My great-niece, who is a Sophmore in her school (in another state), was given an assignment this summer to read a book and not just report on it, but to study it, annotate it, and write an essay about it, among other things.
The book was Unbroken. It's about a fella in the Pacific Theater of Operations. I was familiar with the name of the fella, having just read another book that included his name.
I am old enough that I have read not only about the World Wars, but about the entanglement in Viet Nam and decided long ago that I would never again read about the extreme cruelty that one human can inflict on another. I had friends and classmates die in Viet Nam. I have a nephew who has been involved in the Middle East messes. I have read more than enough about war.
interview someone about their experiences in World War II
Memories of World War II, 1939-1945
1939: I returned to Malpas after living with my grandparents for about 6 years.
I had come down with Scarlet Fever - the ONLY one in the school - so, after 6 weeks of quarantine in my bedroom, I went to the country for fresh air, fresh milk, eggs, etc. Times were difficult and I had three brothers at home, John, David and Douglas Gimblett, so when war was imminent, it was all be together!
My Father was a Civil Servant and he was one of several men who set up tables and chairs on the pavement, in front of the "Milk Bar", for men to sign up for military duty.
One of the first things we had to do was go to Malpas school to be fitted with a very nasty smelling Gas Mask, which we carried everywhere, and ID and ration book.
Black-out curtains were put up on every window, every doorway. Windows were taped and some became very creative: No lights to show anywhere! There were volunteer Air Raid Wardens who patrolled the neighborhood to make sure that no lights were visible. No street lights. No bus lights! Headlights were painted the top half outside, bottom half inside, so that light shone down; same with flashlights (torches) and bicycle headlights.
Air raid shelters. We lived in a semi-detached, which meant we had a backyard and garden, so an air raid shelter was put in the garden. What were they? 6 ft deep? 4 ft deep? All I know is that ours was up against the garden shed, had twin bunk beds and we had heat and electric light. Dad's shed had had electric forever and an electric heater that was used on really frosty nights. I don't remember spending too many nights in the shelter.
There were also Morrison shelters for indoors that were like a heavy steel cage. Areas that did not have yards big enough - like "Pill" - the streets were dug up and shelters big enough for maybe 20-30 people! The same with school. I was going to Brynglas Central and a couple of playing fields gave way for shelters large enough for 20-30 students. After the first "nervous" exit we were told "don’t forget your books; we will study in the shelter”!
When I left school at 14 years I went to work at Ferris Grocery, corner of Bridge Street and Cambrian Road. When there was a raid, our shelter was next door at a brewery, down in the cellar, walking through the sloshed beer! Can you imagine the impression we made, young teenagers, reeking of beer, riding the busses. Last bus to anywhere was 10 pm.
When the convoys were heading for the docks, they would stop where Malpas Road and Brynglas Road meet, by Malpas Road Presbyterian Church, so naturally everyone rallied around and had refreshments for the troops. Where they got the tea and biscuits, etc, I have no idea.
Of course when the school children heard that a convoy was at the bottom of the hill they just came from everywhere. The children asked the soldiers, "Any gum chums?", and asked for insignia from their uniforms to add to their collections.
There was a church behind the railway station that also had a group of volunteers. A couple of volunteers would go to the station to find any serviceman, having a long wait between trains, who was invited to the church hall for tea, or coffee and what food was available or even a cot or bunk bed. "Take off your boots and rest. We will wake you in plenty of time”.
Everyone rode the bus or had a bicycle or walked. There were no personal cars; no petrol; no tyres.
There was a "blockade" near Bettws Lane and Blaen-y-pant, by the old Desmond Llewellyn home – “Q” in James Bond movies! One time I was out late and was challenged. "Halt, who goes there?" I had been visiting a friend, Betty Herring, when the sirens sounded. Her mother wouldn't let me go home, so we were in the shelter for hours. It must have been almost midnight when the all clear sounded so Betty and her mother walked me home from Crindau area to Malpas. Mrs Herring explained to the sentry why were out late and where I lived: no problem. My mother wasn't concerned, she knew where I had gone and that they would see me safe.
I worked at Ferris' for about 1 year, then went to work for "Uncle" Roy Hurford in the canteen at Mountstuart Dry Dock. There was Uncle Roy, the cook, and 4 or 5 girls. Joan Parsons (Dowd) was one of them; we are still friends, although long distance. How Uncle Roy managed the meals, I don’t know. A lot of substitutions?
There was a Russian oil tanker, The Azerbaijan with a hole big enough to drive a truck through. New Years dinner in the officer’s dining room, white table cloths! silver! food, food, and more food! What happened to rationing? Joan and I at the head table, sitting under a portrait of Stalin! The engineer was a woman as was the 1st mate. Very friendly people, enjoyable evenings; but then they were our allies!
Then there was the Kincup, a Canadian destroyer all repaired; ready to go back to sea; water entering the dock - ship capsized! All the security came down from wherever! What a commotion that caused!
It was whilst I was at the canteen that workmen were coming in asking, Peg, you have family in Eveswell Street?, again and again; when I got home, I asked Dad and he said, Yes, that’s where Gladys lives! Number 13 got hit and 7 out of 9 people living there lost their lives. The Gimlets, grandparents, parents, Uncle, 3 girls. Just Edwin & Louise survived. Eddie spending months in hospital with shrapnel in his head and with broken limbs. (He died just over a year ago. He was 90 years old and still had the shrapnel in his head.) That happened July 1st 1941.
Aside from Eveswell, the closest bombing that I can remember was a bomb dropped just below Twm Barlwm. It didn’t do any damage, only a hole in the ground. Another time a bomb landed in the mud at the Dry Docks but didn’t do any damage.
That brings me to another disaster. Brother Doug and I were to be evacuated to Canada to Dad's brother. We were all packed, ready to go. The ship ahead of ours the "Benares" was torpedoed, I think 77 children went down. There were 3 sisters from Malpas - 8, 10, 12 years - and I think 5 boys from Newport of which 2 were brothers from Stow Hill or St Woolos area. The government cancelled the evacuation plan.
After a year at the Dry Dock, I went to work at Kings factory - near Clarence place - only because my parents wouldn't sign papers for me to go into the Land Army (they already had 1 son in army, 2 in RAF, 1 in munitions.) We made ammunition boxes and helped on coffins when needed - like D Day. At 17 1/2 years the Boss signed my release papers and off to the Land Army went I! (You couldn’t just quit a vital job and move on; there had to be a good reason.)
October? November? Cold! Cold! Frosty! Off I went to Oaklands Park, near Newnham, Glos, close enough to get home on weekends. There were about 16-20 of us billeted in the servants quarters at Oaklands. The only staff left was the butler, his wife-cook, etc, and sometimes 2 maids. We seldom saw Lord or Lady Evans. Usually by 7:30 we were being "trucked" to one of the local farms to help out, only men under 16 or over 45-50 left to do farm work. We did Everything: milking, clean up, planting, reaping, haymaking, etc - but Back to Newport - -
For entertainment there was always the pictures and dancing! - ballroom dancing – continental tango, waltz, foxtrot. In the town, itself, we went to the barracks at the top of Stow Hill then to Conti's cafĂ© at the bottom, opposite the Kings Head. If we were down near Cardiff road, there was another Conti's. There was always fish ‘n’ chips! And whatever non-alcoholic drink available!
After a few scares with the air raid sirens, as long as you couldn't hear a plane or a Big Bertha (gun firing) we all went about our normal routine, always aware of where the nearest shelter was. It didn't stop us from showing up at Stow Hill - dancing - Lysaghts - dancing - the pictures at the Odeon, Colliseum etc.
Then, in 1942? 43? Here came the Yanks with that crazy dancing Jitterbug!
We saw many nationalities besides the Russians & Canadians. There were Yugoslavs, Free French, Gurkhas, and probably many others that I did not recognize.
When it was announced that the war in Europe was over I was helping to plough a field in Newnham. Me, leading the horse, Mr Wilshire guiding the plow, Val Morgan from Bridgend, Maureen Morgan - no relation - from Bristol, picking up rocks, etc. We said goodbye Mr Wilshire, see you on Monday and we headed for Newport. We were in the middle of town with the celebration, as I recall, up on somebody's shoulders. It was alright - we wore jodhpurs or dungarees. We also wore kneesocks, brogans, green sweaters and ties, small beige hats.
Shortages during the War
No stockings. Women didn't wear slacks or trousers unless
the worked in a factory or on a farm. So
we were bare legged for 5 years. We
learned to get by barter Dad always
grew vegetables, so we could trade veg for eggs or whatever was needed. It wasn't black market - no money changed
hands. At "Uncle” Roy’s stall in Newport Market,
he would personally ration cigarettes.
When a shipment came in he would put some back for early morning workers
& so many for night workers, and only a 10pk at a time. We all did what was right.
I don't recall ever being hungry although rationing was strict. There was always fish & chips and lots of vegetables and Fish & Chips! We didn't have bananas or pineapple or peaches for 5 years but there was always Fish & Chips! Plenty of orchard fruits, apples, pears, plums, berries, blackberries, strawberries. Dad was a gardener and amongst other things, he could also cobble, tailor - anything that was needed.
The American Camp was past Malpas, past Westfield - opposite Parc y Prior? So we were covered one end of town to the other! Soldiers at Malpas, Sailors at the Docks! I think that the airmen were nearer to Cardiff. We were more fortunate than a lot of areas.
Between Malpas & Caerleon I think there was a POW camp, where Usk Vale is, down the old Roman road – Pillmawr. I was on my bike and had trouble. Here came a “Tommy” with 5 or 6 men in a different uniform offering to help. I said “No thanks, I can fix it”. Was there a POW camp there?
I left Newport May 20, 1946; left at Southampton May 24th. I celebrated my 20th birthday at sea.
I have been back several times – niece’s weddings, etc 1956 - 1970 - 1971 – 1986 – 2007 - 2009.
Newport has changed A Lot. There was no Brynglas Tunnel / John Frost Square / Pedestrian Commercial Road and the old Castle is still falling down.
