Reminiscences of the Occupation by John Bisson

For the 75th Anniversary of Liberation approaching this week, another article on what it was like during the Occupation:

Reminiscences of the Occupation by John Bisson

I lived with my family in Rue du Pont Marquet, St. Brelade; living in the country was a great advantage as we could grow our own vegetables to supplement our meagre food allowances. Not far from our house we had a plot of land on which we grew carrots. One morning a group of Russian prisoners from a nearby camp passed by under the guard of two German soldiers. As they passed our carrot plot, the temptation of food was too much for them as they were starving. In one swoop they cleared the complete crop, but who could blame them?

On another occasion, my brother and I were returning home 30 minutes after curfew (curfew being 10 pm.) when we spotted some Germans, who were billeted in a house near our garden, just about to hop over our fence to steal some pumpkins which we were growing.

We shouted out, You `raus!" (Go away), knowing they were in the wrong, they did so, but we waited and watched and sure enough they came back again. Again we shouted "You `raus!", only to receive the reply "You `raus, or we'll shoot!". Obviously we obeyed but the Germans left empty handed. We could have reported them to their commandant, but as their discipline was so strict that they would have been sent to the front line as a punishment, we decided not to.

St. Helier residents were not nearly as fortunate as country folk as they could not grow anything. and when they had meat, for example, it was only a few ounces (unless they knew a farmer). It was dreadful to see them, as they were walking skeletons with pale drawn faces. Red Cross parcels were desperately needed for them.

In the country we could glean corn from the fields; at one time we collected 4'/4 cwt. which we took to the mill where the owner would grind it into flour. He wanted only payment in cigarettes, fortunately we were allowed 10 each week, and could barter with these.

Two or three evenings a week, I would cycle to St. Martins, 9 miles each way, to visit my girlfriend whom I subsequently married! I would meet up with my brother on Pont Marquet Road using a quiet whistle as a signal between us to be sure neither of us was a German soldier but if we heard the sound of boots approaching we would immediately hide in the nearest field until the Germans had passed. One night. my bicycle broke down after curfew. In a state of panic I knocked on the nearest Jerseyman's door and he gave me his son’s bed for the night as he was away at war

On another occasion, I approached a policeman who told me he could let me sleep in a cell, but as I did not like that idea he suggested I go to a guest house in Belmont Road Fortunately, on both occasions the premises were on the phone and I could call my family and tell them all was well

My fiancée and I decided to get married in 1944, had we known the war was going to finish in 1945. we would have waited! Nevertheless, two days before the big day, I was stopped by a German guard as again I was out half-an-hour after curfew. My heart sank, but fortunately he only fined me one mark on the spot and warned me that it would be five if I did it again.

On another occasion I wanted to visit a friend who was not well. He lived at the end of a lane at the bottom of La Marquanderie Hill, St Brelade. Halfway down the hill the road was covered with green moss as there were springs at the side (they have since been capped); it was always wet and slippery which meant I had to cycle on the wrong side to avoid it. Much to my horror, I rode into a German soldier who was round a corner and knocked him over! I tore my trousers from top to bottom and the soldier must have felt sorry for me as I was not punished.

I had an egg in each pocket for my friend which were, of course, very precious, but both eggs were unbroken! I was being watched over for sure that day! I had to borrow my brother's suit that evening to go out, as clothes were scarce and I had no other trousers, it was unfortunate that he was quite a bit taller than me, but no-one noticed.

The children used to follow trucks and open the canvas flaps at the back to steal bread - also in Le Riches car park there were cow sheds with a loft over and the children found a German cache of food up there: quite a lot disappeared!! But who could blame them?

In the country the pigs had to be registered, but farmers always had an extra one hidden away Somehow the Germans thought this was happening and decided to investigate. One farmer had just killed an "illegal" pig, but he had not had time to cut it up, when he heard the Germans were coming. He had a spare bedroom so he popped the pig into the bed, covered it up and when the Germans arrived he greeted them and said, "You can come in but the old lady has just passed away this morning" They declined and politely went on their way.

You had to be imaginative to eat well. We boiled sea water until there was only salt left, and sugar beet was boiled and compressed for sweetening. Also parsnips or sugar beet was scraped down into tiny pieces and dried to be used as a substitute for tea; we had milk in it if we had any.

Even the Germans were starving by the time the Liberation came as all they had to live on were issued "Iron rations".

Many people used hose pipes for tyres on their bicycles, but I never did. I bartered for a needle and twine and sewed my tyres together as they wore down. I also had tyres from another bicycle and managed to get right through the Occupation like that. The needle was the type used for upholstery and is still a treasured possession of Mrs Bisson's.

A young lad was called before the Germans, and while he was waiting to be interviewed he spotted a list of names of people who had been named as having a crystal wireless set. He put it in his pocket and fled, finally giving it to a police constable. A lot of people were spared punishment by this brave act.

On our Wedding Day, it was difficult for me to get to St Martin's from St. Brelade as there was no petrol for cars. Mr. Pitcher had horses in St. Helier, but it was too far to send them for us, so my father brother, Best Man and myself cycled to St. Helier, went by pony and carriage to St. Martin's Chapel. were married, went back by pony and carriage to St. Helier for photographs to be taken and then back to St Martin's for the reception at my wife's family home.

The meal had to be in two sittings as there were so many guests. the people of St Martin's were marvellous. I was accepted as one of them A reception with no food - not on your life! Food appeared from nowhere as everyone had got together and brought milk, cake, eggs - even butter - and we had a wedding cake made from corn I had gleaned from the fields. The meal was Rabbit Pie with vegetables, it was wonderful! Everyone had been so kind, even today 50 years on I am still grateful to them!