Mrs Madge Malthouse, of Bilton Lane, Harrogate, reminiscing about WW2 :
The week before war was declared a gipsy told my mother -There'll be no war. The planets are high".
The planets must have descended pretty rapidly, because the following Sunday, Harrogate teachers, of which I was one, were requested to attend in the Council Chamber of the Municipal Offices in Crescent Gardens, to hear Neville Chamberlain, in his gentle voice, make his wireless announcement that "we are at war with Germany."
The teachers were told that sections of the Civil Service would be evacuated to Harrogate even, possibly the Cabinet!
So we were asked to pair off, each pair being given a list of streets, roads, avenues etc, and sent to canvass the houses for details of accommodation available.
It was a pleasant task; the day was warm and sunny, and my colleague and I, being in the Oval and Otley Road area, were, without exception, received well at each house we visited.
I remember especially being shown large, spotless, whitewashed cellars, sometimes four under each house, as well as the available bedroom accommodation. Afterwards it was home for tea to my family.
We didn't know that Hitler was not interested — for the moment — in Great Britain as he was too busy attacking Poland.
A walk on the bridle-path at Ripley under the glorious beeches, (all blown down later in a hurricane) then home to bed at about 11pm.
We were very apprehensive, especially as the air-raid warning had just sounded, soon to be followed by the all-clear. We found out later on that it was a false alarm, however it was very frightening at the time.
We had made some amateurish preparations for an air-raid, not knowing what might happen.
Of that day, what sticks out most in my mind was a curious incident; down the road in the darkness came the clip-clop of two horses, just distinguishable by their white coats.
They had found their way out of a nearby field, but their ghostly appearance and unexpected hoofsteps were very eerie.
As the horses passed our house, so by the dimmed light of a street lamp, we saw a young bus-conductress, going home, at midnight, quite unconcerned, swinging her leather bag....Quite a day.
[ HA - 1 September 1989 ]