Authors: Sean Longden
‘There is no doubt that the great mass of young people are anxious to have the opportunity to help the national war effort.’
Interdepartmental Conference on Training for Boys, November 1941
1
Almost as soon as the Blitz commenced, the nation’s youth were active in defying the enemy. The common public perception of children sitting inside the safety of shelters or as evacuees out in the countryside belies the true contribution of large numbers of youths who played an essential role in saving lives, preserving morale and keeping the country running. When the story of the children’s contribution to the war effort is told, the focus is normally on wastepaper collection, salvage of scrap metal and efforts to help their parents grow vegetables. Though these were all vital activities, there were plenty of youngsters whose role was far more active – and dangerous.
Even before war was declared, there were youths all over Britain who were preparing to do their duty. Many Boy Scout troops were integrated into ARP units to offer their services as messengers and lookouts. Girl Guides had assisted in the distribution and fitting of gas masks, showing children how to ensure the seal fitted correctly. They stepped up first-aid training, ready to assist in the aftermath of raids. The instructions they received were both graphic and gruesome, illustrating how to deal with the seriously wounded. The Guides also offered their equipment for ARP use, converting canvas latrine cubicles into gas decontamination facilities. Losing their latrines didn’t
matter, once war started many of the Guides’ tents were requisitioned by the Army, so there were few opportunities for camping.
One month after the declaration of war, the government decreed that children under sixteen should not be allowed to serve in ARP posts. This did not curtail the activities of Scouts who continued to assist by helping families to erect air raid shelters. Nor did it stop girls like Patricia Knowlden of West Wickham in Kent. She had actively assisted the ARP since 1938 when she helped her father distribute leaflets. By 1941, aged fourteen and still too young to join the ARP, she sat – and passed – the ARP warden’s examination. In 1944, when she reached her seventeenth birthday, she was finally officially able to commence civil defence work. In Swansea, teenage ARP volunteers were even shown how to use petrol bombs, in case they became the last line of defence against invasion.
In the east London borough of Stepney, local teenager Sidney Ties began preparing for war almost as soon as he left school in 1937. Born and bred in the area, Sidney had attended a local school where the limited curriculum left him with few opportunities. However, deep down he harboured a dream:
I really would have liked to be a surgeon. But it wasn’t possible since I had no education at all. My school was awful. You got hit for even moving in the classroom. I didn’t learn anything and it was not a happy time. It was difficult for people who had potential – you never got a chance to fulfil it. My father was a market trader, selling curtains and things from a stall near Elephant and Castle.
Despite knowing the dream was impossible, Sidney Ties was determined to maintain his interest in medical matters.
Whilst his background offered no openings in the medical profession, Sidney retained an enthusiasm that determined his immediate future. After joining the Boy Scouts as a twelve year old, he had learned first aid, earned his first-aid badges and become his troop’s first-aider: ‘I soon got beyond that and went to a London County Council [LCC] night school where I studied first aid. By the time I was about fifteen I was doing advanced first aid.’ Having learned to treat cuts, bandage wounds, stem bleeding and fit splints, he soon possessed skills that were
expected to be in great demand if and when war came. As part of his training he even attended a local hospital where he joined groups of trainee doctors, watching surgery and getting used to the sight of serious wounds. In the final months before war broke out he was even asked by the LCC to offer instruction in first aid: ‘I was sent to see the taxi drivers to train them in giving first aid because a lot of them became auxiliary firemen. Can you imagine a fifteen year old giving lessons to a taxi driver? I was showing them how to stem bleeding and so on.’
Though he had no practical experience of treating serious wounds, he was considered a vital part of the local emergency services:
I was sixteen years old. On the day war was declared I was just told by LCC, ‘Go to the hospital and see what you can do.’ The local children’s hospital that had been closed down and evacuated. I was on duty with one nurse and three girls. The sirens went off and I went up to the roof with my helmet on, with my gas mask, carrying a stretcher and my first-aid kit. I was expecting the worst. Thank God nothing happened because we weren’t ready.
The local medical services were far from ready to deal with what would come in the years ahead, but the enthusiasm of youngsters like Sidney Ties was a sure sign that there were many in the country ready for whatever challenge might arise.
Whilst youths like Sidney prepared for war, others found themselves co-opted in working in civil defence. In late 1939, thirteen-year-old Roy Finch was out cycling with a friend when he was ‘volunteered’ for service. He was of the age group that felt too old for evacuation, yet were too young to leave school. However, with all the schools in the area closed, Roy found his days were somewhat leisurely. As they cycled past their closed school, Roy looked across at their former classrooms: ‘Look, it’s all been sandbagged!’ The boys noticed there was plenty of activity going on:
There was an ARP post with a copper outside. He called us over. We said, ‘But we haven’t done anything!’ He said, ‘You’ve got bikes and we’re looking for messenger boys. Come on in.’ So we went inside and the wardens told us what they wanted us to do.
For Roy Finch this seemed like a golden opportunity to get involved in the war effort. He had already been a member of the local Army Cadet Force, his local unit running a junior group that included boys too young to join the main force. He had even won the award for best-dressed cadet, which he thought was due to his father showing him the correct way to tie his puttees. However, his new role as an ARP messenger did not include a uniform:
We had a whistle and a bicycle and we had to pedal around the area, blowing the whistle and shouting, ‘Air raid warning! Take cover!’ Everyone thought we were bloody ridiculous. But we thought we were great. We had a proper tin hat and a gas mask. Then we’d cycle back to the warden’s post and wait in a classroom until we had to go out again.
It was an interesting role for the boys, who felt they were making a genuine contribution to the war effort. They were not alone: all over the country, children volunteered their services to the ARP. Scouts and Guides acted as ‘spotters’, scanning the sky for bombers then looking out for fires that started in the aftermath of raids. Some boys even established their own informal ‘Junior ARP’ posts, establishing lookout posts, constructing HQs and erecting signs highlighting their role. With homemade armbands and ‘tin helmets’ purchased from local shops, they prepared themselves for war. Some schools also established ARP, fire-watching and observation posts, with children going on the roofs to watch for enemy aircraft. Using signal flags they were able to relay information to messengers who could in turn pass it on to the ARP. All across the country, Boy Scouts, Girl Guides and members of the Boys Brigade made sure their first-aid kits were filled and ready to assist with the expected casualties bombing would bring.
One of the earliest targets was the outer London suburb of Croydon, chosen by the Germans because of its airport. As was later discovered the Germans’ method for locating the airfield was simple: they were guided by Luftwaffe pilots who knew their way from their pre-war careers as commercial pilots who had landed at Croydon Airport. On 16 August 1940 the Luftwaffe bombed Croydon. However, in nearby Norbury, Roy Finch’s ARP career got off to an inauspicious start: he was at home when he first heard the sound of aerial attack. It was only
after the sound of explosions and machine-gun fire had faded, and the drone of the attacker’s engines had long passed, that he actually heard the wail of the siren to warn of a raid.
In those few minutes, bombs had hit the airfield, some houses and the factories nearby, causing many casualties among workers who were rushed to hospital. With hospital staff unable to cope with both treating the wounded and carrying out ARP duties, they needed a source of labour. To meet the shortfall local Boy Scout troops volunteered their services. In the late 1930s many Scout troops had assisted in civil defence exercises, often playing the role of the injured, allowing the emergency services to hone their rescue skills. Now, in the hour of need, the Scouts made practical use of their experience. In Croydon, Boy Scouts over the age of fourteen were asked to volunteer to assist at the hospitals, a duty they continued throughout the Blitz. The boys became stretcher-bearers, fire-watchers, telephonists and messengers. They were given steel helmets and trained in fire-fighting, learning how to operate the stirrup-pumps, fire hoses and hydrants. Those over sixteen were stationed on a tower above the hospital to act as observers, watching for the fall of incendiary bombs. Others waited at the hospital with their bicycles, ready to act as messengers. When seriously injured people arrived at hospital, the messengers were sent out – ignoring the falling bombs and the shrapnel of the anti-aircraft guns – to notify next of kin.
In addition to the Boy Scouts, the Croydon hospitals also had assistance from other teenagers. The local Red Cross and St John Ambulance had formed three teams of girls aged between fifteen and eighteen. Many of these volunteered to work in the hospitals or at the blood transfusion service. Assistance was also provided by the teenage boys of the Air Defence Cadet Corps, an organization set up in 1937 to train boys keen to join the RAF. They volunteered to assist at hospitals by filling some 600 sandbags used to protect the casualty department.
The dedication of the Scouts meant that they also assisted with the unloading of ambulances, helping to move the injured into the wards and operating theatres. They helped doctors by pointing out wounds. One fourteen year old later reported that he had to take an amputated leg for incineration. When not dealing with the badly wounded, the
Scouts helped to move patients to places of safety: one of their duties included carrying newborn babies down to the air raid shelters. Their efforts were recognized when the town council gave them a commendation in a special resolution to acknowledge their bravery and energy during the bombing. Croydon’s Scouts were also recognized by the scouting authorities. The Scout’s Gilt Cross medal was awarded to Eric Martin and the Certificate of Gallantry was won by John Dyne and Peter Standen. All were recognized for their work at Croydon Town Hall when it was bombed.
These raids were just a taste of what lay ahead. Even light bombing brought casualties rushing into hospitals for treatment, straining the emergency services. Once the raids grew heavier, so too did the need for all available medical assistance. When the sirens sounded in London on 7 September 1940, sixteen-year-old Sidney Ties led his mother, grandmother and two aunts from their home in Jamaica Street to the safety of the street’s brick-built shelter. So far, after a year of war, his contribution to the war effort had been to continue training, giving instruction and setting up an aid post in the basement of the dental technicians where he worked. As they made their way along the street, Sidney made sure he had his small first-aid satchel slung from his shoulder. After four years of training, this would be his chance to prove that all those evening classes had not been wasted.
Sitting in the shelter, he could hear the whine of bombs, the banging of the anti-aircraft guns, the crash of explosions and the ringing bells of ambulances and fire engines. Some 250 enemy bombers flew over London that night. Though Sidney was unable to see what was happening outside, it was clear that the full fury of war was being unleashed:
War started for me when they hit the docks. It really was tough. But when you’re sixteen you just get on with it. You don’t think about it. We just sat there listening to the banging of the bombs and then when the ‘all clear’ went, I went outside and helped.
As he made his way outside he noticed that the street was sticky with a greasy yellow liquid. He looked down and realized it was melted butter that was running out from a nearby bombed warehouse: ‘I had no official duties. I had no Red Cross armband or anything. I was
straight out into my street. My first patients were people in the next street. I did whatever I could.’
Everywhere he looked there seemed to be buildings burning and firemen attempting to quench the flames. The sky was lit up with a red and yellow glow from countless warehouse fires: ‘The air was full of smoke and dust. It was murder. The fires raging. The docks were alight. The glow lit up the sky.’ And yet Sidney Ties did not stop to marvel at the scenes, instead he did all he could to help the injured:
I wasn’t affected by the horror and didn’t find it difficult to cope. I had already got an idea of blood and open wounds from observing at the hospital. But there was not much I could do with my small first-aid kit. But I did help by digging people out – this was in my own streets.
That first night was a taste for what was to come. As the raids continued, Sidney made sure he took his first-aid kit with him to the shelter and did all he could to help. He soon grew used to the sights, sounds and smells of a city being pounded with high explosive and showered with incendiary bombs:
When you go into a bombed area, the first thing you notice is that everything is white. There is dust everywhere. You are looking through all this dust on the person’s body before you can even work out where they are hurt. They were so covered in white dust, you could hardly tell if they were alive or dead.