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This is the 3rd part of an informative letter written by Roy Green in 2001 to his granddaughter, Hannah, in which he tells her what local life in Angmering was like during World War II.
On the seafront at East Preston, where you now go to build sandcastles, about one mile from Angmering, there were miles and miles of scaffold poles just in the sea. These were to stop any landing craft from getting onto the beach.
There were also fake buildings made to look like gun emplacements from the sea. I suppose from the air they looked like the real thing. These were ideal for us children to change into our bathing suits when we went swimming. We were really not allowed to swim in the sea at that time, but when the weather was hot it was irresistible.
At the north end of Water Lane, large concrete blocks were built in order to stop tanks in the event of invasion. These blocks were quite large, about 6ft x 6ft cubed. I really don't think they would have been much use in stopping tanks, but we enjoyed jumping from one to another. Many a youngster ended up with scraped knees by missing their foothold.
In the field at the back of Water Lane, huge V shaped ditches were dug. These were possibly about 30 feet deep. The idea was that if a tank went down one side it would not be able to get up the other. This was I think wishful thinking.
We used the tank traps to jump down with a blanket used as a parachute.
Many moons ago Angmering was under the sea. I understand the sea actually came up to the bottom of the hill by the church. When the tank traps were dug, large amounts of fossilized sea creatures were found which were thousands of years old. These were collected and taken to Angmering School. I wonder what happened to them ?
At certain points on the roadsides, 40-gallon drums of highly inflammable liquid were stored. These drums had a chimney on top, and the idea was that if a German tank came by, a man with a hand grenade could drop it down the chimney and set of the liquid. I hate to think what would happen to the man who had to do this. Luckily the situation never arose.
All around the hedges were signs written in both English and German stating DANGER MINES. This was just bluff of course.
At the southern end of Water Lane was a Garage (now the BMW garage). When German planes were shot down they were brought there to salvage anything useful. This garage was manned by French Canadian soldiers, and when they had taken anything dangerous from the planes, they let us children look over them and take item as souvenirs.
The most priced object was the very thick kind of plastic used on German windscreens. This could easily be melted down and made into all sorts of goodies. I remember that the village women had wedding rings made from this stuff, as gold was almost unobtainable during the war.
The French Canadians had arrived in the village late one evening, setting up field guns at the back of our houses under the trees and hedges. This was the first time anyone in the village had seen a BLACK MAN , he was a huge hulk of a man, but was a real gentle giant.
Meat for the civilian population was in short supply. Most locals bred rabbits to eak out the rations. My mate, called Bob Yates, and myself would collect bread for the troops from our local bakery, and in return the soldiers let us have the veg peelings and scrap food to feed our rabbits. Most households kept rabbits to get meat.
During the summer months, when the corn was harvested, the whole village would form a ring around the fields. As the harvester got near to the middle of the field the rabbits would scatter in all directions. With luck we would get hold of one to put meat on the table at dinnertime.
Our village policeman was a man names Constable Christmas. You can imagine the ribbing he got on his name. Anyway on the village green was a tin hut for local people to put their scrap paper. It had just a small slot in the front for people to post their paper through. A lot of good magazines were put in as well as papers, and I could just squeeze in to get them out for the lads.
One day, Mr Christmas came along when I was in the hut, he ordered me out, and paraded me through the village holding onto my ear and took me home to my mum. When we got home he told my mum what I had done, but no one seemed to really mind, I think he just wanted a cup of tea, and spent an hour in our kitchen for a warm up.
Can you imagine what would happen today if a copper got hold of someone's ear? Wartime I suppose brought out the best in people. We were all in the same boat, all trying to get enough food etc to feed our families.
My dad worked at a local farm called Piles Farm, at the northern end of Water Lane. He managed to get hold of vegetables and eggs, which helped out. Every pig, goat or cow that was born had to be registered with the MOD, but there was always the odd pig that somehow did not get registered, and this was used at Christmas for dinner and shared out amongst the farm workers.
Food wasn't really that short in the countryside, as most people had large gardens to grow their own. We were all issued with ration books, and shopkeepers could only issue food if we had enough points on our books for whatever we bought. No McDonalds in those days!!
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