Son Of Sgt Bruce Krrc

A Memory of Chiseldon.

My father was stationed at Chisledon Camp from 1939 to 1942. Living in Littlehampton on the south coast, threatened with invasion, my mother rented the end thatched cottage of the row of cottages which face the railway line just north of the station railway bridge. This was much safer and we were able to be with my father who was in the camp just up the road. I was 7 years old, and my brother was 9. Our father's job was to teach the recruits how to drive, bren gun carriers, motor bikes, etc. My brother and I went to the school which was just behind the cottage, accessed though a hole in the hedge at the bottom of the garden (a short school run in those days). A retired shepherd had a caravan, like a gypsy caravan, parked up against the side wall of the cottage, on a bit of waste ground there. He was always in there and talked with us often. Next door were two girls the same age as us. We knew each other well of course, sadly I have forgotten their names. About 3 cottages up lived a refugee family from the Channel Islands. The father use to give us a hair cut sitting on a kitchen chair in the road just by the railway mans house which was right opposite our cottage. My father would often call at the cottage, accompanied with a gang of motor cyclists, great fun. The station area and the fields behind it were favourite playgrounds, seem to remember there were many apple trees thereabouts. I remember watching troops of soldiers marching down the hill to board the train at the station, yes, singing as well. Almost certainly we now know, they were going off to north Africa to reinforce the 8th Army. For a short while we also attended a little school, which was no more than a tin shed, made I think of green painted corregated iron. This 'school' was situated at the top of the hill which leads out of the village towards the camp. I remember it well because my brother and I were sent home from this school one day because the teacher did not like us having cream on our hair. In fact if I remember correctly it was liquid paraffin which was all you could get in those days. I dont blame her! Standing on the railway bridge as the steam engines passed beneath was amazing fun. From Chisledon we moved to Burdrop. We lived in one of the semis in that unmade lane that leads from the main road to the farm, the main road end one. The house nearest to the farm was occupied by Mr Durston, the farm foreman. The other semi was occupied by 2 land girls who worked on the farm. All our spare time was spent on the farm and birds' nesting, even climbing the elms in the park to get the rooks' eggs. we climbed the silage tower for pigeons' eggs and went rabbiting with our dog. We watched the bombers attacking Wroughton aerodrome, we collected white raspberries from the top of downs behind the airfield. I have the dubious distinction of being run over by a horse-drawn cart, those land girl drivers! My brother and I went to school in Wroughton via Brimble Hill. My main recollection of this school concerns the knitting of countless numbers of 12" squares which eventually ended up as army blankets. I like to think of this activity as one of the serious contributions that was made to the war effort. Several German prisoners worked on the farm while we were there, I can't remember that they had guards with them. The Americans moved into the park and I can remember talking to them many times at the main gate to the house. In 1941, or was it early 1942, the KRR'S moved to Strensall Camp near York, taking my father with them. The invasion scare was now over and after a brief stay in Wakefield with some relatives it was back to Littlehampton, Sussex.

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