How Britain Kept Calm and Carried On (18 page)

After the ceremony, as the more informal type of wetting the baby’s head took place, the padre was asked why on earth he had neglected to name the baby ‘Iris’. After all, there
were expectations from an elderly aunt of that name.

The padre came straight to the point and said: ‘You are used to your surname, I don’t doubt. But I would have felt very sorry indeed for you, as the child’s parents, when she
grew up and got her own back on you for the leg-pulling she would undoubtedly have suffered at school with a name like “Iris Chew”.’

T. H. Gibbs-Murray, Greenwich

During a weekend break, I was staying at RAF Long Kesh, which later became the Maze prison. We stayed there while our ship was being repaired, after slight damage, in Belfast dockyards.

On the Saturday morning, five of us visited the YMCA and, it not yet being opening time in the pubs, we decided to visit the riding school we had seen advertised in the YMCA. It was in a posh
part of Belfast and, when we mounted our horses, folks came out into the street to see us. Almost every house had at least one person looking out from a window at the peculiar site of a bunch of
sailors in uniform, riding horses.

George Harris, Dudley

Leading Seaman Frank Wilson, known as ‘Tug’, put in his request to the ship’s captain for compassionate leave to visit his wife for the arrival of their first
child.

‘Negative!’ came the response. ‘Your presence was, no doubt absolutely essential at the laying of the keel, but not, repeat not, at the launching.’

T. H. Gibbs-Murray, Greenwich

My brother had quite a colourful war career. At one point he trained with the SAS. In Cyprus, his group raided an island and took a top-brass enemy officer, as well as the
driver of a big Mercedes, captive. They left with their targets and placed a note on the windscreen of the car: ‘Sorry, we have no use for the car.’

Gladys Lutterloch, Yeovil

My husband told a tale of the day he went for his medical, just after he joined up. He was very concerned because he would be facing a woman doctor. So he reluctantly lined up
with the others, all of whom, like he, were ‘starkers’. But that doctor cut through all the embarrassment when she asked: ‘Does someone’s mother use Persil?’ When my
husband looked around, he realized that his very naked, very white body was lined up between two strapping black men.

Mrs C. G. Atkins, Bourne, Buckinghamshire

My brother served in the Western Desert. He had been working on tank maintenance and was taking a break so that his comrade could take a photograph of him proudly showing off
his lovely new red beard. Suddenly an enemy aircraft was sighted and started to drop ‘eggs’ as he called them, and blasted off low-level cannon fire. They dived for cover under the
nearest vehicle, all of which were draped in camouflage netting to avoid enemy detection. When the plane was eventually chased off, they emerged only to discover that they had been sheltering under
an ammo truck.

Gladys Lutterloch, Yeovil

I was in the RAF and we were playing a football match at Uxbridge. I was taking a corner when suddenly there was this huge explosion. Everybody, including their goalkeeper,
threw themselves to the ground and the ball sailed straight into the empty net, or at least it must have done because when we all got up again, there it lay. The explosion hadn’t been caused
by enemy action but by the UXB boys detonating a landmine. I would claim that I scored the only landmine-assisted goal in the history of football, but the rotten referee made me take the corner
again.

Cardew Robinson, Twickenham St Margarets

I was on leave with my mate from the same town, and after we’d got off the train we decided to call into the nearest pub for a couple of pints before going home. The
landlord hadn’t even got time to pull our pints before the air-raid warning siren went off and everyone, including mine host, dashed out for the shelter, which was a public one in the street.
He didn’t even bother to lock up and we just sat there. Well, my mate looked at me, and I looked at him, and I think it crossed both our minds that we could lean over the bar and pull our own
beer. But we did the decent thing because we weren’t dishonest men. We just drank up everyone else’s beer that they’d left on the bar and various tables. Then we shot off. As a
matter of fact, there wasn’t a raid but I often wonder what those other customers must have thought when then they came back into the pub after the all-clear sounded, and found that all their
drinks had disappeared. Just empty glasses left. Needless to say that we didn’t use that pub again. Also needless to say, I’d prefer it if you didn’t put my name to this.

Anonymous, Chester

I was employed as an electrician to the War Department. The commanding officer at one camp where I was stationed was walking around with four other ‘brass hats’. As
he passed me, he said: ‘Hello, sparks! How is the world treating you?’

I replied: ‘Very seldom, sir, very seldom!’

And they all laughed at that.

Later, I had a wiring job in the quartermaster’s stores where they were kitting out a newcomer to the ranks with a new battle dress. The conversation went something like this:

‘How’s the blouse?’

‘Okay.’

‘How’s the trousers?’

‘Okay.’

‘Blimey, we’ve got a ruddy cripple here!’

There were only two sizes, you see – too big and too small.

Another time I was working at a German POW camp when a grey-haired German told me that he was an electrician and that he used to have his own electrical business. I asked him what he meant by
‘used to have’.

He just shrugged: ‘Along come RAF. Poof! No business!’

W. Lodge, Benfleet

Every Sunday evening at the Napoleon Inn at Boston in Lincolnshire, the ringing of a bell silenced the crowded bar. Then a voice called: ‘Absent friends!’ and
glasses were raised to all those former customers serving in the armed forces. The weekly ceremony was connected to the pub’s comfort fund that eventually raised over £1,000 for those
absent friends.