More Wartime Memories compiled by Finvola Davies

 More: Wartime Memories by Betty Sivertsen >

Second World War 1939 to 1945

More Wartime Memories
compiled by Finvola Davies

My friends and I used to cycle to Langland Bay during the summer – we had a tent on the beach and even though there was some barbed wire the tents continued all through the war.  I was a Girl Guide and member of Pantygwydir Youth Club and a regular member of St. Paul’s Church, Sketty.  At the beginning of the war I became involved in Swansea Little Theatre which used to meet in St. Gabriel’s Church Hall.  The Little Theatre kept going throughout the war.  Everything we did was to raise funds for the war effort.  As most of the men went off to join the services, parts had to be taken by those who were too old, not fit, too young or those in reserved occupations!  I remember being in a dreary Russian play to raise funds for ‘Food for Russia.’ But usually the plays were light hearted and designed to entertain. 

In about 1942 I went to work for the Evening Post in Swansea Castle and became secretary to the editor so was always aware of breaking news.  We had new technology at the Post and were able to print photographs.  All sorts of important people dropped into the Post to give interviews and pass on information, including, I recall, Huw Weldon and Dylan Thomas!  It felt as though we were the centre of the universe – the Docks and Wind Street – it was always buzzing.   

My father would send all of his American contacts to visit us.  I have vivid memories of the Americans arriving in Swansea, driving around in jeeps, bringing very generous presents and coming to supper.  I particularly remember them bringing tins of Spam and tinned fruit.  On one occasion my friends and I had been invited to the wedding of friends from the Little Theatre, when the Americans knew they turned up with supplies of luxury foods for the wedding breakfast! 

My friend Jose Green’s father was manager of the Swans.  He used to give tickets to Commander Johnson who was in charge of the Royal Navy in the docks to give to the men.  Commander Joohnson used to take services on a Sunday at St. Augustine’s Church in Swansea and often came to tea after the service.  I have a copy of me attending a service at St. James’s Church organised by Commander Johnson.  The service was held there because St. Mary’s had been bombed. 

We lived in a small cottage, Glenview, Balaclava Road.  This was on the lower but steep slopes of the Drummau Mountain.  The large garden on this steep slope had been set in three tiers, the top tier having been supported by a dry stone wall some five feet high.  At the far end of this wall was the original outdoor toilet built quite steeply into the top tier of the garden with strong masonry.  This toilet had been replaced by another nearer the house and it now housed all the gardening tools.  Father filled sacks with soil or sand and placed them on the corrugated zinc roof of this old toilet.  Benches were placed round the walls inside and by the time of the Swansea blitz we were able to shelter with some half a dozen of our close neighbours in this make-do contraption.   

We were at a level above the valley floor and could look out over the River Tawe below and to Clydach and beyond.  On the first night of the blitz I remember sitting in our make-do shelter for some time but wanting to see more.  I left the shelter and had a clear view of the valley.  Then some German bombers flew at a height for some distance up the valley, turned and dropped height considerably on their attack into Swansea.  By this time they were pretty well on a level from where I stood and I still swear I could see their pilots controlling planes on the attack on the dockland area.  Another memory was of attacks carried out on the oil works of Llandarcy or Baglan.  The entire area that I could see from Glais in the direction of Birchgrove towards Skewen and Neath was very very brilliantly lit for a number of nights with a most brilliant effect. 

On the third night of the blitz I became an awkward customer and refused to leave my bed to go to the shelter – all I had witnessed on the first two nights had happened quite some distance away.  Certainly no bombs had been dropped in the valley area, the assumption was that the Mond Nickel works in Clydach were established by a German!!  However, an hour or so after resting in bed, three bombs were dropped, presumably by an escaping plane, no more than a thousand or so yards from the house, in the meadow of the family farm, Cwmcyrnach.  I left the house faster than at any time!  The three craters are there to this day, now covered in grass. 

Following the blitz we were informed by radio that we were not to return to school until instructed to do so.  After some three weeks or so the message came across the radio that we were now able to return to school.  Do I remember that first day??  The 29 bus took us from Glais to Swansea.  It arrived not at its terminus alongside St. Mary’s church but not too far away.  What a scene met our eyes.  The blitz had been thorough.  Rubble clearance of the roadways had been effected to some degree but we had to make our ways through piles of destruction to get to school.  Dynevor school itself did not escape damage.  The top floor which contained the school hall, the chemistry and physics laboratories and the senior school lecture room was destroyed.  There were problems on the return to school.  It was just a few months before the Higher School Certificate examinations.  I was sent up to the Technical school where I was taught by Grammar School teachers for History and English but they were studying different periods in History and different texts in English.  Somehow Mr. Llewelyn John, Dynevor headmaster, arranged for me to complete my course with my original teachers, but my Welsh teacher had been evacuated to Cardiganshire with some boys from the junior classes.   

My school exams were completed in June 1941.  I had decided to apply for admission to Swansea University.  My friend and fellow prefect Harry Jones argued that whatever happened we were destined for military service and he volunteered for service immediately.  Many years later I heard that he died in a Japanese prisoner of war camp. 

I was admitted to Swansea University in October 1941 and was advised that I would be permitted to complete the first year of my studies provided that I joined the university Home Guard.  There were no lectures on Wednesday afternoons and so this was the ideal time for Home Guard parades.  At that time some two hundred science students had been evacuated from London universities together with some of their lecturers.  Inevitably the officers of the Home Guard came from the latter group.  The chief was a Captain Dannat who looked the part. 

In those days there were no uniforms and no weapons.  Can you imagine 50 or so of us charging around Singleton Park in civilian dress carrying broomsticks to represent rifles and shrieking wildly – this was to represent a bayonet attack!  After some weeks of this I decided that I would make a better contribution to the war effort by helping on the farm of mother’s aged uncle – I could plough with a team of horses, milk the dairy herd, clear out the cowsheds and the stables and so on.  After a few weeks of this I was called before my betters!  The panel of three comprised a brigadier, a wing commander and a captain, and there was I, poor Williams!  I explained to them the reason for my absence.  There was a period of consultation between the three, after which the brigadier turned to me with the following comments – I could remain in the university for a year on condition that I did not in future absent myself from any Home Guard parade – and, Williams, before very long you will understand the meaning of discipline!!!  Following this I learned my lesson.  Uniforms and old German rifles had been issued and I completed the year without missing any Home Guard parade. 

I completed my first year courses and then stayed a further term.  I received my calling up papers which informed me that I was to join the army on 17th December 1942.  The papers arrived two or three weeks before enlistment day.  In the interim period terminal examinations had been arranged at the university.  I went to Professor Ernest Hughes, professor of History, to ask if there was any point in my attending as I had received calling up papers to the armed services.  His immediate reply was “You must attend Mr Williams, you will take with you fragrant memories.”  Indeed he gave me a very high mark!!  

The following article was Betty Sivertsen’s contribution >. 

September 3nd 1939 I was at Pickett Mead at Alf Owen’s riding club, a lone plane flew over, we did not see so many planes in those days, and I noticed this one.  On returning home I was told war had been declared.  It was not unexpected but a shock all the same.  A few days later the siren sounded, maybe a trial.  What did we expect?  What was in front of us?  Little by little all was revealed. 

We had gas masks, identity cards, rations, black outs, pitch black streets, queuing for meat, fruit, all food.  We all started to dig for victory, even the grass between the runways at the aerodrome was planted with potatoes.  All railings and gateposts were removed and there were some pretty ones in Mumbles and Newton, indeed anything that could be melted down for the war effort.  Blackout material was supplied and heaven help you if the A.R.P. warden came around and saw even a chink of light.  My father was an A.R.P. warden and every night he donned his tin hat and did a tour of Newton.  Car headlights had been adapted but there were those who left their cars on the roads outside with their lights on.  My father went out armed with brown paper bags which he put over the headlights.  I do not know what the owners thought when they returned.  Maybe Hitler was on the prowl. 

I worked at Cwmfelin Steel Works, Cwmbwrla, and was exempt from call-up so I joined the Red Cross and together with St. John’s Ambulance, A.R.P. wardens, Car Drivers and First Aiders we were a band of wonderful volunteers who would turn up irrespective of danger immediately the siren sounded.  We met at the wonderful old British Legion Hall which was behind Boots and the supermarket.  A large hall used in peace time for all sorts of things, it was the hub of Mumbles, but in war time it was worth its weight in gold.  By now ships were getting mined in the channel and the injured would be brought to the British Legion Hall before going to hospital.  The very serious went straight to hospital.  We had dedicated doctors on hand who never seemed to sleep, Dr. Marks, Dr. Kyle, Dr Lloyd Jones and so on. 

Now a subtle change was coming over, all our young men were in uniform, only coming home on leave.  Many were sent a long way from Mumbles and there was the sadness of not coming home. 

Fairwood was a very active aerodrome, full of personnel, pilots, air crew, W.A.A.F.s and all types of aircraft.  We would if possible count them going out.  Their coming back in could be sad.  Fairwood ended up with those big Flying Fortresses. 

One day, I cannot remember the date, the Sussex regiment arrived.  They marched to Mumbles and Newton to the tune of Sussex by the Sea.  They arrived at Newton Church Hall where there was a whist drive going on run by my mother.  These ladies, much to their disgust, were ushered out of the hall, and from then on all Church and local activities were held in the two top rooms of Newton Church School, now converted to private houses.  My Mother also organised the ladies from the Church and the Mothers’ Union to buy wool to knit for the Mission to Seamen.  Their output was prolific, socks, jumpers, mittens, long sea boot stockings, balaclavas and so on.  Our front room was full of oily smelling wool. 

The Sussex manned the guns at the lighthouse and Mumbles Head and when they went off one knew there was a war on.  A causeway was built out to the lighthouse.  Sadly because of the tide there were some casualties. 

Then the American G.I.s arrived.  They lived in the Church Hall and the officers lived out at Summerland House.  The men marched down to Underhill Park for their meals every day to huts which they built and which were left for the use of football and cricket teams when they departed.  They flew the American flag on the cliffs overlooking Caswell Valley.  The valley provided perfect camouflage for their amphibious jeeps and tanks being prepared for D Day.  Apart from all their war equipment they had one secret weapon, nylons, chocolate and chewing gum, and to people starved of such things, it was heaven.  Daily they were besieged by children outside the hall and they were lovely with the children.  The locals used to have them in their homes for baths and usually a meal, which they used to call “Momma’s home cooking”.  They appreciated whatever folk did for them.  Dare I mention girls!!! 

Air raids became regular.  The siren would go off at night.  I and others would run down Newton Road to the British Legion Hall in pitch darkness only to arrive in time for the all clear, then back up to Newton for a couple of hours and off goes the siren again.  The planes came in from the sea and in our back garden in Newton we could see them drop their bombs over Swansea after lighting the place up with hundreds of incendiary bombs which caused many fires and damage.  Thank goodness for Mr. Anderson and his shelters, they did save lives,  The dreadful part was when one could hear the bombs hissing down, but where did they land?  Sometimes we could hear the planes and see them if the night was bright. 

Everyone used to go out to the shelter armed with blankets, thermos flasks and Uncle Tom Cobley but as time went on many remained in their beds and took a chance.  We loved our shelters, they became garden sheds, children would hide there from their mothers, and they were used for a bit of courting.  What girl could resist nylons and chewing gum and a dance in the British Legion or Church Hall with a handsome look alike film star. 

The big day came out of the blue for Newton with one unexpected evening raid.  I think it was a badly navigated attack meant for Swansea.  They dropped starting at Murton, across Highpool, and the cemetery, and not quietly.  The doors of the Rock and Fountain blew out and drinkers came flooding out with pints in their hands.  Some fled down the village.  Some it is stated ran a good Olympic race still with their pints and arrived in Murton through the old Murton Lanes.  My mother was again running a whist drive in the school rooms.  A.R.P. wardens helped them.  My mother had the takings in a tin box and raid or no raid she was coming home with the church money.  Several people tried to stop her in Nottage Road but I do not think she realised what had happened.  I still have that money box.  People were very frightened.  Although used to air raids, this was too near home.  Fortunately no-one was hurt but houses were damaged and windows broken and there were big holes in the ground.  My father had a love for goldfish and he obtained three large glass containers used in those days for holding acid.  They could be picked up in scrap yards.  He arranged them in the garden containing the goldfish and they were very attractive.  They were our only casualties, completely shattered, and the lawn full of goldfish.  How lucky can one get when you consider all the terrible raids all over Britain and Europe. 

After the heavy raids on Swansea, people came down to Mumbles and Newton.  They walked with their belongings along Mumbles Road and everyone was kind to them.  They came to the huts in Caswell Valley and to the summer huts of locals in Millands field.  There was great kindness, where has it gone!  Many stayed and became integrated in Newton life and Newton was the better for it. 

Eventually things started to get better in certain areas.  Troops disappeared overnight on their journey to D Day, no more air raids and a little more food. 

When the end of the war came it was a mixture of great joy and sadness.  They danced in Trafalgar Square, in the centre of Swansea and Mumbles and at street parties.  There was not much joy where fathers, brothers, husbands, sons and daughters did not return.                 

April 2014      

By now ships were getting mined in the channel and the injured would be brought to the British Legion Hall before going to hospitals, the very serious being taken went straight to Hospital. We had dedicated Doctors on hand, who never seemed to sleep—Dr. Marks, Dr. Kyle, Dr Lloyd Jones and so on.

               Now a subtle change was coming over. All our young men were in uniform, only coming home on leave, although many were being sent a long way from Mumbles, with the sadness of not being able to return home.

                Fairwood was a very active Aerodrome, full of personal Pilots, Air Crews W.A.A.F's, and all types of Aircraft, which |it was possible to count going out and coming back in, which could be very sad. Fairwood ended up with those huge Flying Fortress.

 More: Wartime Memories by Betty Sivertsen >

Second World War 1939 to 1945