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I was but 10 years old on the 1st September 1939 when my father left home to go to war. He left 2 days before war was declared due to the fact that he was a Territorial serving with 209 Field Company, Royal Engineers based in Steyning, West Sussex prior to the war.His army number was 2036901, how strange it is to recall this number although nowhere have I ever had it written down. Much the same can be said for my own army number when I did my National Service after the war ended.
So at this tender age I became the "man" of the house to my mother and 2 younger sisters. There was much to do for the man of the house, we did not have main drainage and it was my job to empty the closet frequently. We had a large council house garden and with food shortages, with my mothers help the garden was cultivated and vegetables were grown thoughout the war years.
Quite early in the war our village became hosts to evacuees from Mitcham, South London. We had 2 boys living with us for some considerable time. Having these evacuees in the village meant that there was no way our school could cope with the influx of numbers and accordingly we had half days in the school, alternate mornings or afternoon each week and the other part of the school day was spent in what had been the pre war tearoom of the Castle Hotel, Bramber. Although some school work was done at the alternative venue we had other tasks as well. Being at the "front" should a German invasion have taken place defence by any means was needed, as school children we were taught how to wire bind bottles to make Molotov Cocktails. We were never allowed to fill them with the combustabiles or test fire them, but as lads we knew where they were store, in barrels buried in the bank south of The Rising Sun.
Our home overlooked the junction of the road to Steyning with the Henfield road therefore a supply of sandbags was deposited in the small bedroom by the military authorities to allow defenders to fire on the junction. I remember now feeling at that young age, well if they come, we are going to get a shell through the window.
We lived under the "Battle of Britain", the risks we took to watch the dog fights with no thoughts for our safety. We would stand and just stare at the goings on. I wonder now where the thousands of bullets and indeed cartridge cases fell, not one of us got hurt, and I can't recall ever seeing this debris anywhere. One of the lasting memories of this time was the patterns of con trails accross the sky.
When the night bombing of London and other cities began we were in the jettison area. If Jerry had taken a hit, or was being chased he would let go of his bomb load anywhere near us. As lads we used to go "walk about" on the South Downs whenever there was a new crater to be seen and collect shrapnel from the scene. We would also make a bee line for crashed aircraft in the hope that we could get scraps of metal from the wreck before the military arrived. This was never a success but from time to time we would find pieces away from the main wreck, and sometimes a guard would give us a piece.
To complete my memories of the air war above Sussex I have tragic memories late in the war when FW 190s would arrive on hit and run missions. There was a school hit at Petworth with the loss of many children, and another incident when a row of cottages in Church Street, Steyning was hit killing one old lady.
This does bring back my memory now on 2 other events of the time. When the bombs were being jettisioned around us I remember one evening when my mother had gone down to the village grocery store, Mr Lucas was the only person we knew who had a telephone, to phone my father just before he ewmbarked for Egypt. My sisters were in bed in a room that had been shored up to minimise bomb damage when jerry let a few bombs go all around us. They were quite lightweight bombs, although we didn't know it at the time. I literally threw the girls out of one bed under the adjoining bed. The next morning we discovered the nearest crater, quite a small one really, about 50yds from the front door in Farmer Wood's field. The other occasion was early one morning when on my paper round jerry decided to have a go at Shoreham Airport and did considerable damage to the main hanger.
We always took a great interest in Shoreham and it's aircraft. At times there was Spitfires based there, but it's main purpose was Air Sea Rescue with Walrus flying boats which were used to fish downed airman out of the English Channel, and Westland Lysanders. We never worked out at that time why they were there, they could have been used as Army Co-operation duties, or perhaps they were some that were used to put agents into France. I don't know. One of the big excitements was when a Flying Fortress had to make a forced landing there, the village lads were on their bikes to see such a modern and big bomber.
There are other tales to tell at another time of the war in Sussex.

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