Dilys Paes

Bill and the RAF and the War

Just before by 10th birthday, War was declared and although we didn’t really know what to expect, all the Mums were storing up tins of food until their pantries were full of tins and packages, as they knew to expect a shortage of food. People were being called up and our older brother Bill wanted to join the RAF. He did very well at school and got his matriculation and he could have gone to university. Mum and Dad were not able to pay for him to go to university, to pay for books and clothes and all the things he would need. Bill got a job in Courtauld’s, in this big factory my Dad was in, as the chemistry student in the lab and he did very well there. In February, when War was declared he was 18 but he was too young to join the RAF. He had volunteered for the RAF but they said he was too young to take at that particular time.

He was called up to the RAF shortly after his 19th birthday and really that was the last time all of the family lived together because during the War Bill was posted here, there and everywhere. He was posted to Canada, where he sailed out to become a flying instructor. Previous to that, he became an officer and eventually a flight lieutenant. He was there for about two-and-a-half years and he and his friends were made much of by the Canadians. He was in Hamilton, Ontario and this particular family had two sons and a daughter and Betty was really struck by Bill. He was a good-looking fellow, and I think she would have loved to become engaged to him, but Bill wanted to make sure of his future and wouldn't make a commitment at that time. It was so kind of him to send parcels to us and one time he said, ‘Why don’t you make a list of all the things you really need’, which Mum did. To her horror, the letter was returned to her by the people who used to inspect letters going out of the country, explaining that we were not allowed to let people outside the country know what our shortages were. People could be fined or imprisoned if they continued to do this so, my mother expected a knock at the door any time after that. She thought she was going to be arrested, but Bill did continue to send his parcels.

He and his fellow officers were entertained by Americans in New York. In fact, the Rani of Pewdo Kato, Indian state, took a liking to Bill and his friend, and asked could she have a set of their tunic buttons to make earrings, which she had dipped in gold.

Around D-Day, we had a telegram to say that someone’s older son, Charles, had been injured and was in hospital and another communication to say he was granted leave and would like to come and see us. Rationing was still on at this time, and my mother sat down, threw the apron over her face and didn't know what to do because we had a telegram to say he was on his way. We used to have rations every week and then once a month, we had points which would cover things like tinned goods, biscuits and that sort of thing. These points were not due till the Monday, and Charles was due to come to us on the Sunday. Word got around to Mum’s friends and one friend had made an extra apple pie and sent it to Mum and someone else hadn’t used their bacon ration and sent it to Mum with some eggs. By the time Charles arrived, Mum had a wonderful meal for him.

 He was a handsome man and while Mum was cooking, we took him for a walk. We didn't realise how badly injured he was and we took him for a long walk and when we got back, he was exhausted. He stayed with us for the weekend, kept in touch with us and indeed came and spent another leave with us and took Gwyn and I to Liverpool to see a pantomime. We were teenagers and we thought it was wonderful to go to this. He told us he bought a new hat because at that time he wore the soldier’s glengarry hat and he had these tartan trousers. He had brought his kilt but when he offered to wear it, we said not to worry and we were happy to have him wear his trousers. He brought this sort of beret and he asked us which to wear and we chose the little glengarry. We had a lovely time with him.

At the beginning of the War, Bill was training to be a pilot and he came home from time to time on leave, but we never knew where he had been as this was hushed up. Selwyn was now about 2 years old and Holywell was made a garrison town and solders came into town in different groups or battalions. Not far from us, at the entrance to the Strand, were a few cottages and the army commandeered it and made it into a clinic. It was here that the soldiers would receive all their jabs before being sent abroad, although we didn't realise this, but these jabs were done in an upstairs room and if we hid behind a hedge on top of a high wall, we could see the soldiers having their injections and some of them would faint and we used to think this was quite funny, but then we were quite little.

They used to use our estate for practising their marching and the sergeant would bring a group of 30 or 40 of them and they used to use Heol-y-Brenin because that was a level street. The Strand was built on a sloping hill and they would have a break and the mums used to come out and try to make some sort of a hot drink for them especially as it was winter time. This was January-February time and for Christmas, Selwyn had a soldier’s outfit, a hat and some sort of a wooden sword. One morning, as the soldiers were marching and turned left, Selwyn joined on at the back and marched along with them and when the sergeant said “About turn”, Selwyn turned as well and to the astonishment of the troo,p Selwyn was leading them. The soldiers were finding it hard not to laugh and the sergeant eventually brought them to a standstill and to attention, while my mother grabbed Selwyn. The sergeant couldn’t be too cross with him as the mums had been supplying them with hot drinks, but Selwyn didn't do it again. 

During the war, on Guy Fawkes night, we couldn't have a bonfire but we were allowed to have half a dozen fireworks and Selwyn wanted to light one there and then. Dad had worked a 12-hour shift at night and was in bed during the day. He was a very light sleeper and any noise, he would hammer on the floor of the bedroom with a stick. My mum gave in and said “Right you can light a firework, but do it in the front”. So we settled Selwyn on the steps of the front door, where the path sloped down towards the gate. I got this little Jumping Jack firework, put it in the middle of the path, lit it and we all ran in. It started to jump up the steps and into the stairway and it was very loud. Dad started banging on the ceiling. My mother was so angry. I got the blame of course. Yes, it was my fault but I had no idea the jumping Jack could jump over 2 steps into a hall, so that was the end of the firework display.

Every time there was an air raid in Liverpool, we had the sirens going in Holywell because the German aircraft used to fly over North Wales and align their bombs to drop into Liverpool and then fly away. Very often when the fighters came to attack them, they would just jettison their bombs anywhere, so there were quite a lot of casualties in North Wales caused by this dropping of the German bombs. In fact, one of the bombs went down one of the main chimneys of the Courtaulds factory but fortunately it didn't explode. I just couldn't imagine what would have happened if it had.