David Nicholls
This text is an excerpt from a personal website, written by David Nicholls. He describes his childhood growing up in Lancing, England, during World War II, recounting memories of school life, air raids, and the presence of military personnel in his town. He also remembers daily life and common places in the area, including the
local cinema, his paper route, and a nearby manor house. The excerpt reveals the impact of the war on his everyday experiences as a young boy.
Hear David's story
Memories of Lancing for me.
Memories of Lancing.
I grew up in North Lancing. In 1939, my Dad bought a small bungalow at
Lewes Road off Fircroft Avenue. I remember the cost of our home (just
five hundred pounds). Then, Fircroft Avenue was an unmade road lined
with almond trees which shed their blossoms like confetti. The Downs
up to Lancing Clump were a playground to us, kids. (It was always
called Lancing Clump locally, although the proper name was Lancing
Ring).
As the war progressed, the fields above North Lancing became an Army
battle school. Trenches were dug around the Clump, and defensive
positions were manned by the soldiers during the time of an invasion was
expected. Bren gun carriers towing field guns were everywhere, and
soldiers camped in the fields above Derek Road. Fascinating for small
boys! Though forbidden by our parents, we boys scoured the fields for
any bit of military hardware left behind.
Military Presence in Lancing
Many of the houses on Ring Road were occupied by the military.
Canadian soldiers who used to march down Mill Road in their Scottish
Canadian kilts led by a bagpiper. The chalk pit at the top of Mill
Road was used as a gunnery range. The crackle of small arms fire
alerted us boys, and although we couldn’t go there while the troops
were firing, we would scrabble in the chalk for spent bullets and brass
cartridge cases at the end of the day.
School Memories
I went to school at the local primary school. It was in an old
Victorian building at the bottom of Mill Road, opposite the Corner
House as the pub was named then. Classes were held in one big room
divided up by screens. Not the best learning environment, as the noise
of the other classes made it difficult to hear what the teacher was
saying.
Then one day, all pupils were assembled in the playground and marched
up to the newly completed School. I think the year was 1940. What a
palace. Big classrooms with floor-to-ceiling windows, wide corridors
and a big hall for assembly and PT. We had only been in our new
school for a few days when a gang of workmen arrived and sprayed the
windows with a plastic stuff that smelled like pear drops. This was to
prevent the glass from shattering and flying in all directions if a bomb
landed nearby. Other windows were plastered with crisscross sticky
tape for the same reason. We soon settled down in our new school.
Miss Humphreys was Headmistress, Miss Tait was second in command, and
I remember my class teachers were Miss Dawson and Miss Allman. (I
don’t know if I have spelt the names correctly - but it is a long
time ago).
Air Raid Experiences
It was the time of the air raids. When the siren sounded, we all left
our classes and were led to the brick-built air raid shelters on the
south side of the school grounds. As we trooped down to the shelters,
we sometimes heard the far-off rattle of machine gun fire and saw the
condensation trails made by the aircraft high in the sky. We didn’t
know it then, but history was being made above us as young men fought
in their Spitfires to defend our country. In the semi-darkness of the
shelters teacher would attempt to carry on the interrupted lesson. I
remember that Horlicks tablets were handed out too, and some teachers
would try and get a sing-along going. When the single note of the All
Clear sounded, we returned to our classrooms to resume lessons.
Over half a century later, I visited my old school in my work as a
Press Photographer to photograph a child who has won an award. I
mentioned to the head teacher that I had been one of the first pupils
in the school. I was then invited to have a tour. I saw again my old
classroom, but how small it all seemed after all the years. Gone were
the serried rows of little desks, and in their place were individual
tables scattered about the classroom. The air raid shelters were long
since demolished, and no one remembered them
I had a coffee in the staff room, which in my day was Miss Humphrey’s
study. More memories. In this room, I was caned for misbehaviour by
Miss Humphreys using a long whippy cane on the palms of my hands.
There were three china ducks on the opposite wall, and I kept my eyes
on these to try and not to cry at the pain of that punishment. My crime
was to be seen running irreverently across the churchyard, jumping
over the graves during some juvenile game.
Friends and Local Families
A few names from my school days. There was a family of Ripleys and
Johnstons in Fircroft Avenue. My own best friend, Kenny Baker, lived on
the corner of Lewis Road and Fircroft. Further up Lewes Road lived
the Ayling family, and opposite us was the Wellbeloved family. I
wonder where they are now?
At the bottom of Lynchmere Road was the Post Office run by Mr Martin,
and next door was the Fircroft News Agency, where later I had a paper
round to earn my pocket money. My round took in Firle Road, Derek Road,
as well as Rossiter, Lynchmere and Fairview.
Corner House to the junction with Boundstone Lane and onto Shoreham.
Now there is a bypass, and where the roundabout is now stood a small
general store called the Stormy Petrel. (/Anyone remember it?)
The Regal cinema in Penhill Road was my Saturday morning treat, and the
programme was all for children. Cowboys and Indians, Cartoons and
Tarzan films were greatly enjoyed. Later, I used to go to the Luxor
when I could afford it.
I often walked to Lancing Manor, past the manor house and up to the
lane leading to Hoe Court. Lancing College was then occupied by the
Royal Navy and called HMS King Alfred. From here, I would continue to
the Sussex Pad and watch the Spitfires, Hurricanes and Lysanders
landing and taking off from Shoreham Airport.
The Reality of War
One night, the war became very real and serious to us. The siren had
sounded, and there were lots of low-flying aircraft overhead. Our
family took shelter in our Morrison Shelter, a steel cage supplied to
householders and intended to protect them if the house was destroyed.
That night, the anti-aircraft guns were firing, and suddenly, there were
thunderous explosions coming nearer. Bombs were falling on Lancing, and
we were terrified as the detonations came closer. In the morning, we
found that one bomb had hit a house on First Avenue and another had
partly destroyed a house on Grand Avenue. The sight of these homes
with the outer walls gone and the interior exposed made me realise
that the war was deadly serious. Another bomb had fallen on the
ground above Firle Road, making a deep crater in the chalk.
Towards the end of the war, the military presence increased. Fairview
Road and many other side roads had tanks parked nose to tail. Then
one day, they were all gone. D-Day had started the long-awaited
Invasion of Europe.
It all seems so long ago now. Boundstone School had not been built,
and there were acres of glasshouses growing tomatoes to the south of
the A27 road. There were more glasshouses and nurseries to the west
of North Lancing. The area of bungalows there was called locally
Mickey Mouse town to the annoyance of the residents.
There are then a few of my recollections of Lancing in the years 1939
to 1945. I had a happy childhood, and although I no longer live in
Lancing, I have many happy childhood memories from that time. David
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