The War Years

The windows of the church were painted black and the bell was silent, for the sound of its' ringing would have announced to the village that an invasion of the country had begun. Air raid precautions were essential and the wardens head-quarters were based at Mr. Millman's garage, under the charge of Mr. Blackshaw. The rising and falling sound of the siren signalled the start of a raid and safety could be sought at one of the shelters located at Fairfield,"Farmer's Row", the Butcher's
"Shaggam" and Top Fold, near the Great North Road. If a gong or rattle had sounded during the raid, then villagers would have known that gas was being used.
Two A.R.P. wardens were on duty at any one time working in four hour shifts; their responsibilities included enforcing the blackout regulations, not only in homes but also on buses and trains. f.arly in the war there was much concern for the children of the village and a suggestion was made that the half-mile tunnel could be used as an air-raid shelter, as this quote from the school log-book indicates:-
"Men prepared the tunnel and the deputy-chief warden from Selby visited the school and inspected the tunnel and 'open trench', and considered it a safe place for children during a raid". The parents of Fairburn disagreed with the warden, made their objections known, and the tunnel was never used. However:-
"August 28th. About 2 a.m. this morning Fairburn had
its first air raid. Two bombs were dropped, one over Fortunately serious raids were not frequent, though it must always have been a relief to hear the continuous siren which signalled the end of a raid.
The Comfort Club met every week at Mrs. Arthur Bramleys, and was an organisation which collected ld a week from every villager in order to send knitting, balaclavas, socks, gloves and scarves to the troops. The group tried to keep a record of the location of all the local servicemen, where possible.
At the Institute, under the direction of local doctors, the First Aid Group met every Sunday morning, preparing for examinations and taking part in simulated exercises. A Gladstone bag was constantly packed ready for emergencies and areas of responsibility would be allocated by the A.R.P. wardens.
At about the same time on a Sunday morning the Home Guard would be practising drill and receiving orders, which were closely guarded secrets. The Home Guard organisations sprang up all over the country after the events of Dunkirk and invasion seemed more likely.
Rations, gas-masks, fire-watching, accumulators, and radio broadcasts are still strong memories of the years between 39 and 45 for many Fairburners, as well as the concern they all felt for villagers in the forces and we will finish this chapter with the final entry in the school log book:-
"May 8th 1945"

"A Place of Safety"
As the harsh reality of a world war began to grip the country, the policy of evacuation came quickly into effect; an enormous number of young people were transported from the dangers of the cities and towns to the safety of the countryside. Fairburn
was a refuge for young people from London and the South of England; the government took over"Thornlea" as an H.Q. for the operation. "I can remember catching the train from London to Selby. I had no idea where I was going but the journey was paradise, being away from the sirens and the raids of the South. I wasn't part of the main evacuation party as they had all travelled up earlier. I was ten years old and I felt completely on my own.

The train arrived at Selby during a raid and we were met by our own teacher from Brighton, a Miss New, who took us by bus to Burton Salmon, where we stayed overnight with the station-master and his family. The next day Mr. Tommy Bramley collected me and took me to Mrs. Edna Claytons'; she was in the middle of cookinglunch and from the minute I stepped through the door I was made to feel part of the family.
It was the summer of 1940, and I'll always remember the blossom on the trees, the village was spotlessly clean. Fairburn wasn't like the villages of Southern England, it was more attractive, and each villager had a tremendous sense of pride in their own particular part of the environment. I'll never forget my first sight of the stone walls, I just couldn't understand why they didn't fall down. Naturally, I did have moments of regret and loneliness in the first few months, and especially strong in my memory is the moment when I realised I wouldn't be able to run down to the sea to ask the fishermen if they wanted any help laying out the nets. However, such times were more than compensated for by the new friends I made, for by the time the first winter had arrived I had mastered
the rules of "Kick-off-Can", learnt how to attach, buttons and cotton so that they rattled on the window panes of unsuspecting villagers, and had my first experiences of skating on the Ings.

There was one incident I can remember vividly and it sent a real tingle round the whole village. Low-flying aircraft had been reported,and rumours began to spread that a German parachutist was hiding close to the village; the searching and mounting excitement lasted for several days and nights. The other big event was of course the dropping of the bomb near the railway - I wasn't allowed to visit the site on my own, we went in groups as though visiting a secret shrine.
Tt is the warmth and friendliness of the village which I will always treasure, whether it was illustrated as I chatted with older villagers as we watched the lorries on the turnpike, or through the constant offers of hospitality in peoples' homes. Friendliness which compelled me to cycle back from Brighton in