of the year.
Soap and other cleaners, stocks completely exhausted.
Vegetables generally inadequate to supply civilian population, through the winter.
German consumption heavy.
Salt exhausted.
Clothing and footwear stock almost exhausted.
Fuel, gas and electricity finish end of year.
Coal stocks exhausted.
Wood fuel inadequate.
Many essential medical supplies finished.
(Signed) Victor G. Carey,
Bailiff of Guernsey.

This was a very good report of the situation, and it could even be said that there were one or two understatements. The Vega eventually arrived and after much speculation and lots of rumours as to when she had left, when she was due to arrive and where she had been sighted at various times off the Islands. This was no doubt the most welcome and most life saving vessel that had ever come to the Island.
There were enough parcels for everyone. They contained in addition to food, soap, cigarettes and tobacco, some food luxuries which we had not seen for years. Everyone though had to bear in mind, that this monthly parcel would only augment a little the very meagre stock of food which was available to them.
During the period of three weeks when there was no bread, I remember walking up and down the kitchen feeling extremely hungry and wondering what to do. This was prior to receiving the Red Cross parcel.
A few weeks later looking into the kitchen cupboards, I spotted a tin of meat. I decided after a few minutes and much thought to eat the meat from the tin from my parcel. I could not resist eating the lot with a spoon. This should have been kept back for the next week and eaten gradually. This did satisfy my hunger for a few hours.
Looking back I realise more than ever that to many people in addition to the delight in receiving the food, it was a real tonic, in that they realised Guernsey people were not forgotten.
At this stage the plight of the Germans was extreme as well. You could tell this by the way some of their uniforms were hanging on them. They did not receive any parcels, and because of very strict discipline, they observed a correct attitude and did not attempt to obtain any from the civilians. There were one or two exceptions when Germans stole from civilians, and they must have been severely punished when they were discovered by their superiors.
One burglary took place only a few hundred yards from where I lived. An elderly farmer who lived on his own, was gagged and bound and threatened by masked Germans. They stole every scrap of food in the house including the Red Cross supply.
Another boost to out palates and to our morale was that on one occasion during the last five months of Nazi rule, flour arrived besides our food parcels. This meant five pounds of white bread. Just imagine white bread. What joy. Almost unbelievable. The first we had tasted for nearly five years. We thanked God from the depths of our hearts. What a contrast to those three weeks without bread.
At the difficult period, Dr. Symons had to give a report of the number of calories available. It was 1137. The medical authorities were generally of the opinion that a twelve stone man needed 3500 calories.
Thieving in 1945 took place on a gigantic scale, by prisoners of war, some Germans and the occasional local. Cats and dogs were eaten by soldiers and labourers. My two brothers used to keep two goats for getting extra milk for my mother and themselves and for me while I lived there. But one night they were both stolen. It was very likely that those who stole the goats, whoever they were did not steal them for the milk but with idea of quickly killing them for meat. It was quite possible that it was not done by German troops, it was most likely done by some of the foreign prisoners of war, who were all desperate for food.
One generally expects, even when situations are not too desperate, a certain amount of theft and petty crime from an Army of occupation. But, there was not doubt about it, discipline was very well maintained by the occupation troops, mostly because it was very good propaganda. They wanted to give the right impression to the Islanders, hoping they would always be there and their behaviour would be the same in peace time, but we knew otherwise and we would never dream of submitting to a Nazi dictatorship.

RED CROSS MESSAGES

It is difficult for anyone to realise unless they have had some experience, what it is to be without news from your relatives and friends for many months. We could ‘phone to one another in the Island, but that was limited to speak about what happened in an area of twenty five square miles. We were also very limited in what we could say even about our local experiences and we never knew if our conversation was being listened to by the Germans.
I did feel that there was anxiety on both sides of the Channel and that those people who were in England were even more anxious than us. They were under the British Flag and felt they were as safe as could be during a war. We were under the Nazi flag, which meant they must have worried quite a lot as to how we were being treated.
They know what was happening to many people under the Germans in different parts of Europe. They must have often been unnerved and suspected the worst, except in some cases where the right information got through to them by devious means. Here was a silence which lasted from June 1940 to February or March 1941, or later in some cases.
Imagine their excitement when they first received a Red Cross message from us. We were allowed to put twenty five words, and they could reply by sending twenty five words to us. After the silence it was an undreamed of bonus either side of the Channel. Those who received them in Guernsey were so overjoyed, especially if the news was good, that they not only showed them to their relatives and friends, but stopped people in the streets they hardly knew, to tell them about their news, whether good or bad. There was some who had had bad news, such as friends who had died, and those who were seriously ill, but though they had to face it, some of them had a sense of relief that counteracted their previous frustration. The newspapers were crammed with births, marriages, deaths and information about those who had new jobs, about the exams, that some scholars had passed and about some who had found new homes.
The Germans were very strict about what we were allowed to write, so that no information of the kind they did not want the British to have got through. They were very suspicious about the fact that we would somehow mention the food scarcity or rapidly diminishing waistlines. They were also afraid we might say too much about out houses being occupied by their troops and we were being thrown out. We were not allowed to mention Mother Hubbard because that would signify an empty cupboard. Jack Spratt could not be mentioned as this would indicate food shortage.
I had an auntie who had been evacuated from Guernsey to Tavistock, one of my mother’s sisters, so I thought as we had always been on excellent terms, that would send her my Red Cross message. We were only allowed one a month. Now I wanted to get through the German Censorship of Red Cross messages and let her know that the Germans were in my home and I had been put out. But the problem was, how I could word my message briefly enough, and cleverly enough so that the letter would get through to her and my cousin who was living with her, and at the same time say one or two other things all in my twenty five words. This went through my mind for an hour or so. Then suddenly I stumbled on to something. The name of my house was ‘Roxana’, but I had no relations or friends whose names were either Rex or Anna, so amongst the other words I included in the Red Cross message, ‘Rex and Anna no longer with me’. When my auntie came back after the liberation from England, she told me that she realised what I meant eventually but it took her three days to fathom it out. I had not means of knowing till after the liberation that she had understood my message, though it seemed by the wording of her next message to me that she was right on the trail.
The Red Cross messages that were sent to us from England gave us a lot of information about how the children were being treated. It was great knowing how well they were being cared for. It was also a great morale booster to know how many of their own folk had visited whenever they could, all these children on behalf of their parents. It was through someone’s Red Cross message, I cannot remember to this day, that I got to know of the setting up of the Channel Islands Refugees Committee, and the great work they were doing. But it was the personal news that came from the Red Cross that gave people new hope. It was better to know the facts, even though some were unpleasant, rather than be worried and frustrated all the time, and having to make a guess as to how people were.

LEAFLETS

British planes came over the Islands on a few occasions dropping leaflets. There was a penalty for having propaganda material. This was a fifteen year sentence. Major Sherwill issued a warning, saying that one should hand over leaflets we had acquired to the Germans.
I am not usually prone to disobeying rules by my own people, but I was determined to get leaflets any time I could, because I thought it was definitely the right thing to do. After all, the RAF risked their lives for us to have the news. I must admit that I did not know of the ruling till a few hours after I had picked up some leaflets. Somehow I must have missed reading it in the local paper.
One night I heard planes passing over and a tremendous lot of ack ack fire from the Germans, so I knew the planes were British. Suddenly I heard a couple of small bangs as if something had fallen on a roof next door. After the noise of the planes dwindled, I must have gone to sleep again. I got up fairly early next morning, and after breakfast I walked towards my front gate with the intention of looking around to see if I could discover what had happened in the night. One man cycling along got off his cycle when he was me and said, “Les, the RAF have dropped some leaflets in the night, and there are some two doors away in a pile. I’ve taken two or three with me”. He jumped on his cycle right away. I think he wanted to make certain no one would report him, for they could easily have spotted him taking these leaflets. “Thanks very much for the information”, I said, “I’ll go along and get some!” So I went and fetched my wheelbarrow which was locked in the garage, put a couple of empty sacks in the barrow and set off to walk the hundred yards to look for those leaflets.
Sure enough a sort of half hundredweight circular barrel, similar to the ones for putting potatoes in had crashed in a pathway between the house and garden shed. The house was called Longue Rue. There were still leaflets inside it, while others had fallen in a heap a few yards away. There were also a few that had blown around the yard. I lost no time in putting a pile of them into my barrow, and then put a couple of empty sacks over to cover them enough so that they would not be visible.
I saw neither civilian nor German while I was about this, so I walked back the hundred yards confident that everything would be all right.
As soon as I arrived by the back door of my home, I emptied the barrow, and hid them in a drawer, locking up the barrow in the garage. I noticed that there were fresh wheel marks in my yard from the barrow, so as an added precaution I got out the rake and a broom which I kept in my coal shed behind the garage.
I used the rake to rake the gravel clean as if I was tidying up the garden, and thus erased the wheel marks that would have shown the barrow going out to the road, and the ones coming back to the house.
I then used the broom to brush off the marks of the wheels on the road, only at the section which would have shown the barrow turning out of the gateway and turning into the gateway. I did not think I had been seen collecting the leaflets, and that was probably correct, but half an hour after, a man came walking up my drive. He saw me in my back garden and quietly said, “I’ve just heard that some leaflets have fallen in this area. You would not have a spare one for me by any chance?”
“Yes,” I said, for he was a very reliable person. “I’ll get you one!”
He was very grateful. He looked at it and handled it as if it was a pearl of great price. He assured me he would tell no one where he had had it. I had a feeling though when he left that he know I had some, and I belief he must have had the information from the man who first told me about the leaflets early in the morning. This man worked at the same place, so this seemed quite a possibility. Just before midday I had another caller, and midday two or three more. This continued. I was thrilled with it all, but a bit concerned that somehow some people might notice something unusual with all the callers. With Germans living in the three dwellings around mine, any one of them could have easily been suspicious. There was also the danger of some of the foreign labourers noticing and that could also have been dangerous even though the mast majority of them would be genuine.
To some who came I gave more than one, as they said they would like to give some to relations and friends. This went on till an hour before curfew. The last caller I must have given half a dozen or more, as he had cycled from the Parish of Torteval seven miles away, to ask me for some.
“I could have phoned to inquire first,” he said, “but I made certain not to put you in any danger.” This was good and thoughtful of him, for we had no way of knowing when some German was listening in to our telephone conversation. I always regard ninety nine percent of my own people as genuine and helpful, and this seemed to by embarrassment to hold me in great respect. There was always the terrible risk of the odd one who had a chip on his shoulder against society and because of this would quickly report one to satisfy a warped mind.
I was thankful though, when twenty-four hours had passed. I had also learned that there had been another half hundredweight barrel that had dropped at the same time through the roof of a house called ‘The Emeralds’, the house next to mine. This was the house in which there were twenty Germans. There was an amusing incident about this.
One of the Germans who had been sleeping in one of the bedrooms there, had a slight cut from a piece of wood, caused by the crash of the barrel into the bedroom. He had been hit on the back of the neck, and was looking rather sorry for himself. I would never make the first approach in holding a conversation with a German, but on this occasion this German, who knew English very well, stopped me while I was walking in my front garden. He kept pointing to the house in which he was living and about all he could say was “Leaflets, leaflets,” while placing his hand on his injured neck. I had never heard the German swear, but after those few words, once a minute or so he kept repeating “Leaflets”, and he seemed to excel in a number of adjectives he could use in each sentence.
Some of us around the area heard that the Germans had searched for leaflets along the streets and fields of other areas, but I cannot recall seeing any of them along our road.
I had been so generous in giving out leaflets, that when I checked up one evening, I had only a few left, but the joy of being able to give some to those who came to me lives with me to this day.

SPORT AND LEISURE

One of the problems of an occupation in a small island, where there was virtually no trade, imports or exports, was to know how to occupy your time. There is always a danger of great boredom, which can be extremely demoralising. This would hit the hardest, those of us who were accustomed to running a business, to organising various events, to serving the community in different ways and to those used to planning different projects.
I was one of those who came into that category. Aged twenty seven as the beginning of the Occupation, I had taken part in many sports, football, tennis, badminton and others. In business I had organised the growing of tomatoes, flowers and especially Asparagus Fern. Then too, in a very active Methodist church at Les Capelles, I had already served on a number of committees holding the office of secretary and treasurer in quite a few. I had already been an active Lay Methodist Preacher for seven years, as I had fully qualified in May 1933.
Another of my duties was Superintendent of a large Sunday School, and Youth work would always receive my active co-operation and support. I used thoroughly to enjoy organising outings for young people to the island of Herm and to different parts of the island.
The sporting side of my life had been curtailed a little because of preparations for my marriage in June 1939, which was just before the outbreak of war. Also the building of the house ‘Roxana’ required a lot of my attention. This was the building where most of the experiences which I now write about were to take place. Many week nights were occupied too, where I often had to speak to different audiences on various subjects and experiences. I met people in many walks of life, and this I thoroughly enjoyed. The bombshell of the occupation dropping in on this situation was as if someone had told me, “You are not allowed to use at least ninety per cent of your talents”.
But keeping active all the time and blessed with good health and strength, I was thankful that gradually I was able to adapt them to this new alarming situation. New situations open up new opportunities, so a few of us got down to organising entertainment in our homes.
I joined a group of about twenty five young people. We would travel to different parts of the island by bicycle and have solos, pianoforte solos, duets, recitations and join together in a good sing-song. We were always conscious of the fact that we were separated from many of our faithful friends, and it was always a moving experience when we sang a song like ‘My Ain Folk’ or anything that would suggest someone across the sea.
We used to sing with great gusto and fervour ‘There will always be an England’, and we made new friends because of these contacts. Island wise there were different forms of entertainment and these produced many people who suddenly discovered many of their hidden talents. We had been accustomed in the past in securing from England many first rate musical artistes and we had become used to first rate repertory theatre artistes. Now our leisure time was increased considerably and we were denied these important luxuries. Football began to flourish and on a few occasions, I was delighted to find some time to see a football match, and to see some good football played. I recall two who became outstanding players: Len Duquemin who finally did so much for Tottenham Hotspur, and Bill Whare. One was often amazed as to the energy of the players when rations were so low and most of the players surprised themselves. It was
that determination to do something useful that seemed to inspire many youths. They did not just dream dreams of what would be possible when we were free again, they made the best use of their leisure time to keep as fit as was humanly possible under difficult conditions.
Quite a lot of cricket too was played and there was a time when the Germans had plans to plough up one of the cricket pitches, but fortunately this never materialised. One of the amazing things seen when watching a game of cricket was to see so many kinds of garb worn by the players. Instead of being all in white trousers, some played in dungarees, some in grey, red, brown or navy or any other colour. Nothing was barred.
This must have broken down any class barriers and that was some good that came out of the occupation. Many indoor games like darts, billiards and snooker were revived, though the number of dart boards and billiard tables in use was not sufficient.
A few people skilled in woodwork made their own dart boards. Those who went to German films often said that they were not of a high standard as regards entertainment value.
As I had always been interested in organising concerts and socials for other people, especially youth, I got the urge to do something to help people in that way towards the end of the occupation. I discussed this with a friend of mine, Wilson Robin. He was of the same opinion, and had the same desire and in an hour or so we already had plans as to where we would hold the events, if we got permission from the owners of the premises. We also made a plan of the type of programme we would have.
We decided it must be somewhere central because of transport difficulties and being both Methodists we thought that a nice room would be available in the Castel Parish. We also decided that we would take a collection each time to defray expenses that would occur. The profits would be divided between the Trust Funds of the Church concerned and various charities. So we went the next day to the Superintendent of the Methodist church in the Island, Rev. Sidney Beaugie, who was also concerned with the Church at Castel. After then we went to the secretary of the Trust of that Church, who gladly gave their consent.
The Sunday School room was quite a good one. We wanted one suitable for fifty people or more, for we reckoned that if we had fifty young people attending that would be most rewarding. We wanted to make it a great gel together, with no thought of anything professional about it, but simply a means of youth being able to understand one another better. Also to bring joy to all those who were feeling lonely and sad.
I am glad to say we certainly succeeded, for instead of the thrill of having fifty to out first gathering, we had eighty six. This was followed by four more outings, one per month and these averaged over a hundred. The amusements included various kinds of party games, and quite a few of us performing in concerts on the stage.
A lot of fun was had by all. Unfortunately dancing was not allowed on Church premises according to the Methodist ruling of that time. A little of it was slipped in at times by some of our number irrespective of ruling. Being very sympathetic to it, we as organisers turned a blind eye. It would have been quite in order if we had known that the rules had been relaxed in England during the war years.
It gladdened my heart to see so many enjoying themselves in those trying times. Because some of the games were rather boisterous, there were a few chairs that needed repair, but the Church trust were very helpful and understanding and also glad to receive half the profits of these gatherings.
We kept out expenses down to the very minimum. Both of us who organised these get-togethers received good support from others who gave many things without charge.
We were able to give £26 to charities as we raised £52 during those five afternoons entertainment. This was divided between three different charities, one being the blind, one the handicapped children and the third another good cause of which I cannot now remember the name.
When you consider that the average wage at that time was just over £2 per week in Horticulture and Farming, and nearly everyone that came was connected with these two trades, the response was tremendous. That would mean that even in a wage of £60 a week today the amount collected would be £1560 and the amount given to charities would be £780.
The week night activities which were held on a limited scale in Churches were very well attended. Many who had kept away from Church during peace time were enjoying the fellowship of church activities. Many of them felt the need for worship once again.
I had always been interested in stamp collecting, but had not given much time to it since school days. The Occupation revived it a little for me, but I often wish I had spent more time on it at that time. All Guernsey stamps were produced in the Island at that time.
Some people did this quite thoroughly and it certainly was to their financial advantage when the war was over.
To sum up: sporting and leisure pursuits were the means of keeping a balance in people’s minds and proved a good stewardship of time.

SLAVE WORKERS

For the size of the Island there were a large number of fortifications. Organised Todt provided the labour which consisted of many slave workers, drawn from quite a few nationalities. There were French, Spanish, Belgians, Dutch, Poles, Czechs, Algerians and Moroccans and a few Tunisians. Surprisingly enough, Russians were sent to Guernsey, after being captured on the Eastern front. It was reported to us that while some French youths were in a cinema queue in France, suddenly they were seized and forced to come over to Guernsey for slave labour.
When we saw these men it was often a pitiful sight. Clothes became very tattered and some had what looked like a bundle of rags hanging on them. There were a few who when they arrived looked much neater. One Frenchman told me one day, that some of those had volunteered to join the Todt Organisation because of being tempted by attractive rates of pay. I also discovered one day in conversation with a Spaniard that there were some completely different to these, who were ordinary criminals straight from prisons and prison camps.
Sometimes we would see them working on the roads. Supposing a trench was being dug, and this was done almost entirely by hand, there would be two armed Guards and sometimes more, one at each end of the working party pacing up and down to make sure that no one escaped.
We were not allowed to speak to any foreigners while they were at work, but on one occasion there was a line of about forty workers making a fairly deep trench. One guard was right at one end of the road and the other must have been around the corner of the road. I had noticed amongst these men was a Spaniard who just be looks seemed to me to be a highly cultured person. I could see he was looking for conversation so I said something to him.
I was not mistaken about being a cultured person. He had worked in the Spanish Embassy and he was conversant in seven languages. These were English, French, Spanish, Italian, German and two others. He seemed a most interesting character and I must have spoken to him for about five minutes. I had kept my eye on the guard at the other end of the road, as soon as I saw him start to move in my direction, I quietly moved away. The Spaniard was working with a pickaxe, something he had never done before. During the next few weeks I met him on a few occasions and had most interesting conversations. He had worked in the underground movement in France and was captured by the Nazis while fighting for free France.
These workers had a very hard time, and would often be punished, sometimes severely if they were thought to be slacking, and this was while they were very poorly fed. Every now and again I would sell him a cabbage, even on one occasion a cauliflower when I had one to spare. There were many occasions when I had not to spare and, in fact, not enough. He offered to buy cabbage leaves but this I could not do, this would have gone against my conscience, so I gave him a few leaves. He would take them and with some boiling water, make a kind of soup.
I also got to know a French worker who had also worked with the French underground movement. He had been captured while hiding from the Nazis somewhere in Brittany. He used to give some vivid accounts of how some of his friends had been very badly treated by the Nazis in France. He seemed to me to be a very sincere fellow who had had a moderate education, and had made the best use of it. It was really pitiful at times to see what he had to endure. I only sold him vegetables on one occasion and I would keep back any spare cabbage leaves, so that we could use them in the same way as the Spaniard. He told me that the water he put them in was often only tepid, not boiling. There were times I was not in when he called, but I had agreed to put the leaves under a pot outside the back door. He would call only once a fortnight. When he saw me he would tell me that the amount of soup allowed by the Germans was diminishing, and this was welcome to make a little extra. At the camp where they were living the soup lorry would arrive and most of them would rush the lorry because they were so hungry. This would happen in the middle of the day. To get their ration they had to produce some receptacle. All sorts of tins, like jam tins, cocoa tins, were presented, and it was reported on one occasion that one Frenchman used to drink his soup out of an old bowler hat. I never witnessed this, as I only had the opportunity of being near one of the prisoner camps when soup was being distributed.
This made me very sad, and I could see that some of the workers had hardly enough strength to stand up. One of the camps was situated at Rue Sauvage, St. Sampson’s. They also took over a field nearby which contained the Kingsland Rifle Club. This belonged to my in-laws, Zilma’s parents. Here the Germans administered some of their punishments, when some of the prisoners, especially the French, had, according to their idea, broken their rulings. They used to make them run around the field for quite some time. If they wanted them to go faster, they would lash them with a long whip. I only witnessed this on one occasion when I was cycling down the hill, where this field was situated. But I was told by those who lived around there at that time that they say it happen to quite a few men. It was known that the treatment varied according to the camp. Some camp organisers and leaders were more brutal than others.
There were some who were treated so badly that they tried in desperation to escape from the prison camp. Some succeeded in escaping from the camp, but imagine what hope they had in an island of only twenty five square miles, and the number of troops that were available for searching. In nearly every case they were caught, in fact few remained free for more than a few hours to a day or two. The danger of doing this would mean to them even quicker starvation. When they were caught the punishment must have been very severe indeed.
We only got to know a little of the punishments, but we know that a world of horror was being kept from us. Cruelty and suffering were often part and parcel of the Nazi mind.

TRANSPORT

A visitor to the Island would always notice one peculiarity that he would not see hardly anywhere else in the world. This was a cycle tax for all cyclists in Guernsey and also in Jersey. Every cyclist has to pay an annual tax and this still applies today. In Guernsey this was two shillings and six pence, which today would be twelve and a half pence. This had remained the same since it was instituted at the turn of the century. It is now increased to fifteen new pence. Each Parish was issued with a letter plus a number. A for St. Peter Port, B for St. Sampson’s, C for Vale and so on for the other seven. The number in most cases was placed in a slot under the saddle. A few were bracketed to the centre of the front wheel, or any place thought suitable. Having a letter and number always proved to be very rewarding in case of theft.
The Senior Constable of the Parish, who during his term of office is in charge of the affairs of the Parish, would often have a phone call to say that a bicycle containing a certain number had been stolen. He would straightaway inform the Police, who would be able to keep their eyes open for the missing cycle. Because we were not allowed to use cars during the occupation, cycling became the main means of transport. The other means was by horses and ponies owned b a few local people.
So as to make certain that the Germans would not take away my car, I hid it in an old shed at Les Rouvets where the glasshouses were situated. This shed had been used as a stable for horses in former days.
In those days we kept a couple of goats, and next to this shed was another stable. As we needed a stack of hay for goats and for fowls, also for a time a pony, we had two tons of hay in the loft above.
As soon as we were not allowed to use cars at the beginning of the occupation, I drove my Morris Eight down from my home and into this old shed. This was only a distance of half a mile. Then I decided that if they would to find it I must make it immobile, so I took away the battery, the spare wheel and tools. I toyed with the idea of taking away one or more of the wheels, but if suddenly one day, I could legally use it again, it would have taken me too long to put it in running order again.
Then I packed nearly all the hay over, under and around the car, so that if anyone opened the door they would just see a stack of hay. I succeeded in this till a few months before the end of the occupation.
One Saturday afternoon, I came back from town and wend down to see to a glasshouse, my foreman’s eldest son told me that someone had been for the car and taken it away. I was never certain if anyone had been foolish enough to inform the Germans as to its whereabouts. Unfortunately if you were well known, some jealousy abounded. But this I could not prove and I lost no sleep over it. But a day or two after I received by post a cheque with a letter from the local authorities stating that the car had been commandeered and according to the rules, I was rewarded with the amount they thought it was worth. The cheque was for £80.
This was quite in order, as it was a new car when I bought it in 1936 and at the beginning of the occupation it was reckoned to be worth £80. At the time of purchase the Morris Eight, four seater, four door saloon was £130. I would naturally have much preferred having the car left there, and it would have been worth much more to me after the war.
My parents were less fortunate. They had a larger car. I was a twenty-five horse powered Wolsley. This was taken one day fairly early during the occupation by the Germans. Later on we got to know it was sent to France and was converted to run on some form of gas. They had put at the back of the car a large cumbersome cylinder. Wood was used to make charcoal to generate gas to drive internal combustion engines. Strangely enough it came back to Guernsey again. It was sent back to my mother after the war. It was of no use then and it had had rough treatment. It would have been too costly to convert again. No compensation had been paid for it so this was a total loss.
Guernsey rulings for traffic were the same as in England as regards driving on the left hand side of the road. For about twelve months the Germans allowed this, then they changed the rule of the road to drive on the right, which is what they had always been accustomed to do on the continent. The German troops had been involved in may accidents while the ruling was for driving on the left hand side of the road. My father had bought a pony and trap from a farmer at the beginning of the occupation. This he reckoned would be very useful for travelling around to friends, and for carrying things which were too heavy for the cycle. Being a very efficient business man with great foresight he always planned well ahead for any eventuality. He had an arrangement with a farmer, Mr. Nicholas Collenette, for him to keep it on his farm and he would use it whenever it was needed. It was a lovely friendly pony, and was extremely well looked after by the farmer who throughout the occupation co-operated magnificently. There were just a few occasions when I needed to use the pony and trap after my father died in 1941.
It was quite a novelty for me to be driving one. Although I had helped in my early days at work to look after my father’s two horses, I had never really driven one. I would guide them in and out of the glasshouses. My father had the doors of his glasshouses widened considerably so that we could go in and out of them with a horse and cart. This helped to mechanise things in those days when it was necessary to clear one crop and prepare for another. We had no more horses after 1933.
The Germans had brought over quite a number of horses from France, and some of their lighter transport was dealt with by this means. The heaviest deliveries of cement, steel, and other materials for building fortifications was transported by the railway that they had made from St. Peter Port to the west coast of the Island.
A railway was quite new to the Island. We had till the middle thirties a tramway just from St. Peter Port to St. Sampson’s harbour, a distance of about three miles.
For quite a time we thought that the bicycles that were so essential for many of us to get around would never be interfered with by the German authorities. But one day under Article 53 of the Hague Convention the Military government requisitioned bicycles.
The Island Government protested very strongly at this. They were accused of what was termed intolerable sabotage. When Guernsey failed to supply the quantity that was demanded by the Nebestelle the local authorities were threatened in this way. They went as far as to say that the President of the Controlling Committee would be made responsible. After this the quantity required to satisfy the Feldkammandantur was sent. We had to give way under real threat. One hundred cycles were requisitioned on May 28th, 1941. Although almost every one whose cycle was requisitioned appealed, the Germans turned a deaf ear to most of them including a man of seventy who had to visit his sister aged eighty one.
My cycle was of great use to me in getting around the different parts of the Island. I was always curious to know and see what was going on. As already mentioned, I used to take produce to two or three shops and also to take services at all different Methodist Churches in the Island and occasionally to churches of other denominations.
Though there was nothing much to buy in the shops, I used to cycle to town on Saturdays and come back quite a different way. This gave me a better idea as to what was happening. When going out after dark I used a carbide lamp. It had to be very well shaded to comply with the blackout rulings. It was very difficult to get some carbide, but as every one was exchanging goods and this was quite legal, I was able to exchange a pair of my son’s shoes he had outgrown, for a quantity of carbide. This lasted me for many months. This exchange helped another family who had a baby son. A few months after this I was able to obtain a dynamo for my cycle. This was cleaner and this enabled me to use my carbide lamp in the house for reading when electricity was strictly rationed to a few hours a day. Because of the very large number of cycles used and because they were used so often and also because of the state of the roads, pneumatic tyres were soon unavailable. We had to devise other means of keeping the cycles going. I was perhaps luckier than some by the fact that my front tyre lasted for at least three years, and the rear one nearly four. We have to remember that many of these tyres had already been used many hundreds of miles before the occupation. What then were the alternatives? Quite a few people were riding about with a bit of glasshouse hose, filled very tightly with either sand or hay. As I still had a certain amount of hay, I cut the two sections of hose required and stuffed in very tightly indeed, a thick later of hay. Then in at the other end, a piece of wire secured it to the wheel frame. This meant that as the wheel went around you felt these extra bumps, but we were ever so grateful just to be able to ride out bicycles.
Even with this, I fixed on a trailer to the back of the bicycle. The trailer was capable of taking a hundredweight of produce or anything else, and though I had to walk part of the way to my destination in taking produce to the shop because of the heavy load, it was great to be able to ride all the way home. I only made use of this on seven or eight journeys as it required great energy to pedal a cycle with a load like that, and my legs were getting to feel the strain, because of the food shortage. It was really only by sheer determination that one kept going.
If one used a bicycle after dark, during the years 1944 and 1945 one had to be extremely careful where one parked it as the danger of having it stolen was very great indeed. It was very unfortunate for my mother that, towards the end of the occupation, I borrowed her bicycle to go to some function and though I took great care as to where I parked it, when I came to get it two hours later, it was missing. I spent a lot of time looking for it, but there was nothing much I could do about it, as there were so many stolen, it was almost impossible to trace them, even though they had a cycle tax number. I was very sad about this as it was a lovely little bicycle, which my mother relied on so much.
I had to walk back the two and a half miles and just managed to get home a minute or two before curfew.

THE LAST FOUR MONTHS OF THE OCCUPATION

The dawning of the year 1945 saw us all with very mixed feelings. Although we must have felt at the bottom of our hearts that it would not be many more months before the end of the European section of the war, we wondered how much longer we could survive. I noticed amongst people of all ages a mixture of faith, optimism, fear and doubt. Though we were now certain of victory, how long would it be before the swastika flag over Guernsey was hauled down and replaced by out beloved Union Jack? Those who studied the situation as thoroughly as they could with the limited amount of knowledge available to them, knew for certain that Guernsey could not be liberated before the end of the European conflagration.
One detected especially amongst older people, a great weakening of their powers of resistance. Worst of all it was winter time, and although we were being saved just a little by the arrival of a monthly Red Cross Parcel most of the foodstuffs were still being curtailed. These were really anxious times. On January 12th the combined ration of butter and cooking fat was reduced to two ounces weekly, with half an ounce extra every fifth week. Then with the arrival of the month of February we received information that the combined ration of butter and cooking fat would now be issued fortnightly. Two days after this, parents with children received the shocking news that no butter or fat would be issued for any children under fourteen years of age. The children had always been well treated for milk in the past and they were allowed full cream milk, whereas all adults had to do with skimmed milk. Now their ration was to be reduced by half a pint a day to half a pint. The biggest shock of all came the next day with the announcement that no bread would be available.
This great hardship was to last for three weeks. I would have liked to make use of a camera, to have photos taken at that time, to prove what we already looked like at that critical time. Most suits or dresses were more or less hanging on people. We lived day by day, hoping, praying and searching for what ever was available. The last day of February saw the closing down of all Communal Food Centres, due to extreme shortage of roots and potatoes.
Jurat John Leale made a further appeal in mid-March to the International Red Cross for additional supplies. So in April because of the number of robberies, German guards and patrols had orders to shoot anyone found stealing crops from glasshouses and fields.
During these last few months the Germans were also short of food. Everybody was short of medical supplies. In mid-March fishing was again allowed, but only with the proviso that sixty per cent of all catches had to go to the Germans and forty per cent to the civilians. Coupled with the shortage of food there was also a great shortage of water and power. Water was available only from 8.30am to 10.30am and from 6.00 to 7.00pm.
With no coal arriving from the Continent and very little gas or electricity working became still more difficult. It was a case of gathering whatever twigs you could find. Lighting was reduced to a ridiculous minimum, and you could count yourself lucky and reckon you were living in luxury if you could produce a candle or get some paraffin for a paraffin lamp.
Can any present day nurse realise what it would be like to do a full day’s work on a cup of acorn coffee, about breakfast time and a few hours after, a lunch of turnip stew only?
What about supper? Well, this they had to do without in order that they could have another midday meal the next day. Because electricity supplies ended early in the evening, it was necessary for them to sit in darkness while no one needed attention. When someone needed attention during the night they would light up their lamp or a poor substitute for a lamp, which was often a jam jar of diesel oil. Through a cap a hole was pierced and as there were no more real wicks left a substitute in the form of tape was threaded to act as a wick.
They had a tremendous record for doing things thoroughly in spite of alarming difficulties when concerned with childbirth. When one considers that at this very difficult time there were no anaesthetics for childbirth, it was remarkable how they toiled and laboured with great success.
During the five years, out of over fourteen hundred mothers only one died, and it was said as the time that even under the best of conditions it was doubtful whether this mother could have been saved.
Great problems too were experienced during these last four months, because water was only available for three hours a day. The medical services deserved all the praise one could offer. So during this shocking situation, often people’s only valid thoughts were, “How can I get a little more food?” Even some of the Germans went around knocking on doors and asking if they could have the potato peelings.
It will never be known exactly how many locals died because of these difficult days. I believe there must have been quite a few who died during the year 1945 after Liberation and the reason why they just managed to survive to see Liberation and a little after, was because they somehow developed the will power to live a little longer to see their friends and families after this five year nightmare.
“Have you taken your brick or bricks to bed with you?” This sounds strange, but this was a phrase many of us used, not only during these extra critical months, but for a t least half the occupation.
Because of the terrible shortage of means of heating and the lack of fats we felt the cold badly, and beds were very cold. So many people resorted to an old remedy for keeping the feet warm. We would get a brick or two and put them on the fire. When they were red hot, we would wrap part of an old blanket or something around them and place them at the food of the bed. This retained the heat for quite a time, and we were very grateful indeed for resorting to this old custom. It was nick named by some of us ‘the life saver’. There must have been a few thousand bricks in use during the last winter of occupation.
Two or three days before the Liberation, the Frenchman I had got to know well, came to see if I had any cabbage leaves, so that he could make extra soup. I was able to give him some, and as we spoke a few RAF planes flew overhead. There was no ack ack fire as there had always been on previous occasions when they had passed over.
There were tears in his eyes for two reasons, tears of joy, because he knew we would soon be liberated. “The British! The British!” he shouted. But also tears of sorrow because on that very day one of his French friends had been found dead in the gutter, about a mile away at Les Capelles. He had collapsed from exhaustion, starved to death. I felt sad at this. ‘So near and yet so far’ I remember saying to myself. Only two or three days to go and his friend would have enjoyed the thrill of Liberation.
I had a field at Les Rouvets which I still own today, where the Germans had in one corner dug a hole for a small gun emplacement. One day about two months before the end of the occupation, I went to see what they were doing. They asked me how I thought the war was going. Normally I would have hesitated to answer for two reasons. Firstly if you made a statement they would think you were hearing the British news. Secondly if you said something more or less against Nazism and Hitler, you took a great risk of being reported and punished. Because the British were now advancing rapidly I said straightaway, Hitler kaput meaning Hitler is finished and they seemed to agree. They looked very despondent. I walked away feeling I had certainly expressed my opinion and also I thought it was better not to get involved in any further argument.
Next door to me where the Germans had been living everything was quiet. They had gradually been getting more and more despondent as the weeks went by. They seemed to have had many bottles of cognac delivered to them, and some of them were not very steady on their feet.
I had a friend who came to see me two or three days before the Liberation. While conversing in the garden we noticed in front of the house they occupied a delivery van. Feeling in high spirits because of good news, we decided to go and fetch the delivery van. We attempted to take it away although they were looking at us through the windows of the house. We did not succeed in getting it started so gave it up as a bad job.
They could not care less now, for not one of them lifted a finger to try and stop us. A few minutes after, two Germans from that house saw us by the garden gate and offered us boxes of rifles and other arms and ammunition. They said it was available in that house. Whether this was correct or not we never knew. It would have been of no use to us in any case, and it was no use taking a stupid risk when Liberation was so near. There was a possibility that this might be a trap. It was discovered just after Liberation that there were a few booby traps laid in different bunkers and houses.
But while during these last few months we were rejoicing because of the advances of the Allies, we also had a certain amount of fear and foreboding. First of all there were many rumours going around, that gas chambers were being built, so that some civilians would be put in to reduce the population in order to save food. I refused to believe this, and this fortunately proved to be untrue, but can you imagine how many older people shuddered at the news caused by these rumours? Secondly Huffmeier, who was not head of the German troops in the Channel Islands announced that we would hold out after the war ended. He knew now that Germany was beaten, but being a fanatical Nazi he gave the wildest of orders. He had the idea that he could use the Islands as a sort of bargaining counter, so that when a peace conference would be held, the German representatives would use their bargaining power.
This would no doubt have meant heavy casualties both Guernsey and German, as many Germans wanted to revolt against Huffmeier and there would have been massive starvation.
Realising during these last few weeks that Liberation was near, and that I would be able to communicate with England by letter, I got ready a letter to the Fruit and Commercial Grower. I used to get this magazine weekly and wanted to get going again as soon as possible. When the letter was posted and I got a reply, I was amazed to discover I had been the first to write to them. They were delighted to get this early letter after our five years of isolation. It was a very nice gesture from them to send me a few free copies. As I used to send asparagus fern all over the British Isles to a great many salesmen, I wrote letters to each one of them a few weeks before. This saved a lot of time when Liberation came, it meant I just had to put a stamp on each letter. It was better to act with foresight as we realised that the excitement of being free and the numerous things to do to get things in order again would entail a lot of effort. I also wrote a few personal letters in advance and left room for a postscript to be added when the great day came.

LIBERATION

May 8th 1945 was a day of great excitement and anticipation. We were told by all local authorities to fly our flags. It was amazing how many Union Jacks were brought out, as well as all kinds of other flags and bunting. Though it had been forbidden to have Union Jacks, we had managed to conceal many. I remember getting out all the flags I had and draping them around the balcony of my home, the home where many Germans had lived. I was absolutely overjoyed to see this home flying the Union Jack, as well as other flags and bunting. I had carefully hidden them in my attic, and often looked at them when they could be used for such a joyful occasion.
Almost everyone must have heard the great speech by the Prime Minister, Winston Churchill which included those magic words “Out dear Channel Islands are free.” Unfortunately there was a hitch for us, because of Huffmeier’s stubbornness and stupidity and we were not Liberated until 7.45am on Wednesday May 9th.
I cycled towards the harbour as far as one was allowed to go. We had been told when the Liberation force was likely to land. I saw the small force marching towards us. But even then after five years I seemed to be almost in a dream. Is it really true? It must be. It is. These were my thoughts. There seemed to be an awful silence as they marched towards those of us who were at the other end near the Weighbridge clock. It may be we were so stunned. Could it be true after all the suffering and frustration we had endured? Then as they came nearly level with us the cheering was tremendous and in the cheering I noticed some who had tears of joy. How great too to see a few Guernsey faces amongst the liberators.
I did not see one German around on that day. Germany was beaten, no more Nazis around and they were certainly staying indoors and hiding. Supposing they had wanted to show resistance they could have dealt with this small Liberating force, but not a finger was lifted. Those who have lived under the Nazi yoke know what it is to lose independence.
It was like awaking from a nightmare of want and fear and walking into a generous warmth of liberty.
So much now remained to be done, but week by week would show improvements. Here was the breath of fresh air we needed. Letters and parcels arriving soon in huge quantities gradually brought us up to date with news we had missed so much.
There was the mixture of sorrow and joy for many people, joy to know for certain that friends and relations were still alive and well, sorrow when some discovered that friends had died, and they had not previously heard. But in the midst of all this we now had a great sense of purpose. We began to realise more forcibly how much those in England had had great anxiety for us.
We would now have the pleasure of seeing German troops leave the Island. Others would be left to clear up some of the mess they had made. We would also see thousands of prisoners of war leave. We were so sorry for these prisoners of war and the way they had been treated. Some of those who survived looked like living skeletons. It would probably never be known how many were shot or how many had starved to death, or how many were whipped to death by some sadistic Nazi. I think we must be fair though in crediting the Germans with a few things, one of them being that they did not attempt to blow up any of the port facilities of the islands. Another good factor was that they gave the right information required by surrender terms about minefields.

The weekly Press that came out in addition to the daily Press was soon full of greetings. In the issue of May 18th came the news that the BBC hoped shortly to arrange a broadcast of messages from Channel Islanders in the United Kingdom to friends and relatives in Guernsey. In this issue too, appeared many names of Guernsey men and women mentioned in despatches and those who had won awards while serving in different countries and in England.
On May 10th Victor Carey, Bailiff of Guernsey received a message from the Right Hon. Winston Churchill, the Prime Minister, which reads as follows - ‘You should have heard the House of Commons cheer at the news of your Liberation. Every good wish’.
The Bailiff despatched the following: “We are all deeply touched by, and grateful for your telegram conveying the enthusiasm of the House of Commons at out deliverance. For five years we have been thrilled by your inspiring leadership and we all hope you will visit us at a later date.”
When we looked out to sea two or three days later, it was to see with sheer delight minesweepers of the Royal Navy, engaged in clearing the seas around the Island. Intermittent explosions were proof of what was happening.
May 11th edition of the Guernsey Evening Press contained some happy news about gas and electricity. Gas would be available in four or five weeks time, and while no fixed date could be fixed for electricity, work was going ahead to restore the supply as soon as possible.
On May 12th Elizabeth College, where I was educated, a flag hoisting ceremony had been arranged for the afternoon. Facing the steps of the College, a Military Guard of Honour and Band arrived at 1.45pm.
Headed by the Bailiff some local civil officials were present. After greeting the civil authorities, Force Commander Brigadier A.E. Snow OBE, read a Proclamation to the assembly. This was followed by the reading of a personal message for His Majesty the King. The Union Jack was then broken on a flag staff. The Royal Salute was given and this was accompanied by the playing of the National Anthem. The public were admitted to certain parts of the College grounds.
The Sunday following Liberation saw some wonderful Thanksgiving Services in all the Churches. I should imagine the Hymn ‘Now Thank We all Our God’ was the most appropriate. During the month of June, Guernsey welcomed her King and Queen. This was an occasion that will always live in the memories of the Guernsey Folk.
King George VI and Queen Elizabeth smiled their way into the hearts of all who watched them. The King in reply to the Bailiff’s Loyal Address said how the Queen and he had felt deeply for their people in Guernsey and Sark throughout their long years under the occupation of the enemy.
It also gave them great joy to see the Channel Islands, the oldest possession of the Crown restored once again to freedom.
The visit which had to be postponed for twenty-four hours proved to be a blessing as we had a sunny day, whereas it had rained quite a lot the previous day.
Everyone seemed to be out that day, and many were rewarded for their long wait. Some had taken up their positions for over twenty-four hours. Ten thousand Germans had been cleared from the Island within two weeks of Liberation and one thousand were left to clear up the mess they had made.

CONCLUSION

My wife and I have been living in England in the county of Susses for over six years. We had planned to come to live in England sixteen years ago. I had said that when I reached the age of sixty, which I did in 1972 I would retire, and I certainly retired the day I arrived in England.
I had always regarded retirement as an opportunity to do some of the things you were unable to do previously because of your trading and business commitments or the demands of your job or profession. It is also a grand opportunity to continue to serve the Community and the Church as I have done while earning my living.
To live in, we chose a most friendly and progressive town of Rustington which has a population of over eleven thousand. Here on the south coast, in this particular area, situated between the rivers Arun and Adur, with the Sussex Downs as a good shelter, the weather is very good indeed and compares very favourably with that of the Channel Islands. We have thus achieved our ambition.
I am able to trace my ancestors back to 1580. They were Huguenots. Straightaway we both became involved in the things we like and thoroughly enjoy doing. These duties are Church and Social and Community Service, in my own case Parish work as Councillor and its ancillary demands. Some duties connected with the Church are at local level, others district, and one at national level. My wife also serves the Church at local, district and national level, and also works with the WRVS.
But amongst the services we have given to the community, there was one thing rather different. Because of our experiences during the German occupation, we have spoken at all sorts of meetings throughout Sussex and other counties as well. Up to the time of writing we have already spoken to over forty-five of these.
I have also broadcast on Radio Brighton during the year 1977 answering questions for about twenty minutes.
We are asked a great number of questions, not only at meetings but also in homes and when we are walking in the town and country. It is difficult to say which question we are asked the most. Many have asked about how we managed as regards food, but every aspect of the occupation has possibly been covered over the last six years in answering questions.
There were many anxious days during these difficult years. We realised as we saw all the fortifications being built in the island, mostly by slave labour, that Hitler had a plan to make all the Channel Islands a new Gibraltar. We know he wanted to make the Channel Islands German. Most of us had faith as we thought of the situation. We relied on the common sense of the British for we realised it would be the height of folly for them to try and get the islands back by force.
We were amazed to see the gigantic quantities of steel and concrete, which had been brought over from German occupied France. It seemed completely out of all proportion for out dear little Island of twenty five square miles.
We were happy to recognise that while Hitler was doing this, he was lavishly using up valuable labour and materials which could have been put to use in defence of mainland Europe.
There was no precedent for the occupation. Because of this and many other reasons the Island administration did a remarkable job. Throughout this they showed great courage. We have to remember they were all capable men, who had in many cases given many years of voluntary, untiring service to the Island community. Now they had to deal all of a sudden with a completely new situation.
They had to deal with a great military, probably the greatest military power the modern world has ever known.
This fine body of men, who consisted of some of the most prominent in the Island were on one occasion during the early days of the occupation called to show the utmost courage, determination and tenacity.
This was an incident which few people knew about at the time. The Germans threatened that unless they were satisfied that no one was harbouring members of the British Army, twenty leading citizens of the Island would be shot. But such was the calibre of these members of the Controlling Committee, they kept true to their flag and the shooting was not carried out. They had spent many hours which were unpleasant, but courage and coolness and tenacity won in the end, thus an atrocity for which the Germans (Nazis) would have been completely guilty was avoided.
There will always be critics in any situation. The very few who tried to criticise the Controlling Committee now and again did so because either they were not aware of all the factors or were of the type who always criticise authorities in peace or war, because they have a chip on their shoulder.
Often the German authorities demanded things, which it would have been impossible to comply with. They once asked for five hundred tons of potatoes in 1942. Our brave officials made very strong protests which at first did not seem to make any difference. But after they had taken two hundred tons, they made no further requests. I salute all these brave unselfish men, who served in the most difficult situations the island has ever had to face.
It is very fitting that many of these men were honoured by the King in recognition of their services during the enemy occupation of the Island. Victor Goselin Carey, Bailiff of Guernsey received a knighthood, as also did Rev. Jurat John Leale, Jurat of the Royal Court and President of the Controlling Committee. Ambrose Shirwell who was HM Procurer and succeeded Sir Victor Carey as Bailiff in 1946 also received a knighthood later after having first received the CBE. OBE’s were awarded to the following:

R H Johns, a member of the Controlling Committee.

H E Marquand, who was the States Supervisor and Treasurer.

Dr A N Symons, who was the Health Officer.

The award of MBE went to L A Guillemette who was Secretary to the President of the Controlling Committee.

G Heggs, Assistant States Engineer also received an MBE.

J H Loveridge, Secretary of the Essential Commodities Committee and is now the Bailiff of Guernsey, was also awarded the MBE.

The British Empire Medal was awarded to a labourer, H T Bichard, and also to A P Lamy, the Inspector of the Guernsey Police.

A few ladies were also in the Honours List. An MBE to Miss E Hall, Matron of the Guernsey Emergency Hospital and Miss E G Young, a member of the Queen’s Institute of District Nursing.

A British Empire Medal was awarded to the cook of the St. Peter Port communal kitchen, Mrs E E Langmead. All these thoroughly deserved their awards. Others since have had some of these awards and in doing so, mention is made of their great service during occupation years.
I cannot speak too highly of the excellent work done by Raymond O Falla. One of his main responsibilities was obtaining food from France for us. His knowledge of French and also Guernsey Patois, his bold approach and his pleasant and joyful manner were great assets in carrying out these difficult duties.
I would have thought that in addition to these that an award should have been given to one like Frank Falla for his great and daring work in the Guernsey Underground News Service, known as GUNS, also Charles Machon, but this was not to be. Nevertheless, their stories and others will go down in the annals of history as doing their duty to their fellow Islanders. I have always taken the view that those who did their best to get to know the facts, so that the morale of our people would not break down, were setting the right example.
As other writers have said before me, at least ninety eight per cent of the people did their duty, and this under some of the most difficult situations anyone could wish for.
When you consider what is happening in the world today, with many countries at peace, yet we find embezzlement on a large scale, intrigues, scandals, frauds and petty thefts of all descriptions, this gives all the more credit to out Guernsey fold for the noble way they behaved under great stress and strain. It is sad though that the very small minority were informers. These informed about people who had hidden wireless sets as well as other things. One wonders how people can stoop so low. They were not all Guernseymen, but when they were, it was sometimes the type of person who has a grudge against society or who is very jealous of people, who have been successful in various walks of life. The average Guernseyman is British to the core, he refuses to be influenced by his unwelcome guests.
Much water has now flowed under the bridges of memory but many people show continual interest in knowing what really happened.
At the moment of writing we are being presented on television every Saturday for thirteen weeks, with the film ‘Enemy at the Door’. This is fiction based on fact but this is proving to be a very good way of getting people to understand the situation better.
Visitors to the lovely friendly Island of Guernsey today will still be reminded of what happened in those dark days. They can visit the Guernsey Occupation Museum, which has a remarkable collection of information and relics. They can also visit the German Underground Hospital built by the German Todt and slave labour.
They can still see as they tour the island some of the strong defences built by the Germans and alterations made by them to some of the historic Martello Towers. These towers were built in Napoleonic days when it was thought the French might land in Guernsey. When visitors meet people in their homes or at social functions, they will hear many interesting stories of what happened. The number still alive to tell these stories is diminishing rapidly because Liberation was thirty-four years ago.
I have never calculated how many there would still be alive, but it is possible that the total twenty-three thousand who stayed would not be reduced to ten thousand, and out of those a few hundred who were too young to remember much about it. This is why I feel that it is vitally important for a few of us to recount our experiences.

There are many more happenings I could have written about. Some of these I witnessed, but others I would not have enough valid information, except by interviewing many of the people concerned.
I used to think of my beloved Island of Guernsey, as one which would be completely free from invasion. I believe many thought the same or felt that nothing would be likely to happen this century. But we discovered we were not immune to the loss of freedom that warfare could entail. Those five years taught us the value of freedom. It is sad that you only realise the true value of something when you have been forced to miss it for some time. When you have been forced to miss it for nearly five years, that is a very valid test.
One thing I discovered that when you are at the end of your tether, you are at the beginning of God’s tether.
The sunshine of Liberation defeated the shadows of Occupation.

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