Author Archives: Jill Cowley

Eileen Smith: WWII in ATS 1940s

August  29th 1941 I enlisted in the A.T.S.at Portsmouth.  I didn’t want to wait to be called up, I wanted to have some say in what I did. No, I didn’t ask my parents’ permission! They wouldn’t have stopped me.
I was away for 4 years, as Predictor on Ack Ack Anti Aircraft guns, and ended my Army Service on September 17th 1945.

Eileen Smith in ATS uniform

Eileen Smith in ATS uniform

I really enjoyed my time in the ATS, made some good friends, saw good times and bad – but not so many bad times as Ralph.  I hope none of the children has to go to war.
Eileen Smith

Eileen’s service took her to Chester, London’s Dockland, Hyde Park, Hastings and coastal defences against ‘Doodlebugs’, Belgium with British Liberation Army, dealing with V2 rockets and eventually to Taunton to be demobbed.

Eileen Smith: WWII 1939, 1940 ARP

I was in the A.R.P. and so if I was on duty in the evenings, I went to the Town Hall, which was sandbagged all round, and passed on phone messages to Newport Headquarters.
I remember coming down the High Street in the dark one evening with my dad. The police came out of the Police Station with guns drawn and shouted, ‘Halt! Who goes there!’
My dad shouted back, ‘Dont be such a silly b … Percy! You know who we are!’

ARP log,Yarmouth Police flag

ARP log,Yarmouth Police flag

One day when I was working in s, a Bren Gun carrier was being driven round from Bridge Road to go up the High Street. They misjudged the angle and took the window opposite in Hardwoods clean out!

When I was out driving Mills delivery van along Thorley Road one day, there was a row of incendiary bombs that had been dropped to try to set fire to the harvest.
I had to drive up Hamstead Road with deliveries in the dark, with just a slit of headlight, trying to miss all the ruts. Because it was wartime, we were supposed to remove the rotor arm each time we stopped, so no enemy agents or paratroopers could steal the van. I think I did it once….
There was an ammunition dump between Pigeon Coo and Hamstead that I had to drive past when I was delivering. They always made me stop and show my identity papers although they knew who I was. I think they were bored because they didn’t see many people.

Ralph Smith: WWII

When war broke out I was working in Mills Grocers shop and driving their delivery van.  Ralph Smith, who worked there too, was a pork butcher. He and I were near enough courting (and married 1945).  He joined the Isle of Wight Territorials, ( Princess Beatrice’s Own) at Freshwater on March 4th, 1939 and was mobilised at the end of July and stationed  first of all at the Needles Battery, on Coastal Guns.

Ralph manned a Lewis gun during the Battle of Britain, served  in Algeria, Medjes el Bab, Tunisia with the Ist Army, in Italy, Monte Casino, Tel Aviv, Palestine, Greece, back to Italy before VE Day. After VE Day, he was sent to Klagenfurt, Austria, Germany and Belgium. He was demobbed on March 1st 1946.

Ralph Smith on leave in Egypt

Ralph Smith on rest camp near Cairo after 6 months at the line in Tunisia: Photo Eileen Smith

Joan Cokes: WWII, Fishing 1940s

War time was dismal with the blackouts, but people all helped each other out; there was a great feeling of friendliness.

There were lots of limitations to everyday life. You needed a special permit to go to the mainland.
My dad had a permit for fishing in a boat called ‘Snipe’. His licence was limited to the area from the pier to the Common and for a certain number of yards out.  Access to the pier was banned. You could go over to Sandhard, but weren’t allowed outside the breakwater.

I worked as a Red Cross nurse and was called up and served at Albany and Netley.

I was married to Thomas Cokes from Camp Road in Freshwater in 1941.  He was a sailor first of all on Q merchant ships, when he was shipwrecked in the bay of Biscay, then he was in the Royal Navy, including being on Malta during the siege.

Joan Cokes nee Cooper b1918

Aerial view Yarmouth

Aerial view Yarmouth 1940s

 

 

Phil Kelsey: WWII outbreak 1939

The day war broke out I was up the river sailing in my boat. It didn’t sink in that it would be anything like it turned out to be.  That was 1939, I had to register in March 1940 then I was called up in June 1940.
My brother George and Newt, both were reserved occupationists because they were builders you see. George went into the Navy much later, because he was Reserved.  Newt was building a lot of these air raid shelters and George was working for Bucketts – most of his time was spent working up the Needles Battery.  They did a lot of work up there.    Phil Kelsey b 1920

Builders  1930s

Builders 1930s Photo Di Broomfield

 

Effie Pitman: WWII work 1939, 1940s

Of course when war broke out Mr. Gobini had to go because he was Italian.
I was with the A.R.P. in the evenings in the Town Hall, taking telephone messages with Eileen Smith. We had to phone in to Newport when there was an air raid.
It was so dark at night with no lights, I hated it.
Then in the morning the bus came for us at a quarter to 7 so we didn’t always get much sleep.
I was sent to Cowes to work in the shipyard, riveting. It was horrible!  My face used to be black when I got home. Some of the other girls weren’t very nice, their language….
Once I was put with a man who was on piece work. We had to work so fast! Another time a man came to see us to ask us to rivet a flag pole. We said ‘We cant do it!’ but we did, over 700 rivets , and you had to be so careful otherwise it bent.
My aunt had some evacuees to stay with her.  Poor little mites. They must have been so unhappy away from home. Effie Pitman b 1920

Evacuee numbers at Yarmouth School

‘Unofficial’  and ‘Official’ Evacuee numbers at Yarmouth School

Joy Lawry: WWII 1939

WWII

In 1938, for Yarmouth, like other communities, life changed; we were preparing for war. Everyone was fitted with gas masks and volunteers were called for A.R.P. duties (Air Raid Precautions) and for the L.D.V. (Local Defence Volunteers), later known as the Home Guard.  Conscription for the forces began with what were known as the “Militia Boys” and they all did us proud.  Yarmouth at that time was a very close community, families and their forbears having lived here for a very long time.  Our young men found it hard being taken from working as butchers, bakers etc. to, after a short training, becoming a fighting force.

Town Hall sandbagged 1939

Town Hall sandbagged 1939 photo: Eileen Smith

The A.R.P. had their headquarters at the well- sandbagged Town Hall to begin with, but moved later to the Royal Solent Yacht Club where frequent blood-doning sessions were held.  The A.R.P. consisted of telephonists, wardens, First Aid and ambulance drivers.  The ambulance was a laundry van, from the laundry in Heytesbury Road which was the main employer of women in Yarmouth, with some male drivers. Rescue practices were held at the Mill.
Some men and women went to work in Aircraft factories at Freshwater and Cowes.  Several girls joined the forces, and women took over from the men by driving delivery vans.

 from an article by Joy  Lawry nee Cotton b 1922

Patrick Hall: Yarmouth carriers, buses, coaches

The first over land conveyance from Yarmouth was the carrier’s van which fetched and carried all manner of goods and people to and from Newport and the local area.  In  the 1830s and 40s this was run by John Legg from the town, two or three times a week carrying passengers and goods to and from Newport .  Carriers from Freshwater also passed through because the roads to Newport weren’t brilliant but the road from Yarmouth to Newport was less hilly than the others.  Some of the carriers were involved in moving smuggled goods.

Chambers from Freshwater was running a dedicated passenger omnibus through Yarmouth to Newport by the 1860s – it was obviously horse drawn in those days. The Barnes family from Pound Green had been carriers for generations but when Edward Barnes reached old age there was nobody to take over, so he sold his business to a neighbour George Moyce, who continued to run to Newport via Totland and Yarmouth three times a week.
When the time came for Moyce to retire, my grandfather Herbert Hall took over the business in 1904, and I guess he would have been about 32 years old then, and to start with he ran it from his home in the Avenue which had stables and fields nearby.  About 1920 he moved to larger premises, Mount Lodge in Queen’s Road, which had formerly been William Urry’s stables.

Herbert Hall, carrier

Herbert Hall, carrier

I should point out at this stage there was another carrier named Hall operating from Yarmouth from the 1870s onwards, and this was James Hall, no relative of ours, and he was the goods agent for the London and South Western Railway at the quay.  He had previously been a cartage agent for the railway on the other side of the water.  Later, his son W R Hall, took over his business.  The railway ran the ferries from Lymington to Yarmouth Pier in those days and wagons and carriages were towed across to the quay in barges, (that’s horse drawn carriages not railways carriages).
My grandfather, Herbert Hall, built up his business at Freshwater to include household removals and this side of the business became more important once motor vans were introduced in the 1920s .  He loved horses and was reluctant to give them up and he continued to use them on the carrier run until on into the ‘20s.
His eldest son Hilton, was an ambitious young man and he could see there was a future in motor buses.

But first, let’s go back a few years and talk about the first bus services in the island.  These started in 1905 and were run by the Isle of Wight Express Motor Syndicate Ltd which had shareholders ranging from local gentry and businessmen to city stockbrokers.  They were based in Ryde and although they had good intentions to serve the West Wight, it proved impracticable, and only a few trips were run through Yarmouth, more in the nature of excursions.  The company was hindered by poor management and went into voluntary liquidation after three seasons.  After that, there were no more motor buses in West Wight until 1920.
Alfred Cooper was a Royal Mail contractor and ran his business from High Street in Freshwater.  He was an industrious man and eventually he took over contracts to meet the Railways’ boats at Yarmouth Pier and also at Freshwater Station.  He ran from Yarmouth to Totland and Alum Bays, with another service connecting Freshwater Station with Freshwater Bay, for Railway Company passengers holding through tickets.  All this was done with horse drawn conveyances until 1920.

That was the year that Frederick Pink and his brother Arthur arrived in Totland from the Hampshire/Surrey borders with their 14 seater  Ford motor bus which they brought with them I think, and  decided to set up in competition, running over the same routes as Cooper but without the benefit of the through booked ferry passengers.  This forced Alfred Cooper to wake up and within a short time motor vehicles were required to meet the unexpected competition.  I think he already had one or two motor taxis but he didn’t have anything big enough to run the bus service with.

Buses in Yarmouth Square

Buses in Pier Square ready to collect passengers from ferry: Photo Patrick Hall

After World War II, the two businesses combined to become the West Wight Motor Bus Company Ltd and they continued to operate their bus routes until 1952 when these were taken over by Southern Vectis.
In the early 1920s a company called Yarmouth Isle of Wight Touring Company, with premises in the High Street, started running tours from Yarmouth in connection with a privately owned steamer from Lymington, but this didn’t last long.  However, Elliot Brothers from Bournemouth, who owned the once famous Royal Blue coaches, built a garage in Mill Road, Yarmouth in 1922 to house their charabancs and coaches used on their Isle of Wight tours from Bournemouth.   Mill Road Garage, until recently occupied the site.

Royal Blue charabanc

Royal Blue charabanc 1920s

However, in the early 1920s, there was still no direct motor bus link from Yarmouth to Newport, although I believe Coopers used to run on a Saturday evening to Newport for shoppers, taking advantage of the late shopping hours and low prices on Saturday nights, as the butchers and grocers sold off their perishable stock cheaply before the weekend.
The Vectis Bus Company had started a route to Yarmouth and Freshwater in 1923 but this was given up early in 1925 so they could concentrate on fending off competition on their more profitable services.  That summer, 1925, Captain Joseph Brown of Carisbrooke, and his son Cecil who had recently completed any engineering apprenticeship, stepped in with services to Freshwater via Yarmouth, most via Shalfleet, and also some through Calbourne, Newbridge, and Wellow and a few journeys through Wilingham.
The following year, 1926, my uncle Hilton Hall, aged then about 22, started in competition with Brown’s on the route through Shalfleet under the name West Wight Bus Service.

West Wight Bus

West Wight Bus

He favoured the American design Dodge chassis which was fast for its time, and Brown’s little Morris 14-seaters were no match for them.  However, Hilton had received backing from a third party and this proved to be his undoing when things started to go wrong.
Brown’s introduced some fast buses themselves, and much chasing for passengers took place, a common but dangerous practice something  which both local and central government became increasingly concerned about.  In 1931 Uncle Hilton became bankrupt and his four buses and the little tin garage in Prince’s Road.  

Cooper family: Upper Lee, 1950s, 1960s

Upper Lee
Stella, Lois and Rosemary, reminisce about their grandfather ‘Grampy’  and Grandmother, Henry and Fanny Cooper, and Auntie May,  and  about life at Upper Lee.

Ro: Leonard (Grampy’s father) was very keen on horses – his father had been a blacksmith and farrier. However, Grampy reputedly hated the things and became mechanised on the farm as soon as possible.  He was ahead of his time in so many ways.

Ro: Grampy said that he had one son named biblically (Paul), one named historically (Clive) and a daughter named geographically (Vecta).

Thorley School 1932

Thorley School 1932 Vecta Cooper back row far right

Stella: Auntie May used to keep poultry, and she was very fond of guinea fowl as well as hens, and they made lots of racket.
Ro: singing, ‘come back’ – they lived in the orchard, and roosted in the trees – kept clear of foxes.

Stella: Grandma was always extremely mild and never known once to lose her temper.  She and Auntie May used to sit in the dining room of a morning and Grampy would bring in all the fruit and veg from the garden, and they’d sit and chat and peel and prep all the veg on newspaper. Everything would be done there and then, straight from the garden ready for lunch, every morning except Sunday.  He always had stuff to bring in – still gardening in his 80s!

Upper Lee end of the day

Upper Lee end of the day Photo copyright Cooper family

Stella: tea was just the most incredible meal – eggs, honey in the comb, cucumbers, lettuce, tomato, radishes, fresh white bread – bloomer loaf, and my father being snobbish about my grandfather cutting a doorstep of bread!  Fresh butter, cream, strawberries, raspberries, always a lot of fruit. There was always home-made jam and a bowl of honey in the comb on the table.
Ro: children used to come up from the village for Sunday school, and a lot of them used to stay for tea.

Stella: there was an ancient Victorian cooking range in the dining room – often with the smells of roasts and cakes coming out of it, always a warm spot in winter. The irons sat under it.

Ro: the kitchen was known as the brewhouse, I think.  You could look straight up the chimney and see the sky, and the fire would sizzle when it rained.
I remember the whiteness of it – whole room was whitewashed.

Stella: there were marble surfaces which were brilliant for pastry.  And in the dairy next door there were eggs preserved in isinglass, and big earthenware pots full of salted runner beans for the winter.  Washday was a heavy day for all, with a huge mangle in there. There was a butter churn – big barrelled one that sat at an angle, and the chicken feed was stored there too. Ro and I both used to get into trouble for picking out the grains of maize to give to our favourite hens.

Ro: I remember jams being kept in cupboard under the stairs.  The cupboard opened from the middle room.

Stella: the stairs were like a spiral, and so decayed that you had to be very careful where you stepped; there were bits of something (asbestos?!) over the holes.

Stella: Grandma and Grampy’s double bed was a genuine feather bed – horse-hair mattress underneath, feather bed on top. All the bedding had to be taken off every day and the bed shaken out, and the sheets checked for little black dots – bed bugs.

Stella: I always thought that everyone had a photographic dark room.  Ours was within the centre-front bedroom – beds on the right, bath in front of you, dark room to the left. Uncle Paul (who was the pharmacist in Avenue Road, Freshwater) used it for the pharmacy pictures post-war; it wasn’t until years later that we learnt that Grandma had worked as a photographer’s assistant at the turn of the century.

Ro: The bedroom walls were covered with coloured scraps and pictures cut from magazines (decoupage) – girls with big hats, Dutch skaters, kittens.
Stella: Lying in bed studying the pictures was a very relaxing start to the day. There were very few houses in Thorley with a bath, so they were very proud of it.  The bath emptied into the kitchen sink.

Ro and Stella:  There was no flushing loo at Upper Lee, just an Elsan in the woodshed that Grampy emptied in a pit he dug in the fields.  We think he also spread some of the contents on the garden, as Ro’s mum said that was why the vegetables flourished.  There was an eye-level knot hole through which you could watch the cows in the field as you sat inside.  It had a stable door, so that you could leave the top door open.  Hens were always clucking around, their nest-boxes (old orange boxes) lined one wall.  Rain used to drip through the holes in the corrugated roof onto the sawdust below.  Every time you went to Upper Lee the holes in the roof were bigger and the corrugated iron lacier.

Ro: on one occasion Auntie May’s bed came through the ceiling – one leg came through the ceiling of the ‘wrong’ room. They’d assumed rooms were properly above each other, but they weren’t, so it didn’t come through where they expected.

Stella: there was the ‘new’ wing (1860s) – which was cold, the stairs were very steep, but it was nice looking out of the gothic window across the fields.  The family bible was on a box at the foot of the bed, on top of the trunk.

Christmas at Upper Lee

Christmas at Upper Lee : copyright Cooper family        23 family members for Christmas at Upper lee with Aunt Enid’s cake in the shape of the house.

Ro: at Christmas the sitting room was freezing cold, the fire would be lit after lunch, and it would warm up as everyone opened their presents.  There was a photo of the Carl shipwreck in Freshwater Bay dominating one wall, and black lacquer trays hung on others, and the grandfather clock, with fox furs hung over the backs of the seats.

Stella: there was a harmonium in the corner from when it was used for Sunday schools, but also the stereoscope (Lois has it) with slides of Israel – all bible lands.  There was the Ship’s cabinet (now with Stella) which had the hymn books in – reputedly hewn from a wreck – could see because it was narrower one side that the other, higher one end than the other, and saw-marks, but with beautiful bevelled glass doors. Grampy loved doing woodwork and amongst his treasures was secret box that you can’t get into – it was like two large books with little books in between, and it was a puzzle box.

Lois: As children, after the morning service, we’d go to Grandad and he’d always give us a peppermint from the tin.

Ro: – little tiny white ones.  He always had little black sweets too, called ‘black bobs’, which he said we wouldn’t like (they were liquorice-flavoured).  He’d put one in his mouth at bed-time, and he maintained that he could tell the time when we woke up in the night by how small the sweet was.  We were horrified, as we thought he shouldn’t have sweets in bed, but it probably didn’t matter as he had no teeth!

Stella: They had a spaniel called Hoppy.  Hoppy was a pub dog, and had a barrel rolled over his foot when he was a puppy – named Hoppy for the limp and for the pub!

Ro: when we were children we had a little home-made toy dog, which had a collar embroidered with the name ‘Hoppy’.

Stella: after that was a fox terrier called Judy. One evening I went walking down through Gooseacre with mum and Judy, who caught a rabbit, and my mum took it, killed it in front of me, threaded its legs together and slung it over her shoulder. Not a nice thing to do in front of a six-year-old, I was appalled!

RO: I wasn’t very keen on Judy – kind of jumpy and energetic.  Hoppy was lovely – didn’t do anything except sit by the fire.

Stella: My Mum got fined 5 shillings once coming home from work down Wilmingham in the dark (from Freshwater post Office) because her bicycle’s back light was out – a week’s wages for her!  Auntie May cycled, and Grampy cycled, but Grandma didn’t.
Ro: Years before, Auntie May used to tow her mother in a carriage (like a basket chair on wheels) attached to the back of the bike. She and Grampy were always great cyclists.

Ro: The grocer, (Mr Higginbotham?), would come in from Yarmouth, come across the fields and sit in the kitchen with Grandma to sort out the grocery order for the week, go back to Yarmouth, and then bring groceries back again. This was some task as the only way to reach the house was over two stiles from the road, across a field, over a railway-sleeper bridge over the brook, up another field and into the garden. There was no vehicular access at all.

Stella: when my Mum was about four she saw a policeman coming over the fields (you had some minutes advance warning) and she got under the table (the same one we’re sitting around now) and cut her hair in the hope that the policeman wouldn’t recognise her. I never did find out what it was a four-year-old could have done that made her feel that guilty.

Across the field to Upper Lee

Across the field to Upper Lee

Stella: Grandma and Auntie May would sit sewing of an evening and made exquisite underwear out of parachute silk, with hand-sewn scalloped edges.  You could see diagonal lines where the original stitching had been unpicked.  Grampy caught moles, cured skins and they made moleskin mittens. Grampy was ever so proud of the fact that he could knit, and he knitted his own socks, although I never saw him knitting.
Stella: there was always needlework, darning  and embroidery, including making brooches out of tiny embroidered flowers. Auntie May did tatting occasionally, which I don’t remember Grandma doing. If not sewing or darning, we would sit round the table of an evening playing Lexicon or Pit.

Stella: I recall sitting quietly on a huge birch bracket fungus in the vegetable garden while Grampy was working, and if I was good he’d turn over part of the compost heap and show me a slowworm.

Ro: I remember we had to be very cautious in the garden and not go near the bee hives.
Stella: that didn’t worry me.  I was just worried about the round bed where the well had been in case it opened and swallowed us up.  Auntie May had her own cottage garden at the end of the house with asparagus fern, geraniums and carnations.

Stella: Grandad used to take National Geographic magazine, and he used to bind them into yearly hard bound books.  He had lots of book binding equipment – wooden press, guillotines.   The books were lovely with tooled leather spines.

Ro: On one occasion when he went to the tax office, he went without filling in his forms and he told them that he’d never been to school, so they felt sorry for him and read it all out to him and filled it in for him!  Of course, it was true that he’d never been to school, but he was perfectly able to fill in his own tax form.
Stella: Grampy was proud of being well-educated without ever having been to school. They kept up with the news  – Grampy had made one of the very first ‘cats whisker’ crystal radio sets and they were regular listeners to the BBC as early as 1924.

Ro: Auntie May had just a short time at primary school, and, being a girl, wouldn’t have had a chance to educate herself. Being from a family of eight children must have been quite hard for all of them.
Ro: Auntie May, Grandma, Grampy: the three of them would do their bible reading together every evening, and Auntie May had trouble with long words and unfamiliar names, and so would say ‘hard word’ when she got to one and then pass straight on.

Ro: Grampy became a ‘bee expert’ – did lectures and tours on the mainland.  He did meticulous research into Isle of Wight bee disease.
Stella: he was sad all his life because he’d done everything he could to alert bee keepers on the mainland to the dangers of it, and he was mocked by them and told that it was because of their ignorance and dirty bee keeping habits, but it was much more dangerous than they ever thought. It spread through the whole country eventually, as he had warned.

Honey time: Henry Cooper

Honey time: Henry Cooper: photo copyright Cooper family

Stella: Grandma used to walk with me across the fields to the railway line and watch the train go past, and pick mushrooms.  Grampy used to tell apocryphal tales about the railway – one of his pigs appeared one day with a straight cut across one ear – he reckoned the pig had put its ear to the rail to hear if the train was coming, and got it chopped off!  And a fox escaped the hunt across the railway line, and they didn’t catch it; Grampy reckoned he found it a few days later with its sides split – he maintained that it had split its sides laughing!

Ro: Grampy used to tell a lot of funny jokes, but my mum and my brothers and sisters and I couldn’t understand them because he tended to mumble.  He became rather deaf as he aged and that was hard for him. He was desperately shy, and didn’t like social occasions, perhaps because his hearing wasn’t up to it.

Stella: During WWII: an incendiary bounced off the thatch and bounced down into a bowl of pears.
Ro: not sure whether it was same occasion, but they could see the waves of incendiaries being dropped across the fields.  Grampy wanted to get a ladder from the barn to the house (a two-man job) so that he could sweep them off the thatch if they fell on the house. After that Auntie May always used to run out the door every time she heard an aeroplane and look up to the sky.

He and Grandma were tee-total, and they belonged to the Independent Order of the Rechabites, a temperance friendly society, very much the thing for insurance those days. They were born pre-welfare state and were too old to qualify for a state retirement pension, they were given nothing by the state and had to ensure they had made all their own provision for old age. The honey and vegetables he sold right up until his last days were necessary income.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sue Langford: Thorley holidays 1950s, 1960s

Thorley and Upper Lee
Thorley from above

Thorley from across the fields

Every holiday, the family would be sent to Granny Haigh’s at Bundys, until she got fed up with so many of us and my father bought Upper Lee. I have Granny’s notebooks, full of details of butterflies and insects, some of them you don’t see here now.  She made a point of teaching us about them – we’d only listen for so long – but I can still identify any that come our way.

We could run around the fields, between here and Retreat ( now ‘Molehills’), with no one supervising us. There was one rule – you did have to wear your Wellingtons in the fields because of the adders. I’d see maybe two or so a year. I remember once, on my way to look for orchids, coming across an adder curled up in a spiral, rearing up with its head pulled back. I ran!

Going through the fields to Retreat was always a bit of a nightmare because of the young stock. The grownups always used to say, just keep going and if they run towards you, just make yourself as big as you can, and shout at them. They’ll go away. I wasn’t confident about that!

We spent a lot of time in Thorley Brook, paddling about, making up games.
Sue Langford nee Haigh b 1946