Listened to the 9 p.m. news on radio - the ATHENIA had been torpedoed and sunk with heavy loss of life - men, women and children. Now the meaning of war hit me and excitement left me. Days went by and the term 'phoney war' expressed the situation. British troops were in France but no action had taken place. Sirens were often sounded but mostly false alarms. Christmas came but festivities were very limited. Eventually the real war started. May 1940 - the German army swept through to the Channel ports. Miraculously, more than 300,000 troops were evacuated from Dunkirk. All equipment, arms etc were left behind, mostly destroyed. Great Britain now faced invasion - the phoney war was over. Factories went into full-time, and there was now a greater sense of urgency and determination. We had to face the fact that there was every possibility on invasion. I was now in the LDV (later to be famous as 'Dad's Army') and on patrol at nights if the sirens sounded. One night, or rather at 2 a.m. in the morning, whilst listening to 2 old soldiers telling of their experiences of WW1 (World War 1) and making my hair stand on end, a messenger arrived on a bicycle. "Report to Headquarters immediately - paratroopers have been sighted dropping nearby". Fear not, I was heavily armed with a cudgel!!?! What a farce! It transpired that a balloon had been broken from its moorings and passed through a searchlight

On now to Wednesday, July 3rd 1940. A plane had been droning around for some time and it was evident from the sound of the engines that it was a German - no sirens had been sounded. Left the office at 5 p.m. to cycle home and approaching the barrage balloon site the plane dived out of the clouds machine gunning the balloon. I could clearly see the Swastika markings. Terrified, I jumped off my bike and dived into the hedge. The plane flew towards the bridges over the Tyne and I saw a huge flash and clouds of smoke and dust. My first experience of seeing a bomb dropped. Many more were to follow in the next 12 months. When I got home my father handed me a buff envelope marked 'O.H.M.S. and I did not need to open it to know that it was my 'calling up papers' - "Report to Dingle Vale Schools".

Liverpool, Thursday July 11th. Mixed feelings. What would it be like leaving home? I knew the misery of homesickness from school camps and Boy Scout Camps. I had a good home life, good pals and a great interest in piano and organ playing. All this would be lost. The next few days were grim, the waiting and uncertainty were worst. Wednesday July 10th 10 p.m. dreading the farewells at the Central Station, Newcastle. Only in later years did I realise what it must have been like for my parents to see me disappearing over the bridge to Platform 9 then returning home and worse still, a few days later when the case containing my clothes arrived.

The journey to Liverpool seemed to be never ending as I had never been further than Saltburn! Duly arrived at Lime Street Station 8 a.m. Apart from Joe Thomson (Swalwell) I had palled up with Jack Stenhouse (Benwell). The three of us found a cafe, thick chipped tea mugs and bacon sandwiches! "How do we get to Dingle Vale School?" we asked the Chinese owner. "Tlam Clar (Chinese accent) with notice Aigburth on flont". For about two miles we rumbled and clattered our way, and there was the school. Documented and issued with clothing etc. then escorted to a classroom. "Sorry lads" said the Sgt. "No palliasses yet, you will get used to sleeping on the floor!." Night came but sleep did not. There were 30 of us and it was talk, talk and more talk, and lots of fun until the Orderly Officer came and ordered "SILENCE!" After three days we dispersed to various houses in the area (there were 300 soldiers in the Company). Beautiful stone built houses, the owners evidently well off, had moved to safer areas and the army took possession.

Joe, Jack and I were in a room on the third floor, (comfort now because we had palliasses). Every morning we were marched to the school which was about a mile away for breakfast followed by the inevitable Square Bashing. I was happy and enjoying a completely new life. Exercise, discipline and comradeship, and a feeling of pride. Walking out in the evening in your best battledress (even if it was not a perfect fit) shoulders back and saluting officers, great. One morning on parade the Officer in charge said that personnel were required to form headquarters staff to control the intake of 300 recruits every Thursday. Cooks, admin, quartermaster etc. were needed and if anyone was interested to step forward otherwise instead of volunteering you would be ordered. I was pushed forward by Joe, and the Officer assumed I was volunteering. "Report to QM Captain Gosling at 2 pm." So at 2 pm I was giving an account of what I had done in Civvy Street, and I ended up in the QM Stores Office. This was start of the worst period of my six years service. Good fellows to work with, Taffy, Smithy, Ray and Stan but the work was so futile and useless. We had ledgers to control the input of clothing etc and issues of same. If the stock remaining did not tally they were simply written off!

As the weeks went by air raids became almost nightly and heavier. Sitting in the Trocadero Cinema one Saturday evening (September 15th) and listening to the Wurlitzer Organist who, later was called up, joined our unit, and eventually played the organ for our wedding, when suddenly he stopped and a notice was flashed on the screen ALL SERVICE MEN REPORT TO THEIR UNITS IMMEDIATELY. No trouble getting lifts to the school where chaos reigned. Report to the armoury was the order. Issued with rifle and five rounds and marched in groups of ten to the banks of the Mersey. Word passed that invasion was imminent and two German battleships were at the mouth of the Mersey! We lay there all night and I'm sure everybody thought the same as me, what will a rifle and five bullets do to a battleship?! At 2 pm on Sunday we were stood down. Rumours were flying around and many weeks later it was disclosed that invasion barges had been sighted in the Channel but it was not clear whether it was an exercise or the real thing. I remember once standing on the landing stage waiting for the Ferry to New Brighton when suddenly there was the sound of a bomb dropping. The piercing whistle got louder and I felt it was going to land on my back. Instead all I got was a soaking. The bomb dropped in the water near the landing stage. That bomb evidently did not have my name on it.

May 5th 1940 was the start of a week of continuous bombing every night from 7 pm till 4 am for 6 nights. I was now billeted in 99 Colebrook Road with Taffy, Smithy, Ray and Stan which was an extra storeroom for Army clothing and blankets etc. This street was only 100 yards from a huge oil storage depot - 30 tanks in all. On May 7th two tanks received direct hits and night was turned into day. There was a direct hit on No. 104 but fortunately most of the inhabitants had cleared off to Sefton Park as they felt safer there. The noise of bombs and anti-aircraft fire was deafening. The sky over the city was red. I went into Liverpool on the Saturday - fires still burning on the dock side and ships sunk by the docks. Lewis's Store completely burned out, Bryant & May's factory burning and scores of people outside the Town Hall scanning the notices of names of the dead and unidentified. There was an air of sadness and despair.

The powers-that be decided that Liverpool was not a safe place and it took them 12 months to realise that, so we were moved to Pheasey Farm Estate, Great Barr, about five miles from Birmingham. This was a huge council house estate which had just been completed at the beginning of the war but commandeered by the Army. Leaving Liverpool was a wrench despite the bombing. It is a wonderful city and I have memories which will never fade. Some happy ones, some sad. I think of the little boy who used to play with us in the evenings. We did not see him for a while but when we did on crutches - he had lost a foot. I think of the brave firemen who night after night tackled the huge fires. I think of the times I walked up the hill to the Anglican Cathedral and sat there and prayed not only for myself but for all affected by bombing. Air raids are so terrifying as you can't see your enemy, you know he is up there but you are helpless.

JULY 1941 saw us settled into our new camp and this was to alter my career and also my life. I felt that I must get out of the boring job so I requested an interview with the QM who was also in charge of Transport. I took the bull by the horns as it were and asked for a transfer to the Transport staff. As luck would have it, there was a vacancy and so I became a driver. I was so happy driving cars and lorries of all sizes. One afternoon I was detailed to go to Great Barr station to pick up an ATS Corporal and thirty other ranks. On arrival at the station there they were, all very smart. Something about the corporal attracted me immediately - standing there so smart and lovely, not only physically, but something else which was hard to describe. Whatever it was I had no doubt whatsoever that some day, if she would have me, I wanted her to be my wife. Love at first sight - call it what you will. As we talked on the way back to camp I found that she was from Birmingham (but no Birmingham accent) and was to work in the QM stores. What a stroke of luck - it meant I would see her almost every day! I was so afraid to ask her for a date so asked my pal, Taffy, to do that. "Surely he can ask me himself" was the answer. So I plucked up courage and the reply was "Yes, I would like that". Remember she was a corporal and I was a driver so officially we were not allowed to hold hands but I think we broke the rules a few times! Clifton Cinema, Perry Bar, was our first date and beginning of a wonderful courtship. After a few months she(Jessie) was posted to Lichfield on an NCO's course. I missed her so much. Eric, one of the drivers (who eventually married one of the ATS and we kept in contact long after the war ended) came to the rescue. There was an old motor cycle without a pillion seat in the garage and Eric said he would take me to Lichfield one evening. I put my greatcoat on the back mudguard and away we went. I often think how did we have the nerve to do it - goodness knows what would have happened if we had been stopped by the Redcaps! Jessie was delighted and it wasn't long before she returned to camp - this time a Sergeant.

Our next move was to Oldham where we got engaged, and then three months at Heysham, near Morecambe After that it was on to Prestatyn which was formerly Pontins Holiday Camp. We planned to get married but Army regulations stated that a married couple could not be on the same camp.. If we had gone ahead we would have been separated, so we agreed that it was better to be together and hope that some day the stupid regulation would be cancelled. Out of the blue it was when a few months later the Commandant of the ATS paid a visit to the camp. Questions were invited from the NCO's so up got Sergeant Hobson and asked was it not better for a married couple to be together in time of war than separated. The Commandant claimed that she was not aware of this rule (likely story) but would look into it. A few weeks later the regulation was cancelled so we were able to go ahead with our plans. The date was set - Saturday, June 17th 1944 at Trinity Church, Prestatyn. A glorious sunny day and understandably, a nervous one. The start of another chapter in my life.