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This story is from Bill Spry and is added to the site with his permission.

I was in Blake’s office on Sept 2nd 1939, when an announcement was made on the radio that the Territorial Army was to be mobilised and that all T.A soldiers should immediately report to their units.
I went home, changed into my uniform, said goodbye to my mother and sisters (I think my mother was crying) and went off to War via the Park St Depot. When I got there it was a scene of utter confusion. No arrangements had been made to feed us and there was not enough floor space for everybody to lie down and sleep.
In the end we were told to go home and come back the following morning. Next day more farewells (not quite so tearful). This was repeated for four days. In the end I used to shout upstairs “I’m off now”.
Eventually we did move...in requisitioned furniture vans and lorries with slogans like “Nextstop Berlin” and “Look out Hiltler” written on the sides, we did go off to War, all the way to Worcester Racecourse approximately 70 miles!
The officers, of course, had the grand stand offices to themselves. The men slept in the stables, on the bare earth, with a ground sheet to shield them from the damp. We sergeants managed to find a hut so we had a wooden floor to sleep on. After a few days we paid 12/6d each to buy folding campbeds. I kept mine for many years afterwards. After a week I was detailed with four men to operate the General’s switchboard. We were billeted in a pub with real beds to sleep on.
I think we stayed in Worcester for six weeks when the Division Signals, (my unit) moved again, this time to Saundersfoot in South Wales.
The men were billeted in people’s house. There was a legal requirement to provided a bed space (nothing more) for which the tenant was paid a ridiculous amount, something like two pence per night. The very lucky soldiers got beds, the unlucky ones got just bare boards. We sergeants managed to get ourselves billeted in the local pub with, of course beds.
The General issued an order that everyone should do “P.T” (Physical Training) at 6:30 every morning. While we were doing our physical jerks on the beach, he used to ride around on his horse, watching us.
The “Phoney War” was on at this time with nothing much happening anywhere, so some of us were able to get “sleeping out” passes. I had married Sylvia on 11th Nov 1939. I managed to get a very nice room in a house where the back garden opened up on to the beach.
At this time my rank was “lance sergeant”. There were two of us “Bunny” King and myself. It is a sort of “acting” rank. We got all the unpleasant jobs going, Guard Commander at least once a week, Transport Sergeant in charge of baggage when we moved, etc.
In time I was lumbered with the job of “Sergeants Mess Caterer” I had to buy considerable quantities of whisky, wines and
such like.

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