The Queen's Third Birthday

Strange to most it may well seem
but Grandma Martin is the British Queen!

Her two personas - never in the same photograph,
she keeps the Press guessing, she's having a laugh.

Her husband and four children with the ample ears
have kept her secret now for over 50 years.

The preserving effects of Champagne and Lager are clear
as with vigour she enters her 81st year.

So God save the Queen or should I say Ma'am
keep up the pretence, it can do no harm.

By Phil Martin for Betty Martin's 81st birthday.

August 2009

Wartime in Portsmouth (1939-45)

The early 1940’s were an unusual and sometimes exciting times for any boy to be growing up and that is certainly as I remember it. I was twelve when Mr Chamberlain, the Prime Minister, announced on the Radio that we were at War with Germany which although not a complete surprise was obviously a big worry for my Parents. Living as we did on the outskirts of Portsmouth, an obvious target being an important Naval Port, we anticipated Air Raids could begin at any time, so Dad had An Air Raid Shelter dug at the end of our Garden large enough for the four of us and Mrs Leech, a sweet old Scottish Widow who lived next door on her own. It was in fact the 11th of July 1940, before the first Air Raid on Portsmouth and I happened to be on Portsdown Hill with a Pal from school that afternoon giving us a panoramic view of the skies over the City. The sound of anti-aircraft Gunfire attracted our attention and we could see about twelve German Bombers in loose formation approaching. It was a lovely afternoon and I clearly remember being able to follow the path of one bomb from the time it left the Aircraft until it exploded in the water close to the Royal Yacht, the ‘Victoria and Albert’. One of the Gasometers and a Laundry at North End received direct hits causing a number of Casualities This July raid however proved to be no more than a mild indicator of what was to come. The first heavy raid on the the City of Portsmouth and its Dockyard occurred on the 24th Ausust 1940. Many bombs were dropped in the Dock and surrounding area, one High Explosive bomb finding the access to an underground Navalstorage area which ran under local houses. The extent of damage was such that I can only think that it was being used to store shells for use by Warships. The Princes Theatre in Lake Road received a direct hit during the afternoon Matinee performance and there were a number of deaths and many injuries. When at Purbrook High School I would occasionally walk home over Portsdown Hill and down to Cosham. One of my friends lived at ‘The Brow’, a road close to the highest part of the Hill at Purbrook. In the late Summer of 1940 he invited me into his home and we had gone into the garden. Hearing a low flying Aircraft we looked up to see a German Bomber flying in our direction barely being able to clear the top of the Hill while being attacked by one of our Hurricane Fighters The Bomber was sufficiently low for us to see the Crew inside the aircraft which minutes later crash landed about three miles North of the Hill breaking into two after hitting an Oak tree. One crew member died while the others were taken into custody by the Local Defence Volunteers who were likely to have been armed with nothing more than Pitchforks. (Much like the Dad’s Army Television programme) A day or two later Dad took us over to Cowplain to see the aftermath of the crash and I was able to come away with a fragment of the shattered windscreen to add to my collection. Not long ago I was fortunate enough to obtain a copy of the local Police report telling me that the event occurred at 5.15PM on the 26th August 1940. The early months of 1941 saw the heaviest Raids of the War on Portsmouth and the light from the fires would turn the sky an angry red. I would expect to investigate any reported event within cycling distance but I was not allowed to venture into the City proper, and anyway many roads were impassable for various reasons. The story I am about to relate occurred in the April of 1941. There were times when for some reason a German Bomber had been unable to drop its bombs in the target area and so rather than return home with the heavy load any illuminated area or one with substantial buildings could well be selected. Portsdown Hill runs EastWest about five miles North of Portsmouth Dockyard beyond which is mostly rural. Little Sheepwash Farm, Sheepwash Lane Purbrook is approached down a narrow and winding Lane, typical of many Farms in Hampshire. Small by todays standards and family run. In the evening of the 7th April 1941, George Winderbank and Jack Triggs, his Farm Hand, were in the Farmyard attending to the last jobs of the day. I am sure they would have been aware that poor old Portsmouth was in for a rough night but there was no reason to think that they would be disturbed beyond the noise of anti-aircraft gunfire With little if any warning the Farm buildings and adjacent fields were being showered with Incendiary bombs starting fires anywhere there was something to burn. They did their best with the farmyard hose however seeing the blazing straw and Barn the bomber returned and dropped High Explosive bombs one landing in the Farmyard killing Jack Triggs and although lucky to be alive, the only lasting injury to George Winderbank was the loss of part of a hand. The reader may be wondering why this incident was of particular interest to me. Sheepwash Lane is in an area which was well known to me when Nature Hunting and hearing that there had been damage to the Farm there I and a Pal from school thought it might be worth a walk over the Hill to investigate. On arrival damage to the Farm buildings was obvious but hearing that a large number of incendiaries had been dropped we decided to take a stroll in adjoining fields to see what evidence we could find. Not far from the Farm runs a stream either side of which there was a wide area of soft mud. Barely had we walked ten yards along the Stream before I spotted a clean round hole about three or four inches in diameter and there was great excitement when closer examination confirmed that there an object eight or nine inches below the surface. As there was no way we could make an excavation, arrangements were made for us to meet again and return a few days later with digging implements. Full of anticipation we did return and I recall having with me a hand trowel and my school satchel in case of finds. We soon located the hole and it was not minutes before we had removed sufficient soil to confirm that we were looking at what I had hoped for, the undamaged tail fin of an incendiary bomb. While I continued the dig my friend went off to look for more and it soon became clear that we were in the centre of an area which had received a shower of bombs. At the end of a long day I returned home tired and muddy but with the wonderful prize of thirteen undamaged incendiaries and my friend probably had about the same number. If I expected my parents to share my sense of achievement I could not have been more wrong for the bombs were immediately confiscated and put in a water butt in the garden by Dad. He then contacted a friend he knew who was in the Home Guard to ask what should be done and within days my treasures were taken away for safe disposal. I quite thought that would be the end of the episode but this was not to be. Dad’s Home Guard friend, a Mr Sutton who knew me slightly as I had been on cycle rides with his Daughter. He had been told of the circumstances and obviously realised that I would have been disappointed to lose the fruits of my hard days work. Some months later I happened to meet him and he told me that the explosive material had been removed from the bombs and I could collect one if I called at his home. That bomb from 1941 remained with me until two years ago when I met a Second World War historian who was delighted when I offered it to him. Quite honestly after more than 50 years I was happy to have found a good home for it. Not long ago a friend who knew that I lived close to Portsmouth through the War sent me photographs taken by German reconnaissance Aircraft taken about 1943 as well as information concerning the type, model number of Aircraft sent to attack Portsmouth in each major raid of the War, not only that, these records found in Germany after the War, show the number and type of bombs carried. On the night of 17th/18th Aprl 1941, 259 Bombers were dispatched to attack Portsmouth and my 13 incendiaries which I dug up and took home were part of 46,280 dropped in the raid that night. I have not mentioned the Air Raid Siren the sound of which became very much a part of daily life during the winter months of 1940/1941. This is not intended to imply that Portsmouth was a target every day or night but being on the coast German Bombers would frequently fly over on their way to another target inland. Numerous Anti-aircraft guns aided by Search lights did what they could to intercept the Bombers and showers of shrapnel from their shells rained down shattering roof tiles and slates over a wide area. Even during a raid on the Portsmouth area Dad rarely spent more than a few minutes at any one time with us in the Shelter at home as he would expect to attend any incident which occurred in our designated part of Cosham. About 200 yards further along Mulberry Lane a house received a direct hit and Dad was one of the team of Wardens who extracted the family from a custom made shelter under the Garage From time to time an event would raise particular interest and rumours of a secret German weapon would circulate. One such happening imvoled an unusually large crater which appeared one morning in a field at Crookhorn on the North slopes of Portsdown Hill . Being such an isolated rural Farming area news only reached me about a week later. The fact that nothing had not been reported in the local Newpaper only added to the mystery. The usual pilgrimage with my Pal was soon arranged and on arrival at Crookhorn we were greeted by the sight of a crater 60 feet in diameter and at least 40 feet deep. We had become quite used to seeing the work of 1000 pounders but this was certainly very different. One can imagine the effect of the displacement of this quantity of chalk and the fields over a considerable area around the site were carpeted white. At this stage of the War V1 Flying bombs, better known as Doodlebugs were occasional visitors to Portsmouth and there had been talk of the next possible German invention being a Rocket with a large Warhead. These Rockets became known a the V2 and I have often wondered whether the Crookhorn crater could have been the result of one of the first of these Rockets to cross the Channel. By the end of May 1944 it was clear to us all that the much talked about Allied invasion of Europe was imminent. Country Roads were lined with parked Military Vehicles either covered by trees or by camouflage sheets and there was a noticeable increase in the number of American Troops around. ‘D day ‘ as it became known was the night of the 5/6th June 1944 and over the ensuing days and weeks we would spend much time listening to the Radio reports. My particular memory must be seeing 20 or more troop carrying Gliders being towed by larger Aircraft. There was a general feeling of relief as everyone believed that this really was the beginning of the end. In the event it was early May the following year before fighting in Europe finally ceased and a further two months before the surrender of Japan. My Brother Gordon was still serving with the R.A.F. at Akyab in Burmah and it was to be November 1946 before he embarked on the converted cruise liner Monarch of Burmuda for the journey home by which time I had been called up for Service with the R.A.F.

David Martin, February 2022.