- Contributed by
- People in story:
- sydney robinson
- Location of story:
- Background to story:
- home guard
- Article ID:
- Contributed on:
- 11 November 2003
My father (Sydney, now deceased) was 29 at the outbreak of WW2, but was in a reserved occupation, building cranes, excavators and self propelled guns at Ruston Bucyrus in Lincoln.
With other local lads of a like mind, he was a proud member of the home guard in the Burton Road area, where he lived with his wife Doris and their 5 children. (I wasn't born till 1946, a celebration baby?) He even had a rifle!
The day of the exercise arrived and everyone was full of high expectations. A separate platoon had to "invade" Burton Road, and my dad's platoon's task was to keep them under surveillance from the top of Lincoln's water tower, and organise an ambush.
All went well at first. The enemy were spotted, and my dad was dropping messages down to the captain below. Little squares of paper, wrapped around a pebble. Disaster struck when, in their haste to deliver the messages, the pebble wrapping was not up to standard, and message papers were floating off in the breeze.
How they laughed later, after the rollickings had worn off.
© Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.