This article was one of a series of short articles about people’s memories of the war printed in the Souvenir Programme produced for events in Radley organised to commemorate the 50th Anniversary of VE Day on 8 May 1995.
Frederick Rasmus (Ted) Holst was born in 1915 in Sunderland and died in the Abingdon area in 1999. He married Ida Chapman in 1945 in Sunderland. Ted and Ida came to live in Ferny Close, Radley, following some years working abroad (we think Ted was a ship’s pilot in one of the Gulf states). Ida was very involved in several village organisations. A few years after Ted’s death, she decided to go and live nearer her daughter in the north-east of England. She still kept in contact with friends in Radley and liked to hear about what was happening in the village.
1941: Some mother’s son by Ted
It was a lovely August Monday in Canada Dock, Liverpool. I was gangway duty officer on the auxiliary aircraft carrier, HMS Audacity, awaiting orders for convoy duty with 36 Escort Group, commanded by Commander Walker, RN.
We had done all our practice and training, our aircraft were ready, we’d had our leave. About 14:00 hours a young seaman, designated HO (hostilities only) came up the gangway, hours overdue from leave. His excuse was that there was no train running from his home town, Sunderland, to Liverpool. Asked to repeat his excuse and to think carefully about his answer he again said that there was no train running on a Sunday afternoon. “First Lieutenant’s Report for overstaying your leave”, he was told. “But sir”, was the protest. “Unfortunately for you it is that you lied about the train. As I live in Sunderland, I caught the train that you said was not running”.
Days and weeks went by. On 21 December 1941, the battle that had begun a few days previously and was a running fight came for us to a calamitous conclusion. The Audacity was torpedoed and was sinking fast. I was on the flight deck, by the bridge sponson [a projection on the side of a boat, ship or seaplane], awaiting the final order, “Every man to himself” when the young seaman from Sunderland appeared beside me. “What are you doing here?”, I asked. “You heard the order to abandon ship”. ‘I can’t swim sir”, he replied.
He was wearing his Royal Navy regulation life belt, already inflated. I took him by the arm and faced him towards the blackness, and told him to start running as fast as he could without stopping. He did just that and disappeared over the edge of the flight deck into the darkness. I never saw him again.
Note: HMS Audacity, escorting Convoy HG-76 from Gibraltar to the UK, sank west of Cape Finisterre off Portugal in 70 minutes. A total of 73 of her crew were killed. Survivors were picked up by the corvettes, Convolvulus, Marigold and Pentstemon.
More about HMS Audacity
Keeping pigs by Ida
Some people kept pigs and fed them on collected kitchen swill. A licence was needed, but some people unofficially kept more than one. Permission was needed to slaughter an animal. The story goes that a farmer slaughtered two pigs. News arrived that an inspector was on his way. The carcase of one pig was hidden quickly. After the inspection, the farmer’s wife asked if everything was in order. “Yes madam”, replied the inspector, “but unfortunately your pig had two left sides”.
Eating out by Ida
Towards the end of the war dried bananas arrived on the scene. They were revolting-looking brown strips which swelled up in water.
Ted and I were having lunch in a hotel in the north-east. There was one other couple in the room at the time. On the menu were rice pudding and bananas and custard. I warned Ted not to ask for bananas but we heard the other couple ordering them. We sat in silence for their comments. Suddenly Ralph Reeder of Gang Show fame yelled out “What the b——hell is this?” as he looked at a dish of yellow custard with two long brown blobs in it. We nearly fell off our seats with laughing.
Wartime clothing by Ida
As the war progressed we used whatever came to hand. A prize was to obtain a white sack in which Canadian wheat was delivered. These sacks were of thick white material, which was great for tea towels, aprons, etc. Never mind the printed lettering which eventually bleached out.
Army blankets were made into coats and dressing gowns.
Ladies’ skirts were allowed three knife pleats. Coats no longer than 39.5 inches counted as children’s wear and so needed fewer coupons.
The backs of men’s shirts were made into aprons, tiny blouses, hankies and other things.
Hair was rolled around a stocking or a shoelace. Legs were painted with liquid make-up and a black line added down the back of the leg. Aristoc stockings were very scarce and cost almost 8% of a week’s wage.