Open Writing

Many of the people reading this will be able to remember quite clearly what they were doing on September 3rd 1939. Like many families we gathered round the wireless to hear the Prime Minister's statement. This began "I am speaking to you from No. 10 Downing Street" and ended "As a result Britain is now at war with Germany."

At the time I was already sixteen years old and was suffering from a boil on the back of my neck. Normally I would have been in church but my mother had decided I needed a bread poultice on the boil (This was the method used for treating boils at that time). As soon as the announcement ended my mother sat on a chair crying.

"Will he have to go?" she asked my father (meaning me). My father had been badly wounded in 1916 during the First World War and she had had this in mind. "No," said my father, "it will be over by Christmas.''

After having my boil dressed, I went off to find my friends. I was, at this time, a member of Deane Scouts and we were busy renovating our Scout Room. On the way I met two of my friends who were members of the church choir. They told me that the sexton had given the news to the vicar. The vicar had said a prayer and closed the service.

All three of us went on to the Scout Room to break the news to the others. As we were all of the same age it was obvious we would all be called up should the war last any length of time. As it turned out there were nine of us in the Scout Room that day. We all served in the war and we all survived.

At this time it was our custom to meet after dinner and go for a walk round the golf course or round Lostock. When I was ready to go out, my father asked me where my gas mask was.

"I'm not taking that." I said.

He gave me the option."Take your gas mask or stay in.”
The gas mask it was. There was I, complete with little cardboard box hanging round my neck on a loop of string.

Talk about feeling soft. It was impossible to hide it. However, when I got to the meeting place the other lads all had their gas masks as well. We decided to go through the Clough to Queens Park. Going along the Middlebrook we met a set of youngsters who followed us shouting "Look at this lot with their gas masks". I remember being quite embarrassed by this.

It was our practice, at this time, to attend Evening Service but, obviously, with the blackout restrictions in force this was not now possible. Instead, as there was still some light remaining after tea, we met again in the Scout Room. It was decided that the only practical way to black out this room would be to make plywood screens.

We came out into the first real blackout although, I recall, there had been some restrictions in place even earlier. Just a few chinks of light could be seen. I went home to undress for bed in the dark as we hadn't got full blackout at home. I still had the bread poultice on my neck!

So ended the first day of war. Nothing exciting in one sense but very momentous really. Little did any of know, at this time, what events we would live through.