Some of the misadventures of Nonington’s own “Dad’s Army”
Home Guard recruitment posters from 1940
The Real ‘Dad’s Army’
[From the Imperial War Museum website]
The Home Guard was set up in May 1940 as Britain’s ‘last line of defence’ against German invasion. Members of this ‘Dad’s Army’ were usually men above or below the age of conscription and those unfit or ineligible for front line military service.
On 14 May 1940, Secretary of State for War Anthony Eden made a broadcast calling for men between the ages of 17 and 65 to enrol in a new force, the Local Defence Volunteers (LDV). By July, nearly 1.5 million men had enrolled and the name of this people’s army was changed to the more inspiring Home Guard.
The Home Guard was at first a rag-tag militia, with scarce and often make-do uniforms and weaponry. Yet it evolved into a well-equipped and well-trained army of 1.7 million men. Men of the Home Guard were not only readied for invasion, but also performed other roles including bomb disposal and manning anti-aircraft and coastal artillery. Over the course of the war 1,206 men of the Home Guard were killed on duty or died of wounds.
With the Allied armies advancing towards Germany and the threat of invasion or raids over, the Home Guard was stood down on 3 December 1944.
1940: An Embarrassing Injury, and an Embarrassing Mistake!
Some of the misadventures of Nonington’s own “Dad’s Army”
The following tells a story about Nonington’s Dad’s Army. I believe they used to meet in the back room of the village hall in Easole Street and where led by Fred Garlinge, who lived at “The Haven” in Church Lane and held the rank of captain in the Home Guard.
Some older long time residents of Nonington will remember the people referred to in the item, now all sadly gone, namely John Marsh, Norman Garlinge and Frank Theobald. The original story was submitted by John Young of BBC South East to-day on behalf of the late John Marsh on 26th July, 2005.
“It was 1940. I was seventeen years old, in the Home Guard, based at Nonington in Kent.
A group of three of us were walking through woodland in the area. We heard a plane circling low. Suddenly, our line stopped. Unfortunately, I was in the middle of the group, and didn’t stop quickly enough. The bayonet carried by the chap behind me ended up poking me in the top of my bottom!
It drew blood. His name was Norman Garlinge — a little younger than me, a good cricketer. I swore at him at the time, but I guess it was my fault! We had a few laughs about it.
There was another memorable event on Chapman Hill, in the same area, near Goodnestone Church. I was on midnight patrol with a chap called Frank Theobald. I heard bells ringing — but didn’t know where they were coming from. This was startling, because this was the signal of invasion. But I then realised that no, this was simply the bells tolling midnight. It was a false alarm! But, living in “Hell Fire Corner”(in East Kent), so close to France, it was something we were expecting at any moment.
The Home Guard was enjoyable. It was a mixture of the older soldiers, and the very young. Injury wasn’t common — in fact, that was just about as close as I came to it”.
