War TIme Incident

This story has been written onto the BBC People’s War website by CSV Storygatherer Carole on behalf of Beryl Carter. The story has been added to the site with her permission. Beryl Carter fully understands the terms and conditions of the site.

September 1939

I was starting my nursing training at the Royal Hospital in Richmond Surrey.
Everyone had been aware that War was imminent, and had been given instructions on how to act if there was an air-raid warning.
Well, here it was, the very first night of the war. I was on day duty and therefore tucked up in bed in a room above the hospital, I shared with a Nurse Kemp. We were trainees, and of course very anxious to do the right thing. The warning came just before midnight, I jumped out of bed and as instructed we put on our uniform — perky little hat, blue/white dress and white apron, the same as one can see now on the series “The Royal” on TV.
The ward I was on was called Mary Adelaide. We even took GAS MASKS!
Sister in charge was already there, and when I enquired what I should do, she pointed to an old lady, probably about the age I am now, she told me to see if there was anything I could do. Going over to her bedside, I asked if she was nervous, and could I hold her hand. “Certainly not!” she replied. “I have had my life, and your career is just starting, get under the bed!”
I am now in my 86th year, but I shall never forget that incident, if I shut my eyes I can visualise the scene, all the blackouts had been hurriedly put up, and we wandered about with small torches.
We heard planes overhead, flying out to meet the Luftwaffe, going down towards Kent.
As Birkenhead and Liverpool were being severely bombed, I was transferred to Chester, where the wounded were being sent.
At Upton just outside Chester, there was an enormous hospital for
mental patients. We nurses slept in Portakabins, very large caravans put up in the grounds. We always had to carry our keys, and getting to our sleeping quarters was quite a worrying effort.
But here I was able to meet up with my parents — my father was a Squadron Leader at Hawarden Airport.
My father’s career in the forces was interesting. In the 1914-18 war, at the age of 18, he joined the Army and was sent out to the trenches. After the great battle of the Somme, when many of his troop were killed, he decided to change to the Royal Flying Corps, now the RAF.
He is in the history books as a flying ace, as on one of his sorties he shot down 7 German planes in one morning, then crashed near Arras. With a nasty head wound he was sent home, no more war for him.
Before the 1939 war he joined the volunteer reserve and as an observer he flew over France, landing near Arras where he was shot down. It’s all very strange, he had a nervous breakdown and was sent home, no more flying, so he came home to Hawarden where he acted as Squadron Leader and Adjutant.
My first marriage was in Chester. The padre who was a friend of my father’s married us. My husband by then was in the RAF as a compass adjuster — he was very technically minded and was sent all over the country to repair planes. We met up when we could; I carried on nursing, then left as I was expecting our first baby, and lived with my grandmother in Ascot.
I have still quite a few memories of those times. Strangely, I can often remember those times better than what I did yesterday!

PS. My first husband, to whom I was married for 46 years and died of cancer, in his TV career he became head of films and was asked to start up re-diffusion.
I came to live in Sidmouth in 1987, met my present husband, who must have his own story to tell — he was in Submarines!
For a shot time I was engaged to an Army officer — how is that for being acquainted with the 3 services!

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