Alf is currently writing his lifestory, ‘Navy days in World war Two’. Here is a small section of his story. It will soon be turned into a booklet.
At the age of 19 years in October 1941 I entered the Services: the Royal Navy. The war had been on for two years. We had not seen much of the war at all where I lived in Horbury, West Yorkshire. We’d had just two bombings: a leather works that was hit by incendiaries and set on fire; and two semi-detached houses in Thornes Lane near the Wakefield Park. I had never been out of Yorkshire. I’d never been on or seen the sea; we were too busy working. I’d been making air-raid shelters for Harlow and Milner at their Batley Carr, dewsbury site. That’s why I was deferred from the service for two years.
One day when I came home from work there was an envelope waiting for me: On His Majesty’s Service. I had a good idea what it was. I felt a bit excited because I wanted to do my bit. I also had the feeling of being forced into something I felt like refusing, but I knew that I had to go and fight for my country. I could eat my tea but I felt a bit queer. I’d never been out of my home town and they said I had to report to HMS Ganges in Norwich. They told me which train to catch and where to change for another train from Peterbrough to Norwich. A few days later, together with my papers and my travel warrant I set off. My moterh was in tears because I was the youngest of five and two were already in the army. Bert was in the engineers and Richard was in the airborne. But off I went, with my pork sausage sandwiches and just the clothes I stood in.
