Stourton Caundle
The Home Guard
As recorded by Home Guard member Frank Palmer
The Local Defence Volunteer Unit was an anti-invasion force and it came into being soon after the fall of France. We were all issued with an armband, to show that we had enrolled as members of the Local Defence Volunteers. We did little at first, apart from attending lectures in the village hall and taking an occasional turn at keeping a lookout for German parachutists during the hours of darkness We used to patrol the high ground at Holt Lane on a rota basis, two of us from 10 pm till 2am and another pair would arrive to take over until 6 o’clock in the morning.
These were desperate times and we were often told that we should arm ourselves by making our own weapons. For example, it was once suggested that a sharp knife on the end of a pole would come in handy as a make do pike. Some were able to arm themselves with their own shotguns. Then came a day when we were given the order to report for a fitting of our army uniforms in the village hall. I remember it mostly for my having arrived rather late and that there was little left from which I could pick. My denim trousers were far too big but I was told that I would have to manage with these until we were next in line for an issue of army battledress. I even had to pack my boots with cardboard. The only items that seemed to be fit for purpose were my leather spats and forage cap.
Army manoeuvres were now taking place on a large scale, and with an ever-increasing frequency, over much of the countryside and locally on Lydlinch Common. The army vehicles used to leave the road covered in mud and it was my job to clean up the mess at every given opportunity. I was engaged on this task when a spotter plane hit the top of a tree, crashed to the ground and burst into flames at the roadside on Lydlinch Common. It was a horrific moment and something I have never forgotten.
We had constructed a shelter in the garden of Hayes Cottage in the event of an air raid. It was nothing more than a hole in the ground covered over with two sheets of galvanized iron. My stepmother was adamant in her refusal to go into the shelter. Sitting in a cupboard under the stairs was more to her liking, whether it was German bombers or thunder and lightning.
On May 16th, 1940 an evening football match was arranged between Stourton Caundle and a team of Scottish soldiers, on a hastily marked out pitch in Messlem Field. The soldiers came by lorry to the Trooper Inn, changed into their blue and white kit and then marched with military precision to the field. I enjoyed every minute of my being a stopgap goalkeeper for our side. I had some unbelievable luck saving every shot at goal. There was only one spot of trouble when a soldier threatened to put our full back “Gunner Lake” in hospital after Gunner had flattened him in the penalty area. I remember little of how I managed to save the resultant penalty, only that I was almost knocked out by the force of the shot.
Highland dancing took place outside the Trooper Inn after the match and I doubt if the locals had ever seen anything like it before. These soldiers were wearing full Scottish dress and they danced to the accompaniment of drums and bagpipes. The soldiers were stationed at Crendle Court, near Milborne Port. The return fixture was cancelled at short notice as they were due for embarkation to France, where sadly, a number of them were to perish before, and during, the retreat to the beaches at Dunkirk.
In June 1940 all of the road direction signs were removed and buried deep beneath the ground at various locations throughout the district. Four sets of “tank traps” were installed on the approach roads into Sturminster Newton. This task was given the utmost priority over any another job of work. Barriers could be slotted into position at short notice and were large enough of an obstacle to stop a military tank. An underground shelter had been constructed into the sloping land at the front of the Roads and Bridges depot, located opposite the Bull Inn and it was here that the council’s employees took a turn on night duty. Road stone was held in reserve at various sites and was used after a bomb had blasted a hole in a narrow lane at Crate Hill, Fifehead Neville. Much more stone was needed after an exploding landmine had left a huge crater in the road at Holebrook Lane, Lydlinch.
Following the fall of Dunkirk, and with the imminent threat of invasion, the Secretary of State for War Sir Anthony Eden announced in a wireless broadcast on the 14th of May 1940, the proposed formation of a Citizens Army, to be known as the Local Defence Volunteers. He asked for men between the ages of seventeen and sixty-five, who were willing to join, to report to their local police station. Men of all ages and backgrounds, who were not eligible for call up volunteered. During the next few weeks officers were appointed, and local platoons were formed. In the July of 1940 Winston Churchill announced a change of name, to the more professional sounding Home Guard. In the early days there was no equipment or uniforms, other than armbands displaying the letters L.V.D. Later that year denim battle dress was provided, and was worn over everyday clothing. Eventually proper army battle dress was provided, with black boots, leather gaiters, belt greatcoats, haversacks, gas masks and helmets. At the start volunteers were asked to provide whatever weapons they had of their own. An assortment of old rifles, farmer’s shotguns,
antiquated swords and knives were used, and as a last resort pick axes and pitchforks. Lee Enfield rifles and Lewis Guns later replaced these weapons. The volunteers from Stourton Caundle formed part of the Lydlinch Platoon. During the autumn of 1939 army manoeuvres took place at Lydlinch Common, air raid shelters were also constructed in the gardens of local houses and cottages. These were often little more than a hole in the ground, covered by sheets of corrugated iron.
I was awakened by a loud knocking on the door of our home Hays Cottage during the night of September 7th 1940. A youth called out to say that we were all being put on an emergency stand-by until daylight, then he was gone without saying another word. I hurriedly dressed, went outside and then ran down the road to join those who had already gathered near the Trooper Inn. We were not told anything but had guessed that it might have had something to do with an anticipated invasion. The night was spent either telling of each other’s stories or just milling around in circles to keep warm.
Rumours were rife after this invasion scare and I remember hearing that our forces had sprayed oil on the sea and then created a wall of fire by setting it alight. We were also to hear reports of burned German bodies being washed up along the south coast. The following is an explanation of what actually happened. On the night of September 7th the codeword “Cromwell”, meaning “Invasion imminent”, was issued, putting both the army’s Eastern and Southern Commands on Number One Alert. There was never any invasion attempt by the Germans. The bodies washed up on our shores were those of Germans bombed by the RAF in French ports and swept across the English Channel by the tide.
Many changes were made following the invasion scare. The Local Volunteer Defence Force became the Home Guard and we were now taking it in turns to patrol the road junction at the top end of Cat Lane, near Brussels Knapp Farm. We were also issued with three rifles and a few rounds of ammunition to share between us while on guard duty. The decision was taken to use our cricket pavilion as a guardroom and to relocate it from the cricket field, at the rear of Veale’s Cottage, to a site in a corner of the field at the junction of Cat Lane, at Brussels Knapp. A dugout was excavated in the grass verge at the same time. A derelict thatched cottage at Goldsneys was requisitioned for use as our headquarters. We were issued with a .22 rifle and would occasionally go to the rifle range located in an orchard at the rear of Barrow Hill Farm for target practice. A small Nissan hut was constructed at the bottom end of the orchard for an ammunition store. There was a gradual tightening up of military discipline in the Home Guard and service became compulsory.
As recorded by Home Guard member Frank Palmer
The Local Defence Volunteer Unit was an anti-invasion force and it came into being soon after the fall of France. We were all issued with an armband, to show that we had enrolled as members of the Local Defence Volunteers. We did little at first, apart from attending lectures in the village hall and taking an occasional turn at keeping a lookout for German parachutists during the hours of darkness We used to patrol the high ground at Holt Lane on a rota basis, two of us from 10 pm till 2am and another pair would arrive to take over until 6 o’clock in the morning.
These were desperate times and we were often told that we should arm ourselves by making our own weapons. For example, it was once suggested that a sharp knife on the end of a pole would come in handy as a make do pike. Some were able to arm themselves with their own shotguns. Then came a day when we were given the order to report for a fitting of our army uniforms in the village hall. I remember it mostly for my having arrived rather late and that there was little left from which I could pick. My denim trousers were far too big but I was told that I would have to manage with these until we were next in line for an issue of army battledress. I even had to pack my boots with cardboard. The only items that seemed to be fit for purpose were my leather spats and forage cap.
Army manoeuvres were now taking place on a large scale, and with an ever-increasing frequency, over much of the countryside and locally on Lydlinch Common. The army vehicles used to leave the road covered in mud and it was my job to clean up the mess at every given opportunity. I was engaged on this task when a spotter plane hit the top of a tree, crashed to the ground and burst into flames at the roadside on Lydlinch Common. It was a horrific moment and something I have never forgotten.
We had constructed a shelter in the garden of Hayes Cottage in the event of an air raid. It was nothing more than a hole in the ground covered over with two sheets of galvanized iron. My stepmother was adamant in her refusal to go into the shelter. Sitting in a cupboard under the stairs was more to her liking, whether it was German bombers or thunder and lightning.
On May 16th, 1940 an evening football match was arranged between Stourton Caundle and a team of Scottish soldiers, on a hastily marked out pitch in Messlem Field. The soldiers came by lorry to the Trooper Inn, changed into their blue and white kit and then marched with military precision to the field. I enjoyed every minute of my being a stopgap goalkeeper for our side. I had some unbelievable luck saving every shot at goal. There was only one spot of trouble when a soldier threatened to put our full back “Gunner Lake” in hospital after Gunner had flattened him in the penalty area. I remember little of how I managed to save the resultant penalty, only that I was almost knocked out by the force of the shot.
Highland dancing took place outside the Trooper Inn after the match and I doubt if the locals had ever seen anything like it before. These soldiers were wearing full Scottish dress and they danced to the accompaniment of drums and bagpipes. The soldiers were stationed at Crendle Court, near Milborne Port. The return fixture was cancelled at short notice as they were due for embarkation to France, where sadly, a number of them were to perish before, and during, the retreat to the beaches at Dunkirk.
In June 1940 all of the road direction signs were removed and buried deep beneath the ground at various locations throughout the district. Four sets of “tank traps” were installed on the approach roads into Sturminster Newton. This task was given the utmost priority over any another job of work. Barriers could be slotted into position at short notice and were large enough of an obstacle to stop a military tank. An underground shelter had been constructed into the sloping land at the front of the Roads and Bridges depot, located opposite the Bull Inn and it was here that the council’s employees took a turn on night duty. Road stone was held in reserve at various sites and was used after a bomb had blasted a hole in a narrow lane at Crate Hill, Fifehead Neville. Much more stone was needed after an exploding landmine had left a huge crater in the road at Holebrook Lane, Lydlinch.
Following the fall of Dunkirk, and with the imminent threat of invasion, the Secretary of State for War Sir Anthony Eden announced in a wireless broadcast on the 14th of May 1940, the proposed formation of a Citizens Army, to be known as the Local Defence Volunteers. He asked for men between the ages of seventeen and sixty-five, who were willing to join, to report to their local police station. Men of all ages and backgrounds, who were not eligible for call up volunteered. During the next few weeks officers were appointed, and local platoons were formed. In the July of 1940 Winston Churchill announced a change of name, to the more professional sounding Home Guard. In the early days there was no equipment or uniforms, other than armbands displaying the letters L.V.D. Later that year denim battle dress was provided, and was worn over everyday clothing. Eventually proper army battle dress was provided, with black boots, leather gaiters, belt greatcoats, haversacks, gas masks and helmets. At the start volunteers were asked to provide whatever weapons they had of their own. An assortment of old rifles, farmer’s shotguns,
antiquated swords and knives were used, and as a last resort pick axes and pitchforks. Lee Enfield rifles and Lewis Guns later replaced these weapons. The volunteers from Stourton Caundle formed part of the Lydlinch Platoon. During the autumn of 1939 army manoeuvres took place at Lydlinch Common, air raid shelters were also constructed in the gardens of local houses and cottages. These were often little more than a hole in the ground, covered by sheets of corrugated iron.
I was awakened by a loud knocking on the door of our home Hays Cottage during the night of September 7th 1940. A youth called out to say that we were all being put on an emergency stand-by until daylight, then he was gone without saying another word. I hurriedly dressed, went outside and then ran down the road to join those who had already gathered near the Trooper Inn. We were not told anything but had guessed that it might have had something to do with an anticipated invasion. The night was spent either telling of each other’s stories or just milling around in circles to keep warm.
Rumours were rife after this invasion scare and I remember hearing that our forces had sprayed oil on the sea and then created a wall of fire by setting it alight. We were also to hear reports of burned German bodies being washed up along the south coast. The following is an explanation of what actually happened. On the night of September 7th the codeword “Cromwell”, meaning “Invasion imminent”, was issued, putting both the army’s Eastern and Southern Commands on Number One Alert. There was never any invasion attempt by the Germans. The bodies washed up on our shores were those of Germans bombed by the RAF in French ports and swept across the English Channel by the tide.
Many changes were made following the invasion scare. The Local Volunteer Defence Force became the Home Guard and we were now taking it in turns to patrol the road junction at the top end of Cat Lane, near Brussels Knapp Farm. We were also issued with three rifles and a few rounds of ammunition to share between us while on guard duty. The decision was taken to use our cricket pavilion as a guardroom and to relocate it from the cricket field, at the rear of Veale’s Cottage, to a site in a corner of the field at the junction of Cat Lane, at Brussels Knapp. A dugout was excavated in the grass verge at the same time. A derelict thatched cottage at Goldsneys was requisitioned for use as our headquarters. We were issued with a .22 rifle and would occasionally go to the rifle range located in an orchard at the rear of Barrow Hill Farm for target practice. A small Nissan hut was constructed at the bottom end of the orchard for an ammunition store. There was a gradual tightening up of military discipline in the Home Guard and service became compulsory.
Back row left to right- Charlie Dennett, Dick Winter, Frank Hollex, Dennis Jeans, Eddy Bond, Frank Palmer, Sonny Bealing, George Lane.
Middle row- Albert Bealing, Roy Brown, George Brown, Leslie Woods, Joe Walden, Len Lake, Jack Watson, Alex Smith.
Front row- Billy Bugg, Charlie Lake, Cecil Orchard, The Sergant, George Furnell, Bob Green, Jack Pye, Jim Gray.
Middle row- Albert Bealing, Roy Brown, George Brown, Leslie Woods, Joe Walden, Len Lake, Jack Watson, Alex Smith.
Front row- Billy Bugg, Charlie Lake, Cecil Orchard, The Sergant, George Furnell, Bob Green, Jack Pye, Jim Gray.
We were taken by lorry one Sunday to Bovington Camp and shown a collection of German and Italian tanks in the museum, presumably a crash course on identification. We were taught a variety of ways in which a military tank could be knocked out, one of which was to go running up alongside an enemy tank and then to smack a “sticky-bomb” into position near its metal tracks. We tossed hand grenades over the top, from within the quarry at Garvey. One failed to explode and had to be blown up with a small amount of plastic explosive material. A member of our squad was scared stiff and had dropped a grenade in his fright. We were more than a little fortunate in that he had not pulled out the safety pin. We did a route march in full kit on a hot summer’s day resulting in many grumbles of discontent, much sweating by all and some with blisters on their feet. We fired our .505 rifles for the first time on a recently constructed range at Okeford Hill. I was chosen to be one of four who did the marking down of scores in the butts for much of the morning. Some could not shoot for toffees and we would hear their bullets either thudding into a mound of earth or go whining past overhead. Several had failed to register a hit and so an old soldier in our party had helped them out by poking a few holes through a target with his pencil. He knew all the tricks and was as artful as a monkey.
There was a Rifle Meeting on the range at Oborne. Many hundreds of men were there from the 4th Battalion on a long tiring Sunday. I was the only member of the Lydlinch Platoon to win a prize and it had given me a feeling of great satisfaction. I attended a follow up event at the same venue arranged to select those who would be going to a tournament somewhere in Sussex. I lost out by one point and was bitterly disappointed.
A night training exercise was arranged to take place in Stock Gaylard Park, a battle-craft test between our platoon and a rather secret unit of the Home Guard. We had been ordered to try and stop them from getting through our defensive positions around both the large garden and several outbuildings at Stock House. Many of them were to fail and give themselves up before the night was out, probably to get under cover after hours of teeming rain.
The next exercise for Lydlinch Platoon of the Home Guard took place on Lydlinch Common against a Commando unit. We went there early in the evening and prepared their arrival at around midnight. I had been quick to realize what might happen and had used many leafy branches in an effort to camouflage my chosen position for the heavy machine gun. The officer in charge had then told us all to take things easy until hearing a loud blast on his whistle.
We did not have to wait long before getting the signal that a lorry was travelling at high speed in our direction. The vehicle was then brought to a juddering halt, after a member of our group threw a thunder-flash under it. He was hidden from view near the roadside. Commando after Commando could be seen jumping over the tailboard, all emitting a blood-curdling cry when setting forth to flush us out. One youth had fled in terror and I could hear him shouting out to his pursuer: “No bloody nonsense. No bloody nonsense. No bloody nonsense.” Our place of concealment had remained undiscovered through the evening and my colleague and I were both trying to stop ourselves from laughing aloud while watching the action as it unfolding before our eyes.
The Stourton Caundle Section of the Lydlinch Platoon was summoned to undertake night duty at Sturminster Newton. We were taken by lorry to an old house in Bath Road, and then given our orders for the night by the Officer in command of the 5th Platoon. We were told to stay fully clothed and to get some rest. There was much rowdy behaviour, by a few of the younger members, and sleep had been nigh impossible for most of us in the room. Some of these youths were wrestling on the floor with live grenades in their shoulder pouches. We were not in any danger however, as I had taken the precautionary measure of bending the safety pins, whilst engaged on the task of priming the grenades with fuses on the previous night. The phone rang at about two o‘clock in the morning. Our Lieutenant received a message giving him a reference number on the map. The location as soon identified as Honeymead Lane. He then gave orders to get there as quickly as possible by lorry. It was decided that we should split up into two groups on our arrival. One to walk the hedgerows and the other stay on guard at the entrance to the lane. Everything went according to plan, until the silence came to an abrupt end with loud laughter, after one our younger members broke wind. Two high- ranking officers of the Home Guard had observed our every move, although we were not aware of it at the time. But they sure did tear us off a strip afterwards, especially about the laughing and also for the noisy way in which we had clambered down from out of the lorry. There were many soldiers stationed in the area and it soon became the norm for the Home Guard to take over at night, if these regular troops had moved out, or were going on military manoeuvres.
Village men of all age groups had volunteered to learn the correct way to deal with incendiary devices, dropped from enemy aircraft. They were known as ‘Fire-watchers’. Mr Harry Holdway, who lived at Barrow Hill Farm, had been appointed Air Warden. At the height of the German bombing campaign, in 1940 and 1941, a unit consisting of three men would be on duty throughout the night. When a red alert was received, by telephone from military command, the wardens would sound the alert by blowing short blasts on their whistles, as they toured the village to warn the sleeping residents. After the all clear had been given, the exercise would be repeated, but this time giving long blasts on the whistles. During this period wave after wave of German bombers could be heard passing overhead, on their way to the industrial cities and ports, in the Midlands and north of the country.
There was a Rifle Meeting on the range at Oborne. Many hundreds of men were there from the 4th Battalion on a long tiring Sunday. I was the only member of the Lydlinch Platoon to win a prize and it had given me a feeling of great satisfaction. I attended a follow up event at the same venue arranged to select those who would be going to a tournament somewhere in Sussex. I lost out by one point and was bitterly disappointed.
A night training exercise was arranged to take place in Stock Gaylard Park, a battle-craft test between our platoon and a rather secret unit of the Home Guard. We had been ordered to try and stop them from getting through our defensive positions around both the large garden and several outbuildings at Stock House. Many of them were to fail and give themselves up before the night was out, probably to get under cover after hours of teeming rain.
The next exercise for Lydlinch Platoon of the Home Guard took place on Lydlinch Common against a Commando unit. We went there early in the evening and prepared their arrival at around midnight. I had been quick to realize what might happen and had used many leafy branches in an effort to camouflage my chosen position for the heavy machine gun. The officer in charge had then told us all to take things easy until hearing a loud blast on his whistle.
We did not have to wait long before getting the signal that a lorry was travelling at high speed in our direction. The vehicle was then brought to a juddering halt, after a member of our group threw a thunder-flash under it. He was hidden from view near the roadside. Commando after Commando could be seen jumping over the tailboard, all emitting a blood-curdling cry when setting forth to flush us out. One youth had fled in terror and I could hear him shouting out to his pursuer: “No bloody nonsense. No bloody nonsense. No bloody nonsense.” Our place of concealment had remained undiscovered through the evening and my colleague and I were both trying to stop ourselves from laughing aloud while watching the action as it unfolding before our eyes.
The Stourton Caundle Section of the Lydlinch Platoon was summoned to undertake night duty at Sturminster Newton. We were taken by lorry to an old house in Bath Road, and then given our orders for the night by the Officer in command of the 5th Platoon. We were told to stay fully clothed and to get some rest. There was much rowdy behaviour, by a few of the younger members, and sleep had been nigh impossible for most of us in the room. Some of these youths were wrestling on the floor with live grenades in their shoulder pouches. We were not in any danger however, as I had taken the precautionary measure of bending the safety pins, whilst engaged on the task of priming the grenades with fuses on the previous night. The phone rang at about two o‘clock in the morning. Our Lieutenant received a message giving him a reference number on the map. The location as soon identified as Honeymead Lane. He then gave orders to get there as quickly as possible by lorry. It was decided that we should split up into two groups on our arrival. One to walk the hedgerows and the other stay on guard at the entrance to the lane. Everything went according to plan, until the silence came to an abrupt end with loud laughter, after one our younger members broke wind. Two high- ranking officers of the Home Guard had observed our every move, although we were not aware of it at the time. But they sure did tear us off a strip afterwards, especially about the laughing and also for the noisy way in which we had clambered down from out of the lorry. There were many soldiers stationed in the area and it soon became the norm for the Home Guard to take over at night, if these regular troops had moved out, or were going on military manoeuvres.
Village men of all age groups had volunteered to learn the correct way to deal with incendiary devices, dropped from enemy aircraft. They were known as ‘Fire-watchers’. Mr Harry Holdway, who lived at Barrow Hill Farm, had been appointed Air Warden. At the height of the German bombing campaign, in 1940 and 1941, a unit consisting of three men would be on duty throughout the night. When a red alert was received, by telephone from military command, the wardens would sound the alert by blowing short blasts on their whistles, as they toured the village to warn the sleeping residents. After the all clear had been given, the exercise would be repeated, but this time giving long blasts on the whistles. During this period wave after wave of German bombers could be heard passing overhead, on their way to the industrial cities and ports, in the Midlands and north of the country.
Home Guard Special Unit
Charlie Lake, George Harris, Frank Hollex, George Furnell, Bob Ashford, Vernon Caines
Charlie Lake, George Harris, Frank Hollex, George Furnell, Bob Ashford, Vernon Caines
Wave after wave of German bombers flew overhead and on such nights we would be on the go all night. Only but once did I actually hear a bomb come hurtling down from an enemy plane. I admit to having been very, very frightened at the time. After the explosion we had gone in search of the crater but could find nothing out of the ordinary in the nearby fields and lanes. We heard at daybreak that it had fallen in a field at Rowden Mill. A stick of about five bombs fell in a field at Brunsells Knapp. I came home from work the following evening and walked around the area with several other young men. We clambered over mounds of earth and down into craters at the spot where the bombs had fallen, penetrating deep into the ground. An officer from the Bomb Disposal Unit had duly arrived to carry out tests. I seem to recall that no trace was found of any unexploded bombs.
A search light battery operated by a small unit of regular soldiers was located at Rowden Mill Lane, in Brookhill field. When it was in operation, fingers of light could be seen criss-crossing the night skies above the village. In addition to the ‘fire-watchers’ there was also an Auxiliary Fire Crew. The Fire Engine was located in a garage at Drove Road, opposite the Old Vicarage. Members of the Fire Crew included Sam Harris and Jack Osmond.
Nineteen evacuees aged from five to nine years old arrived by train at Stalbridge station, during the early September of 1939. They were collected by volunteers, and transported to the Village Hut, where they were greeted by the billeting officer Miss Starr and provided with tea. Each child was then issued with a blanket, collected by their temporary guardians, and taken to their new homes. By the March of 1940, all but one boy of the first group to arrive in the village had returned to London. Henry Finch remained at the village primary school until 1942 and then transferred to Stalbridge High School. During the remainder of the war period, a number of other evacuees stayed in the village.
A line of bombs were dropped across a field at Brick Hill with the last one dropping down a disused well quite near to the pair of cottagers at Brick Hill. There was some structural damage but no casualties. Searchlights were dotted across the countryside the nearest being located at Rowden Mill Lane operated by a small detachment of regular soldiers. The beam from the searchlight lit up night skies above the village. Bullets were fired down a beam of light by the crew of a German bomber and on another occasion the crew were fired at by a ‘sneak’ German raider as it swept low over the field at the break of dawn.
September 30th 1940 I was trimming a hedge on the Kingstag side of Berry Lane at about four o’clock in the afternoon. A woman came from out of her house to ask if I had heard the sound of a loud explosion in the direction of Sherborne. I heard the roar of many aeroplane engines and had looked upwards into the sky to watch a formation of nine planes between a break in the clouds. I was told later that fifty Luftwaffe planes had dropped more than three hundred bombs over a wide area of Sherborne.
The following morning I travelled to Sherborne by lorry with a gang of my workmates from Division 5. We were told on our arrival that our first job of work would be to make good the damage caused by bombs to both the road and drains at Horsecastles. A huge crater had to be filled in and compacted by hand. Three of us were then given orders to join up with a gang of men from another district at Lenthay. The devastation appalled me, as the result of a direct hit on the cemetery, and was too horrified to give it anything more than a cursory glance. During our first week the town siren was heard and the man in charge had ordered us to take shelter in a nearby ditch, as a dogfight was taking place high up in the sky. I remained standing but did not feel quite so brave when some small objects began to whistle through the air thudding to the ground nearby. These were later identified as being spent cartridges from the machine guns of a Spitfire. I assisted with the removal of some kerb stones from out of the back bedroom of a house, most of which were undamaged, after having been hurled through the roof by the force of a massive explosion in the roadway outside. A work mate had tried to wash his hands clean afterwards, only to discover that he had dipped them into a sink where a baby’s dirty napkins had been left to soak overnight, as the water supply was still cut off.
In the October of 1943 I attended a training course held at the Barracks of the Dorsetshire Regiment at Dorchester from Friday night until the Sunday evening. We were a class of twelve, all of whom had volunteered in the hope of passing a test on our knowledge and skills at map reading and weaponry. I arrived by Jeep and was told to report to a Sergeant Shackle. I slept well on a top bunk in the barrack-room and on the Saturday morning had a breakfast of fried eggs and bacon. Sergeant Shackle lined us up for inspection and then marched us off to the lecture-room. He was astute with his questioning when enquiring as to our interests outside of work and gave us each an appropriate nickname before the morning was out. I was rather flattered to be called “the Musician”. In the afternoon we were given a short break and watched from a window as a squad of soldiers were being put through their paces on the square below. There was an officer on parade and we were somewhat confused as to why he waved his hand at us on a number of occasions. He then headed in our direction with a very purposeful stride. We did not know what why but made ourselves scarce in an area at the rear of the building. The Sergeant told us later that we could have been disciplined, as it was a breach of military regulations to stare from out of the windows, when drill was taking place on the square.
On Sunday we spent much of our time stripping down, and putting back together, all of the moving parts on several types of automatic weapons. We were expected to have satisfactory answers to many a searching question. I did quite well on the range, with .22 rifle, during the afternoon. We were to leave for home soon afterwards, probably wondering if we had done well enough to gain for ourselves a good report. I passed in the following subjects: General Knowledge, Rifle, 56 M Grenade, Sten Carbine, Browning Automatic, Battle Craft and Map Reading. I was rewarded with a second stripe and promoted to the rank of Corporal.
Following the D-Day invasion the Home Guard was no longer required. Demobilization took place on the 31st of December 1944. The final act was to parade to St Peters Church to take part in a service of thanksgiving. There was a small amount of cash in a Benevolent Fund. The money came from the organizing of a few whist drives and dances, raised to give a little financial assistance to anyone in our unit suffering an injury whilst on Home Guard duty. It was never required for this purpose and was used to provide the local children with a teaparty in the village hall. Our very last time together was a day out in Southampton with grandstand seats at the Dell to watch Southampton play Tottenham Hotspur.
A search light battery operated by a small unit of regular soldiers was located at Rowden Mill Lane, in Brookhill field. When it was in operation, fingers of light could be seen criss-crossing the night skies above the village. In addition to the ‘fire-watchers’ there was also an Auxiliary Fire Crew. The Fire Engine was located in a garage at Drove Road, opposite the Old Vicarage. Members of the Fire Crew included Sam Harris and Jack Osmond.
Nineteen evacuees aged from five to nine years old arrived by train at Stalbridge station, during the early September of 1939. They were collected by volunteers, and transported to the Village Hut, where they were greeted by the billeting officer Miss Starr and provided with tea. Each child was then issued with a blanket, collected by their temporary guardians, and taken to their new homes. By the March of 1940, all but one boy of the first group to arrive in the village had returned to London. Henry Finch remained at the village primary school until 1942 and then transferred to Stalbridge High School. During the remainder of the war period, a number of other evacuees stayed in the village.
A line of bombs were dropped across a field at Brick Hill with the last one dropping down a disused well quite near to the pair of cottagers at Brick Hill. There was some structural damage but no casualties. Searchlights were dotted across the countryside the nearest being located at Rowden Mill Lane operated by a small detachment of regular soldiers. The beam from the searchlight lit up night skies above the village. Bullets were fired down a beam of light by the crew of a German bomber and on another occasion the crew were fired at by a ‘sneak’ German raider as it swept low over the field at the break of dawn.
September 30th 1940 I was trimming a hedge on the Kingstag side of Berry Lane at about four o’clock in the afternoon. A woman came from out of her house to ask if I had heard the sound of a loud explosion in the direction of Sherborne. I heard the roar of many aeroplane engines and had looked upwards into the sky to watch a formation of nine planes between a break in the clouds. I was told later that fifty Luftwaffe planes had dropped more than three hundred bombs over a wide area of Sherborne.
The following morning I travelled to Sherborne by lorry with a gang of my workmates from Division 5. We were told on our arrival that our first job of work would be to make good the damage caused by bombs to both the road and drains at Horsecastles. A huge crater had to be filled in and compacted by hand. Three of us were then given orders to join up with a gang of men from another district at Lenthay. The devastation appalled me, as the result of a direct hit on the cemetery, and was too horrified to give it anything more than a cursory glance. During our first week the town siren was heard and the man in charge had ordered us to take shelter in a nearby ditch, as a dogfight was taking place high up in the sky. I remained standing but did not feel quite so brave when some small objects began to whistle through the air thudding to the ground nearby. These were later identified as being spent cartridges from the machine guns of a Spitfire. I assisted with the removal of some kerb stones from out of the back bedroom of a house, most of which were undamaged, after having been hurled through the roof by the force of a massive explosion in the roadway outside. A work mate had tried to wash his hands clean afterwards, only to discover that he had dipped them into a sink where a baby’s dirty napkins had been left to soak overnight, as the water supply was still cut off.
In the October of 1943 I attended a training course held at the Barracks of the Dorsetshire Regiment at Dorchester from Friday night until the Sunday evening. We were a class of twelve, all of whom had volunteered in the hope of passing a test on our knowledge and skills at map reading and weaponry. I arrived by Jeep and was told to report to a Sergeant Shackle. I slept well on a top bunk in the barrack-room and on the Saturday morning had a breakfast of fried eggs and bacon. Sergeant Shackle lined us up for inspection and then marched us off to the lecture-room. He was astute with his questioning when enquiring as to our interests outside of work and gave us each an appropriate nickname before the morning was out. I was rather flattered to be called “the Musician”. In the afternoon we were given a short break and watched from a window as a squad of soldiers were being put through their paces on the square below. There was an officer on parade and we were somewhat confused as to why he waved his hand at us on a number of occasions. He then headed in our direction with a very purposeful stride. We did not know what why but made ourselves scarce in an area at the rear of the building. The Sergeant told us later that we could have been disciplined, as it was a breach of military regulations to stare from out of the windows, when drill was taking place on the square.
On Sunday we spent much of our time stripping down, and putting back together, all of the moving parts on several types of automatic weapons. We were expected to have satisfactory answers to many a searching question. I did quite well on the range, with .22 rifle, during the afternoon. We were to leave for home soon afterwards, probably wondering if we had done well enough to gain for ourselves a good report. I passed in the following subjects: General Knowledge, Rifle, 56 M Grenade, Sten Carbine, Browning Automatic, Battle Craft and Map Reading. I was rewarded with a second stripe and promoted to the rank of Corporal.
Following the D-Day invasion the Home Guard was no longer required. Demobilization took place on the 31st of December 1944. The final act was to parade to St Peters Church to take part in a service of thanksgiving. There was a small amount of cash in a Benevolent Fund. The money came from the organizing of a few whist drives and dances, raised to give a little financial assistance to anyone in our unit suffering an injury whilst on Home Guard duty. It was never required for this purpose and was used to provide the local children with a teaparty in the village hall. Our very last time together was a day out in Southampton with grandstand seats at the Dell to watch Southampton play Tottenham Hotspur.
Demobilization Parade 1944
Air Raid precautions
Village men of all age groups had volunteered to learn the correct way to deal with incendiary devices dropped from enemy aircraft, and they were known as ‘Fire- Watchers’. Mr Harry Holdway who lived at Barrow Hill Farm had been appointed Air Warden. At the height of the German bombing campaign in 1940 and 1941, a unit consisting of three men would be on duty throughout the night. When a red alert was received by telephone from military command, the wardens would sound the alert by blowing short blasts on their whistles, as they toured the village to warn the sleeping residents.
After the all clear had been given, the exercise would be repeated, but this time giving long blasts on the whistles. During this period wave after wave of German bombers could be heard passing overhead, on their way to the industrial cities and ports, in the midlands and north of the country. The only bombs dropped locally, were a single bomb in a field at Rowden Mill Lane, and a stick of five bombs in a field at Brunsells Knapp. A line of bombs were also dropped at Brick Hill, the last one dropping down a disused well near the cottages, causing some minor structural damage, but there were no casualties. A search light battery operated by a small unit of regular soldiers, was located at Rowden Mill Lane, in Brookhill field, when it was in operation, fingers of light could be seen criss crossing the night skies above the village. In addition to the ‘Fire-Watchers’ there was also an Auxiliary Fire Crew, the Fire Engine was located in a garage at Drove Road, opposite the Old Vicarage. Members of the Fire Crew included Sam Harris and Jack Osmond.
Village men of all age groups had volunteered to learn the correct way to deal with incendiary devices dropped from enemy aircraft, and they were known as ‘Fire- Watchers’. Mr Harry Holdway who lived at Barrow Hill Farm had been appointed Air Warden. At the height of the German bombing campaign in 1940 and 1941, a unit consisting of three men would be on duty throughout the night. When a red alert was received by telephone from military command, the wardens would sound the alert by blowing short blasts on their whistles, as they toured the village to warn the sleeping residents.
After the all clear had been given, the exercise would be repeated, but this time giving long blasts on the whistles. During this period wave after wave of German bombers could be heard passing overhead, on their way to the industrial cities and ports, in the midlands and north of the country. The only bombs dropped locally, were a single bomb in a field at Rowden Mill Lane, and a stick of five bombs in a field at Brunsells Knapp. A line of bombs were also dropped at Brick Hill, the last one dropping down a disused well near the cottages, causing some minor structural damage, but there were no casualties. A search light battery operated by a small unit of regular soldiers, was located at Rowden Mill Lane, in Brookhill field, when it was in operation, fingers of light could be seen criss crossing the night skies above the village. In addition to the ‘Fire-Watchers’ there was also an Auxiliary Fire Crew, the Fire Engine was located in a garage at Drove Road, opposite the Old Vicarage. Members of the Fire Crew included Sam Harris and Jack Osmond.
Search Light Battery Operators at Rowden Mill Lane
