The Instant Army that came from Nowhere 

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Absolutely alone, with the British Army decimated.

                 A Channel’s width away, Hitler’s massive, and seemingly, invincible, Wehrmacht regrouped ready to launch “the Blitzkrieg” upon our shores.

       The world looked on. Military experts, (some in UK) didn’t give Britain a dog’s chance of survival and certain senior Cabinet Ministers pressed Churchill to negotiate a peace, or suffer the bloodiest of defeats.

             By the Grace of God, there were those who chose to fight after all,

  “….  What sort of people do they think we are…?”   

        ………………………………………………………………………….

My Life at Mumbles Coastguard Station

All Five of us Boys

Under the belligerent, defiant leadership of Winston Churchill the country began to rally. The Royal Navy responded to the beat of Drake’s Drum and the cream of British youth had flocked to enlist in the Royal Air Force. On top of this, the response to Anthony Eden’s ‘Call to Arms’ warmed Churchill’s heart. This was a message, loud and clear, from the masses of the country that they backed him 100 per cent!

 A clarion call had been made and the response had spelt out a clear message, not only to Hitler, but the rest of the world!   

         This battered and bleeding country was really going to fight it out!

    The title, “Local Defence Volunteers” had a short life. Churchill felt it to be  descriptive of an irregular guerrilla type of force, not military enough and lacking in patriotic feeling.

             He chose the name: “The Home Guard”.  It was to capture the heart and mind of the entire nation and, unwittingly, this newly formed body was to supply the answer to another problem.

      Since the outbreak of the conflict, most Mumbles lads, and lasses, had tried their best to get involved in the war effort, but in vain. There were age restrictions, of course, to most of the civilian war organisations but even when these did not apply, they were frustrated in their efforts. For example, some had tried to get into the ARP as “Messengers”and when presenting themselves at the HQ, in Marine Villa, Newton Road, they were told that there were no vacancies. Later, it was found out that all these posts had been filled by the younger people from the Langland and Caswell families.  The village boys did not quite measure up in appearance and conduct.

 Ah! The penalties of serfdom! However, one door closes……..!

    One August evening, irrepressible Peter Hooper, of Gower Place, called in to see me and announced that he was going to join the LDV.  He had made all the necessary enquiries and, by putting his age up a little, knew he would be accepted. Off he went. A few days later he reported back with favourable news.

   As a result, the following Saturday afternoon, Peter Smith, Hubert Davies, Jackie Timothy, Gwyn Grace and Grafton Maggs, walked into the Regent Cinema and presented themselves to a handsome, grey haired gentleman seated at a trestle table, at the side of the hall. He sat beneath a large notice board with fearsome pictures of men lunging at stuffed sacks with bayonets. This gentleman turned out to be the C Company Admin Officer and his name was Captain Howard, he was wearing, not only the ribbons of WW1, but also those of the Boer War.  Whilst waiting for his attention, I noticed that on the opposite side of the hall standing around a table, were six uniformed LDV. They were listening intently to a corporal whose hands were busy on a lethal looking machine gun. He was twisting this, and pulling that, causing large lumps of mechanism to miraculously separate away from its parent body.  I was impressed and later  learned that this weapon was a WW1 Lewis Light Machine Gun and the instructing NCO was, fanatically keen, Cyril Jenkins of Albert Place. It was rumoured that he slept with this weapon and even took it to the toilet with him, rate of fire was 480 rounds per minute (not Cyril, the gun).

        The gracious Captain Howard greeted us warmly. Gave us forms to complete and sign. This we did. Although born in 1925, I put my year of birth as 1923. There were no questions asked. We were in. I was now Private Grafton Maggs of the Mumbles LDV. It was all too easy, far easier than the coming interview with my parents.

  I returned home and broke the news. It was as I expected, Dad blew his top, and pointed out that I was now in my third year in grammar school with CWB school certificate examinations coming up in 1941. My mother had hysterics and collapsed sobbing,

   “My little baby is going to war! They’re taking him to the hell of the trenches …No! No!..Cannon fodder! Mustard Gas!... No! No! …Strange lands! … ”

     I pointed out that it wasn’t exactly the Foreign Legion and the farthest I’d be away from home was Blackpill. Eventually, I wore them down. But! there were conditions. They accepted that I could face Hitler’s Teutonic hordes if they should choose to land on the beach at Oystermouth….. “But you mustn’t be late for school, the next day…”

  My mother promised to write me every day, send me food parcels and knit me a balaclava.

 I had my way and:

        So began one of the most rewarding and enjoyable periods of my whole life.

             I suppose it came as a bit of a shock.

The unit left the terraced house, by Lloyds Garage, which they shared with the Air Raid Wardens. Something about a rifle being discharged accidentally was the cause of the move 

       No one was hurt, but, being rather highly strung, nervous individuals, they spilled their tea. I gather, too, that their draughtboard lost a corner. It was all a very minor event, a sort of (forgive me)  “storm in a teacup” , to which they overreacted, making a song and dance about it.

    Thesaid a number of unkind things, which hurt,

     “You’re not supposed to shoot us, you daft buggers! Haven’t you been told? You’re supposed to shoot bloody Germans!”

        Things were never quite the same again. In a huff, the Home Guard boys transferred their Guard Room a hundred yards down the Mumbles Road, to the more spacious Vivian Hall, which they guarded devoutly until the day they stood down, all the time with the happy knowledge that there was no fussy individual upstairs who might, complain, if the odd bullet, or two, whistled up between his legs.

       So, undeterred, the Mumbles Home Guard soldiered on.

  Soon, denims were replaced with better fitting, serge battledress. More steel helmets arrived. As supplied to the regular forces, identifying shoulder flashes and arm badges were issued, carrying respectively “Home Guard” and “12 GLN” lettering. These replaced the ‘Home Guard’ arm bands. By now, the leather belts and gaiters had acquired a polished weathered look (ruddy brown) and the boys really began to look the part.

     The War Office went a stage further and recognized the Home Guard as being a competent military unit. They took over command and as a result the Home Guard became an integral part of the British Army.

 Major H Davies MC was promoted to Lt. Colonel and departed to take overall command of the 12th Bn.  He moved off to Pant Gwyn, and was joined by Captain Hayes of Newton Road, as his full time Adjutant. There was now a permanent staff at Pant Gwyn under the supervision of RSM Mugford (an ex-regular, with a mean, hard look about him).

 Meanwhile, back at C Company, Major Bert Palmer took over with Captain Ben Walker-Jones as his 2nd i/c.  Lt Chown was promoted to Weapon Training Officer and Sgt Bishop was commissioned to become Platoon Commander.  His able deputy was now Sgt. George Rees.

   Hitler held off his invasion until Goering could assure him of air superiority. This,  Goering failed to achieve and our boys in blue, with their Spitfires and Hurricanes, won the Battle of Britain. Britain had bought time.

 By the end of the first year, the younger element was fully accepted by the veterans. They saw that these youngsters were in deadly earnest, never missing a parade, always well turned out and did what they were told, without question. The whole unit began to bond. The youngsters learned a lot from their seniors - knowledge which, one day soon, would serve them well.

  Twice a year, a weekend training camp was held in Reynoldsdon, Gower.

And, what fantastically enjoyable times they were!

Here the unit fired rifles on the ranges that had been constructed for the Regular Army on the Oxwich Marshes. Lewis guns and Vickers guns, too, were fired and grenades thrown. The Company slept in Bell Tents erected on one of the fields by the Village Hall, which was used as a Mess. In the evenings, social functions were held in the Hall, again, contributing to the comradeship of the unit.  

 Once every six weeks, one took one’s turn on all night guard duties at the Vivian Hall. Guard was mounted at 2100hrs and stood down at 0600hrs, in time to catch the first Mumbles Train up. In my case,  there was comfortable time to get home, wash, change, breakfast and go to School! Most times the pickets were juggled to consist of the same soldiers, those who enjoyed being together. I was invariably on picket with Alex Kostromin, Duggie Stainton, Gwyn Grace, Duncan Bishop, Peter Smith and Hubert Davies. Without any doubt, Britain could sleep safely on those nights when we were on duty with our Lee Enfields, and five rounds of.303.

   There was variety. Weekend exercises, when HG Units“attacked” Fairwood Airfield to test its defences and the efficiency of the newly formed,  RAF Regiment. In turn, the HG, defended its area, to be “attacked” by sea forces, practising beach landing techniques. Skills to be needed in the years ahead.

   Vulnerable parts of the Swansea Bay coastline were strengthened. Between the Mumbles Train track and the seawall, giant concrete cubes were constructed of 5 foot side. (With considerable difficulty, these cubes were removed after the war and used as landfill, for the new Blackpill Lido). Careful examination of the sea wall between Norton and West Cross will reveal the right angle silhouettes left after their removal.

    That area in Blackpill, (now the Lido), was considered a likely landing place for enemy tanks. It was wired off with concertina and apron barbed wire and heavily mined with anti tank and anti personnel mines. Clearly signposted warnings kept everyone well away. However experts on the Mumbles Train (of which there was never a shortage) expressed doubts as to whether the area was genuinely mined.

   We soon found out!

 On a weekday mid morning, Swansea echoed to the sound of an enormous explosion!

      Looking across the bay from the Slip, worried workers from the Baths Laundry saw a black column of smoke rising over Blackpill. By lunchtime, news of what had happened, reached the school. On the Mumbles Train home that evening, we crowded to the windows and looked across the mined area. Just inside the barbed wire perimeter, was a 12 ft. crater, still smoking.  We were distressed to hear later that a dog had managed to wriggle its way through the wire. This unfortunate animal had triggered off the explosion.

      The mines were the real thing!

C Company was now allocated a more precise area to defend, concentrated upon the Blackpill area.  Concrete pillboxes had been constructed in strategic places around the coastline, and at road junctions.  One pillbox faced up the Mayals, on the sea side of the Mumbles Road. It was very skilfully camouflaged to look like an ice cream kiosk and was emblazoned with the name “Belli’s Ices”. I spent many hours in this damp, wet floored structure looking up the Mayals. Along with my comrades, I felt rather unhappy with the design, the engineers  had forgotten to put apertures on the beach side, where the enemy was most likely to land! The occupants could only look up the Mayals! Fortunately, it was never put to the ultimate test.

(Incidentally, one beach pillbox is still in existence in the sand dunes between Sketty Lane and Brynmill).

    As the threat of invasion receded, the role of the Home Guard gradually changed. A new and more active participation in the country’s defence, was on its way. The veterans, who had been there from day one, now stood back a little and the younger element came to the fore. Younger officers and NCOs appeared, all having come through the ranks and as a result, the Home Guard took on the polished, neat appearance of a regular army unit. Morale was high.

      On a number of occasions, the soldiers of C Company were called for extra duties. There was the time the Mumbles Hill, overlooking Bracelet Bay, was set ablaze by jettisoned incendiary bombs. The dry bracken was ignited and flames swept up the slopes to threaten the 3.7 Battery positioned at the top.   Every available man in the area, from all three Services, was needed to put out this enormous conflagration, a guiding beacon seen across the Channel. Alongside the regulars, C Company fought the flames until the early hours of the morning.

     When Swansea was attacked by the Luftwaffe in February 1941. Members of the Mumbles Home Guard were amongst those who went to the town to assist the overwhelmed ARP services, this became a frequent duty during other lesser raids. These duties alone justified the existence of the Home Guard.

   Gradually, other active duties were allocated to this enormous reserve of manpower and, as a result, released many thousands of regular soldiers for active service overseas. The guarding of strategically important buildings, such as power stations, was undertaken and new Home Guard Artillery units were formed to man anti aircraft guns and “Z” Battery rockets. Peter Smith, now with the rank of Sergeant, found himself  manning the heavy coastal defence guns on the Lighthouse Island  

      There was a price paid for this devotion to duty and it is a little known fact that over 1200 Home Guards were killed on duty and many thousands wounded in the service of their country.

 Improvements continued and as the demands of the regular forces were met, so new weapons became available for the Home Guard. Cast aside, was the primitive, homemade “Molotov Cocktail”, to be replaced by the awesome “Sticky Bomb”. Anti tank mines were issued and the notoriously inaccurate “Blacker Bombard” anti tank spigot mortar was supplied to specially trained squads. Firing this latter weapon was more frightening that facing a Royal Tiger Tank.  

      There had been a glaring gap in the armamentarium of the British Infantryman since the outbreak of hostilities. The British soldier had no equivalent to the German Infantryman’s beautifully engineered Schmeisser. This light, automatic sub machine gun  had more than proved its worth in the conflicts in eastern and western Europe.

Some sort of deal was hatched with the Americans, resulting in the appearance of the .45 Thompson Sub-Machine Gun, better known to the filmgoer as the Tommy Gun or – Al Capone’s violin. This was far too heavy and of too high a calibre, by 1942, the lighter, British made 9mm Sten Gun had replaced it. The Home Guard inherited the discarded Thompsons.

       Four came to C Company. Somehow or other, showy weapons such as these always seemed to fall into the hands of those with a theatrical bent. St. Valentine Day massacres were regularly acted out by these comedians.

         As in other heavily bombed towns, Swansea made use of the devastated Crescents of Townhill.  Areas were set off and used for street fighting exercises. Under the direction of the Regular Army, the Swansea and Cardiff Home Guard Companies were invited to make use of these facilities.

        More and more courses became available alongside the Regulars and it was my privilege to be sent to the Western Command Weapon Training School at Altcar, near Liverpool. Here for a fortnight I received instruction in light machine guns, grenades and mines and was treated with all the respect shown to an NCOs in the Regular Army.

    I learned a lot and this knowledge was to serve me well within a year or so.

  In 1941, C Company had the good fortune of recruiting ex-CSM Jack Anderson of the Welsh Guards. He was appointed Drill Sergeant and such was his impact that C Company won every drill competition held throughout the South Wales Area and had the honour of being inspected by Winston Churchill himself when he visited Swansea, following the February 1941 blitzes.

     Regarding that visit, two things stick in my mind! As Churchill passed within two feet of me, I was surprised to see that he had sandy hair!  The other thing. As a morale boosting backdrop to this great occasion, the powers that be had set up a shot down Messerschmidt 109, on the Green before the Guildhall.  This was the first Luftwaffe plane that I had seen on the ground and, to this day, I clearly remember the distinctive camouflage green and the beauty of this magnificent fighter. But, for all that, a beauty second to that of the Spitfire!

    It was a wonderful day and the visit of this great leader to Swansea was a tremendous morale booster. The people of Swansea turned out in their thousands to give him a rapturous welcome.

      There was a lighter side to life in the Home Guard!  It wasn’t all duty!  After parade, groups of pals would regularly drop off at their favourite hostelry, drink a pint or two, mull  over the evening’s events and grope their ways home through the black-out.

It didn’t take long for socialisers Pte Fred Allen and Cpl. Bryn Critchett to set up a recreations committee. With remarkable discernment, they utilised the floor area in the Regent, to create a badminton court. This was a much used facility in off duty periods. One winter’s evening, a Concert and Dinner was held in that loveliest of venues, the Langland Bay Hotel. Such was its success that it became an annual event.

      Sergeant George Rees showed himself to be a one song tenor, (always, “the Mountains of Mourne”). CSM Mitchell’s lovely daughter proved to be an accomplished accordionist. Mitchell, himself, sang “the Company Sergeant Major!”. Bombardier “Tiny” Harcourt, from the Mumbles Battery, showed how he won his heat of the Caroll Levis Discoveries Show, with his hilarious comedian’s act, and, primed with a few ales, how the boys sangalong!

   Once a year, the local ENSA Company took over the Regent and gave a concert. Every one of the artistes was a professional performer and, what a show they put on for C Company and their many friends! I heard a top class tenor sing live, for the first time in my life. Covent Garden’s Walter Glynne sang to a packed house. Listening to Bing Crosby was never the same again.

 By the end of 1944, victory in Europe, was in sight. No longer was Britain in peril and no longer was there any need for this fine body of men.

  It was time to hand in weapons and stand down. The enthusiasm and devotion to duty of the Mumbles Home Guard had never flagged, throughout the four and a half years of its existence. They had never received one penny for all those hours of service but were enriched in other ways beyond their wildest dreams.

      And what did it all mean to the ordinary, run of the mill, soldier here in Mumbles? Obviously, I cannot speak for everyone but I can speak for myself!

As a 15 year old, I rubbed shoulders with experienced veterans. I listened and I learned. I saw the other side of Mumbles men whom I had formerly perceived as ordinary workers, shopkeepers, tillers of the soil and the like.

          I saw the breakdown of social barriers when young, and old,- irrespective of occupation or social background- joined forces for a common purpose.

         I had the great joy of being accepted by these worthy people and respected.

         I relished the feeling of being an integral part of an army unit.

         I acquired an enormous amount of military knowledge.

And, above all, I experienced that indefinable wonderful something called    

“Camaraderie”.

        As the war progressed, so the younger Home Guards, one by one, were called away to join the Regular Forces. Amongst the many were, John Varley, Alan Millichip and Jack Timothy who left for flying duties with the RAF. Pat Rees of West Cross gained a coveted place at Dartmouth as an RN Cadet, and George Parsons and Hubert Davies became matelots.

    Then came the turn of that special bunch of green, village lads who had all enrolled together in 1940. One by one, Peter Hooper, Duncan Bishop, Peter Smith and Grafton Maggs, left to become part of the Regular Army.      

By 1943, they’d all gone and they were good, and ready, for service anywhere!                                                                  .        

Addendum.  

                         The Home Guard stood down, as 1944 drew to a close.  Suddenly, after four and a half years of parades, three times a week, the “getting together”, and the pint afterwards, was over.

                    For the rest of their lives, these good men would look back and remember with a haunting joy, those days of comradeship.

   Nothing could take that away.

 Britain’ Home Guard.   

May 1940 to December 1944.      

God Bless Them All.