A battered scarlet exercise book, held in New College Library’s Special Collections, offers a fascinating and surprising insight into the lived experiences of the School’s students during the Second World War. Recording the nightly activities of those who watched over New College during air raids, the ‘Fire Watchers’ Log Book’ offers a glimpse into the humour and dedication of those students that occupied the towers and perched on the rooves of the Library (now Martin Hall) and the Assembly Hall tasked with identifying and eliminating fires.
The succinct entries – more often than not citing ‘nothing to report’ – evidence the camaraderie that existed between the volunteers guarding their beloved School. The scribbled notes are peppered with good-natured rivalry and vague references to the night’s frivolities (‘A good time was had by all’). Student fire-watchers were nevertheless subject to assignments; wartime or not, deadlines loomed. In February 1941 those on duty were likely particularly grateful for the lack of enemy activity, having earmarked their shift for other pressing matters: ‘Who wrote an essay and who wrote a sermon until 3a.m? … Who? Who? Who?’. Writing in a special edition of the New College Bulletin to mark the University’s 400th anniversary in 1983, one former fire-watcher recalled with nostalgia the tired hours he spent essay-writing while on duty:
Who in the 1980’s can claim to know every step and stone of their building, from the lowest cellar to the flagstaffs of the towers and the roof of the Assembly Hall? Who has sunbathed on that same roof? Who has sat down in the Library at nine o’clock at night and handed in a completed History essay at nine o’clock the next morning? (I make no judgement on its quality) (AA 1 16 3, New College Bulletin, 1983, p. 32)
With shifts lasting from 9pm to 8am, those on watch snatched what sleep they could. While D. T. Webster’s log book entry reads like a review of a satisfying night’s sleep in a B&B (‘A grand night’s sleep! May undisturbed slumbers be the lot of future watchers’), others fared less well. Summarising the night of 13 – 14 February, one student reported wryly – ‘1.00-3.00 Sound of enemy aircraft turned out to be A.H.M.T snoring’. With six on duty the following week, it was noted that it was ‘Rather a crush and in spite of this it was cold. No one slept until 4.30’.
A distinctly theological bent pervades the entries, with niche jokes that would still draw a smile from students and staff today. The issue of rest – or the lack of it – is again a common theme, with one watcher bemoaning that their companion ‘preaches even when he sleeps!!’. A sample of the night’s conversation is found in the entry for 28 February to 1 March 1941, which reads – ‘D. Mackean, with Calvinistic aggression, defended Election against the “heretics”’, before adding ‘He put most of us to sleep’. In typical New College fashion, Latin and Greek is to be found in among the log book entries. Biblical puns are likewise prominent, with Psalm 12 quoted to summarise the evening’s events: ‘They speak vanity every one with his neighbour’.
At times those ‘on guard’ longed for some excitement to break up the monotony of their night-time watches. Writing on 31 January 1941, K. Mclean noted despondently ‘No enemy activity; not even a burglar. Worst luck!!’. Less than two months later the watchers undoubtedly wished for less excitement. The entry recounting the night of 13 March reads:
This might be the longest alert of the war – so far – 9pm-6.25am. Considerable Ack-Ack activity from time to time, so I did not think it advisable to have men up on the roof. Watch was maintained from various points inside.
The night of 7 April was, according to the log book, the ‘Worst night so far’.
Gun flashes to the west. Continued for some time. Enemy ’planes coming in from N.E … Later gun fire was heard from all directions round college … Between the hours of 01.00 and 02.00 two great cracks were heard in the Leith area. Large red flashes and what seemed debris, with tongue of flames helped on by screams from Princes St. were observed by watchers on the towers.
This same night was described in detail in a report headed ‘Easter Vacation’ that was archived alongside the log book:
Men posted and worked well, in relays. Team very efficient. But with shrapnel falling around and bombs bursting near it was found to be too risky to maintain men on the high roofs without steel helmets.
Suggested that if ‘picture’ room is to be used as ‘headquarters’ six pegs should be provided on which may be hung Steel Helmets, Gas Masks, Goggles and Overalls for immediate use during an Alert.
A separate report – entitled simply ‘Criticisms’ – is a reminder of the real danger that students faced when watching over the building. The list methodically critiques the system in place, highlighting (among other things) the inadequacy of the torches available, the poor water supply, and the precarious way in which watchers were forced to clamber upon the Library roof.
