Footage of American troops at Saltash Passage in 1944

Until today, I hadn't realised that there was extensive footage of the American troops who left Saltash Passage for D Day in 1944. Here are two films which show all and they prove very interesting viewing.
The area is instantly recognisable although some buildings have disappeared over the years.
Chimneys are smoking in one film and a steam train can be seen crossing Coombe Viaduct. The films feature on YouTube but can be bought in high definition from a company called Critical Past.





I know that there is also colour footage of the troops although this is short. I'll try and locate it later.

A letter from an American soldier

With the recent commemoration of D Day, I was reminded of a letter that I received from an American soldier, who was a member of the 29th division. Back in 2006, I was researching a book about D Day so I wrote to the 29er magazine. John J Sommers of Fort Lauderdale, Florida kindly wrote back to me and sent some photos. I thought it would be interesting to share the letter and photos here. The letter read:
'Dec 9, 2005
Dear Sir,
I read your letter in the 29er magazine asking for photos for your book about Plymouth. I was stationed in Plymouth from September 1943 until D-Day June 1944 as a member of the 111th F. A Btn, C Battery, 29th Infantry Division. It was a very familiar name for me because I lived a few miles from Plymouth, Massachusetts in the States and spent many days visiting there. My unit was billeted in a very beautiful place that was a British training center for Army soldiers. It wasn't very far from the center of Plymouth because we could walk into town. We used to visit 'The Hoe', the dock where the Pilgrims left from and there was an indoor amusement center that was very popular. When we left town, we would take a road to the right that led into a gate into our quarters. There was a guardhouse to the left and a large school house looking building, on the left, once inside the gate. Across from the building was a parade ground. Past there was the Spider Barracks that had heat, wonderful heat.

I suppose that all those places are gone now, but, I'm trying to remember the name of the place. Was Okehampton the name of the area we trained in?
Enclosed find two photos of me and my friend, I was eighteen at the time when I arrived in England. Turned nineteen in January, 1944. I am going to phone another 29er and ask him to send his photo to you, he was a First Sgt. and the youngest at 22 in the division, maybe the Ninth Army.
Good luck with your book and I hope it's a best seller and let me know if I can be of any help.
John J. Somers.'
I wrote back to John but never heard any more. I've several other letters from D Day soldiers which I hope to find soon and which I'll put on this blog at a later date.

A 1950s Childhood

I recently wrote a book for Amberley Publishing called '1950s Childhood'. It would be hard for a child of today to imagine life for a child back in the 1950s. There was no internet, mobile phones (most homes didn't even have a landline) or any type of digital camera, digital music player or many of the other appliances that we take for granted nowadays. Few homes had televisions and the ones that did could only watch in black and white with only two television channels available. Their screens were tiny and it wasn't unusual, if one person had a tv in the street, for their neighbours to come in and watch it too. Music came from a gramophone player with heavy shellac records, usually playing at 78 rpm. Later, when more modern vinyl records came in, pop records were available, playing at 45 rpm. Indoor entertainment mostly came from reading books or listening to the radio. Gathering around the radio to listen to the latest serials, dramas, comedies and news was something a family all did together.
Outdoors, children played in the streets either kicking a can or football around, playing hopscotch, skipping or playing 'it' (tag). If it was spring or summer, children would play marbles or if it was autumn, they'd all find the nearest horse chestnut tree to play conkers.
Children with a bit of know-how (and help from their dads) would build wooden go-karts using discarded bike or pram wheels and any wood that they could find. Roaring downhill on a home-made go-kart was a hairy experience although many had makeshift brakes.
There were few cars about then, especially in the back streets, so it was quite safe to have a game of football in the street without coming to any harm.
Many more people talked to their neighbours and many left their doors open. Everyone knew theirlocal 'bobby', by name, and he would patrol the beat (on foot) looking out for any misdemeanours. Kids could be brought home (sometimes by the ear) by the local policeman for crimes such as cherry knocking (knocking on doors and running away), scrumping (pinching apples) or even for running across the road. Schools were more strict places and anyone who stepped out of line could get the cane, strap or be given lines. There'd be no talking in class and the teachers would expect to be called 'Sir' or 'Miss' as would all adults. Spelling, multiplication tables and fractions were all taught parrot fashion and would be expected to be learnt by the time the teacher gave a spontaneous test. The cane could be given for talking in class, not working fast enough, bad handwriting, running in the corridor, back-chat or numerous other minor offences.
More children played outside and either pretended to be cowboys and Indians, Robin Hood and his Merry Men or war heroes. It wasn’t unusual to see gangs of boys playing war games in the street and pretending to machine gun each other. If there were woods nearby, they'd also be climbing trees or building dens. Bomb sites also made an ideal playing ground and there was much to find such as discarded guns, hand grenades and various other items. There was no health and safety in those days!
Of course, with the Blitz, Plymouth changed greatly over the 1950s as much was rebuilt. Rebuilding started soon after the end of the war but continued well into the 1960s. Plymouth was seen as a modern city back then but would still seem like an alien planet to most children of today who are used to the digital world. There was something special about a childhood back then which seems to have been lost over the years. Perhaps it's just me, I am getting older!
　

New information board in Saltash Passage

A new information board was installed in the park at Saltash Passage yesterday (6th June). It looks excellent and contains information about the ferry, the American troops who left from the area for D Day as well as the history of the two bridges. It contains many old photos and is well worth a look.

The 70th Anniversary of the troops leaving from Saltash Passage for D Day

The 6th June 2014 will mark 70 years since American soldiers left Saltash Passage to take part in the D Day landings. Recently, the council contacted me because they wanted to erect an information board in the area celebrating the event. The board will also feature photos of the troops. Many people will know that I've put quite a few photos of the American soldiers leaving the passage on my Flickr site which can be found at www.flickr.com/derektaitoldphotos so I was happy to help. While searching through photos, I came across the picture, shown here, of St Budeaux historian, Marshall Ware, complete with the route signs used by the US troops in 1944. I first met Marshall by chance in the late 1990s. A half-witted neighbour took pleasure in scratching cars and puncturing tyres (you know who you are) and I heard that Marshall had several garages so I rented one from him. From that moment on, Marshall told me a lot about the area, lent me his books and showed me photos and cuttings that he had collected over the years. He remembered well the American troops being stationed in Saltash Passage and said that they'd used his field at the Kloof to store their vehicles. When they left, the route signs were left in his shed where they lay for another 50 years. I believe that after Marshall was interviewed by the Herald and had his photo taken, the signs were donated to the Royal Albert Inn but it's a mystery where they are today.
Marshall also told me that the troops had used the patch of land on the corner of Saltash Passage , at the bottom of Normandy Hill. The area has now since been built on. There was also a huge oil tank in the old orchard which was adjacent to the horse field at the Kloof. This has long since disappeared and several houses are being built on the spot at the moment.
People who read my blog regularly will know that I've already written about the American troops leaving Saltash Passage so I won't go into the story too much this time.
I've also written before how Marshall had the first car in Saltash Passage and while walking through the Kloof recently, I found an old number plate, 'ARM 963', which appears to have lain there for well over 50 years. Could this be from Marshall's car?
I learned a lot from Marshall over the years and when he died, his wife, Sally, kindly gave me his books, cuttings and photos, some of which appear in these columns and in my own books. In a way, the person who vandalised my car did me a great favour although I'm sure that wasn't the intention.
Anyway, on the 70th anniversary, I'll not only be thinking of the American soldiers, many who fought and lost their lives, but also of Marshall Ware who meant so much to the area.
　

A Childhood in Singapore and Malaya

Many people living in Plymouth, whose family were in the forces during the 1960s, probably spent some time in Singapore. I lived in Singapore and Malaya, when I was a small boy, between 1965 and 1968. My father was seconded to KD Malaya which was located within the naval base at Sembawang, Singapore. We all went together as a family and lived in Johore Bahru in Malaya, which was just across the causeway from Singapore. Life was very different than it was in England and for a boy, it was a fantastic time. With the endless heat, we only had to go to school until 1pm so most of the time was spent exploring the area. At the end of our street was just jungle and across the way was just a few shops, including one belonging to an insurance man who kept a pet monkey outside.

Dad had a Triumph Herald and we would drive over to Singapore regularly to visit the shops, which seemed to me very modern at the time, or visit the Botanic Gardens, which were full of small monkeys stealing food, or Tiger Balm Gardens with its colourful grotesque statues. Singapore was full of market stalls selling allsorts including fruit (my favorites were rambutans), wicker furniture and just about everything you needed for the house. Snake charmers sat beside the road playing flutes and hypnotising cobras or performing magic tricks for anyone who was interested.
In the holidays, we would visit the Sandycroft Leave Centre in Penang. One year, we drove the 500 miles up there by car, through endless jungle which was inhabited by elephants and tigers, as well as many bandits. It was a hairy experience and we made sure that we caught the plane up there the following year!

At home, in Johore Bahru, we had an amah who would do the housework and look after the kids. I remember when we first got a black and white television and all the local Chinese children sat on the garden gate to watch it. The 1960s had some of the best tv shows including Lost in Space, Time Tunnel, Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea and, of course, Star Trek. We also got some shows that weren't shown in England at the time including Samurai (we all made Ninja stars and threw them at anything that moved) and the Green Hornet which co-starred Bruce Lee.
Everything seemed fun and exciting to a small boy including the monsoon season, the endless chirping of crickets at night time, the chit-chats running up and down the wall, the excellent firework displays at Christmas and Chinese New Year and all the naval base parties and film shows. I saw Goldfinger there when I was about 5 years old.
Since 2006, I've written four books about our time in Singapore and Malaya including 'Sampans, Banyans and Rambutans,' 'Memories of Singapore and Malaya,' 'More Memories of Singapore and Malaya,' and 'Monsoon Memories.' So many people experienced the same life as my family and the books have sold in their thousands worldwide. I've also got an online blog which is followed by people all over the world including the actress Julia Nickson who starred in Star Trek and Rambo.
Of course, if you didn't live in Singapore in the 1960s, this will all mean nothing to you but, if like me you did, it was certainly an idyllic time.

Max Schulz - German Spy

Following on from the earlier blog post, here's the full story concerning Max Schulz.
Long before the First World War, there were German spies operating in Britain. One such spy was Max Schulz who was arrested in Plymouth in 1911. He was said, at the time, to be living on a houseboat, The Egreton, on the River Yealm.
Some newspapers of the time doubted whether Schulz was a spy at all. The Derby Daily Telegraph of Tuesday 22nd August 1911 reported:
'According to the 'Berliner Tageblatt,' the man Schulz, who has been arrested at Plymouth on a charge of espionage, is identified with a young man who disappeared some years ago from an institution at Frankfurt, where he had been placed by his parents. Schulz has had a university education and for some time earned a living as a tutor. The correspondent thinks that a sense of misguided vanity may have led him to masquerade as a German spy.'The authorities, however, took the matter very seriously and Shultz was sent to trial.
On Thursday 31st August 1911, the North Devon Journal reported:

'At Plymouth on Tuesday, Max Schulz, who is stated to be an ober-lieutenant in the German army, was committed for trial at the Exeter Assizes on charges under the Official Secrets Act, it being alleged that he had offered large sums of money to a solicitor named Duff and another man named Tarren for the supply of information, as to the state of the ships of the Home Fleet, and the opinion of English naval officers on the possibility of war between England and France on the one hand and Germany on the other over the Moroccan affair. The prisoner was refused bail and the bench also declined to allow a sum of £110, held by the police, to be handed over to Schulz for the purposes of his defence. A number of documents found on the accused and the cipher code in his possession were described and evidence was given as to the importance of the information, which his questions to the two chief witnesses were intended to elicit. When committed for trial, Schulz stoutly denied the charge and reserved his defence.' The story was reported up and down the country and on 3rd November, it was reported that Schulz had sent letters and telegrams to a man called Tobler in Ostende requesting money for information. Tobler had written back: 'Confidential works and reports are what is wanted and what you must procure at all costs if our relations are to continue. Your constant telegrams will undoubtedly lay you open to suspicion and endanger your safety and your business.'
Documents in code where found in Schulz's possession. He claimed that he was a journalist looking for new stories.
By Saturday 4th November 1911, newspapers all over Britain were reporting 'Officer Sent to Prison.' The Aberdeen Journal of that day reported:
'The trial opened at Exeter yesterday of Max Schulz, described as a lieutenant in the German Army, charged with espionage at Plymouth. The prisoner pleaded not guilty. For the defence, Mr Lawrence submitted that the information given to the prisoner was not such that publication would be detrimental to the interests of the state. What the prisoner attempted to do was nothing more nor less than journalistic enterprise. The Attorney-General said that the defence was destroyed by the fact that one of the letters contained a cipher. The prisoner was sent to obtain first-hand information. The jury found the prisoner guilty. In passing sentence of twenty month's imprisonment in the Second Division, the Lord Chief Justice said he was thankful that the relations between England and Germany were most friendly and amicable at present. He was sure that no-one would condemn or repudiate practices of which the prisoner had been guilty more strenuously than the leading men of Germany.'Schulz was released from prison in Bristol in April 1913 and thanked the authorities for his kind treatment while at Bristol and Exeter.
Meanwhile, a British spy, with a very similar sounding name, Max Shultz, was sentenced, along with others, in Leipzig, Germany for espionage, just one month later, in December 1911. The British spy received seven years penal servitude. Both cases featured heavily in the British press at the time and it would be very easy to confuse the two especially as Schulz's name was regularly reported as 'Shultz.' Incidentally, the photo of Max Schulz in court comes from the Evening Telegraph and Post of Wednesday 30th August 1911 and this is the first time it's been published in over a hundred years.