My father was member of the Local Defence Force (the Home Guard) formed in 1940 as an auxiliary defence force against the threat of an invasion of the United Kingdom by German forces from the Continent. This collection of part time soldiers has been immortalised by that wonderful BBC TV Programme Dad’s Army. Many of the humorous situations featured in that popular and evergreen series were almost certainly based on true incidents, possibly as follows.
During World War Two, my family lived in the Gants Hill area of Ilford which, although on the edge of the heavily bombed East End, suffered considerably from enemy airborne action especially during the Battle of Britain. I remember my father, a Corporal although also a Captain Mainwaring “lookalike”, coming home one evening with a large greasy object wrapped in newspaper. This was an American Springfield rifle of World War One vintage, which my father restored to working order after many hours of tedious cleaning; an accompanying bayonet was similarly treated. He had been issued with a uniform some time previously but up to then had carried out arms drill with broomsticks, such was the shortage of military equipment after the withdrawal of the British forces from France at Dunkirk in 1940.
Because of the possibility of imminent invasion, it was policy for the Home Guard to retain their firearms at home. After one of the many daylight air raids during the Battle of Britain, my family emerged from our garden air raid shelter to see an aircraft issuing smoke and descending some distance away. But overhead, and apparently about to land in our garden, was an airman in his parachute. Both my father and his neighbour, another member of the Home Guard, said “Jerry” (meaning German) and rushed indoors to collect their firearms. If ammunition had been available they could, in their excitement, have filled the poor bloke with holes but he was saved by the wind which carried him rapidly away to land some distance off. We learned later that he was not German but British and one of Churchill’s Few.
During the night blitz, the local animal hospital at South Woodford was bombed and the stables set alight. The horses were released to save them and a number of these terrified animals bolted onto the nearby main road and set off at a fast pace. Several miles further on, the Home Guard with their rifles ready were manning a barricade on the Southend road to stop any invading German forces (probably armoured vehicles!) from entering London from the East. Hearing strange sounds from behind, they turned to see a bunch of horses with flared nostrils, wide eyes and flying manes bearing down on them at high speed. In the true tradition of the British Army and the Home Guard they vacated the area with equal rapidity. The horses vaulted the barricade as if at the Grand National and continued on towards Romford where they ran out of steam in the market place and were secured. The Home Guard then proceeded to brush themselves down and make a cup of tea to restore their shattered nerves.
In reality, this was a serious business. The poor devils behind the barricade would have stood no chance against armoured vehicles and none would have survived any engagement for Hitler had declared the Home Guard as irregulars who were to be shot in sight. And these soldiers had already done a full days work and often had little sleep because of nightly air raids. For instance, my father was a bank official in the City of London to which he travelled each day in a crowded steam train, which could been bombed at any time. He then may have stayed overnight at the bank to “fire-watch” and help deal with any fires caused in the blitz. His home life was taken up with cultivating an allotment where he grew vegetables to eke out our food rations, and then attend duty in the evenings with the Home Guard. Like others his health suffered badly but he battled through, as did many of his associates, and we must be eternally grateful for their efforts during this war.
In later years the BBC TV series Dad’s Army reminded many, and introduced others, to life on what was then called the “Home Front”. By chance, I had a minor association with one of the major props used in the TV Series. Before we were married my wife lived next door to a family, the grandfather of whom specialised in antique motor vehicles. One day a large and ancient Crossley type van of very early vintage appeared outside the front of the house. Its owner was the grandfather who was hiring out the vehicle to a film company. One side was inscribed “Chivers Jams” but the other was blank. He told us that this side would bear the name of a butcher’s business for its appearance in a film about the Home Guard. This was the famous Butchers van owned by the Dads Army Corporal Jones and I got to know it quite well. The cab was spacious with a hard wooden bench for driver and passengers and it could seat four. I was not allowed to drive the vehicle because of the difficulties of coping with its non-synchromesh gearbox. However when the van was featured in a recent film about the making of the TV series, the lady presenter made her commentaries from the cab while attempting to drive it. The effect on the gearbox was appalling and I’m sure that the grandfather would have turned in his grave if he had known what was happening.
Apart from being a recent contender for the most popular TV comedy programme, Dads Army has reminded us of those dark days when Britain really had its back to the wall; but the programme has also brought pleasure to thousands. The best comment made about it came from some young children who said that the programme was very funny and the more likeable because it contained no violence, bad language or reference to sex. Out of the Mouths of Babes and Sucklings . . .