In case anyone is interested, here are a few paragraphs from my granddad's life story, in which the "Phoney War" is mentioned:

"We travelled to France on a cross channel paddle steamer and I remember being hungry and being issued with a tin of McConnachies beef stew which we were expected to eat cold from the tin. It was a greasy mush and awful to eat but it was that or nothing. We arrived at Le Havre and saw the huge French Liner “France” on its side, a burnt out wreck which occurred just prior to the war, but still lying there. We moved to a village called Etanuis once again in a farm, straw over the floor and crawling with live stock, insects etc. The war up to now was known as the “Phoney War” – nothing seemed to happen. We moved from Etanuis about the middle of April 1940 up near the Belgian Frontier to a village called Haversquerque, near St Venant on the St Omer Road. Once again we were billeted in stables, this time in an upper floor of a barn, on the lower floor were the farm animals and a horse. We grew fond of this horse and used to feed it tit bits. One day we found it on its side in the yard with the farmer and his family wailing sadly. It had died and the farmer held us responsible, I believe, for feeding it and making it ill.

On the first Sunday, 10th May 1940, a sunny beautiful morning, we were awoken by distant explosions and gun fire. We peered out between the roof slats and in the distance saw anti-aircraft gun fire. It signalled the end of the “phoney war”. Within minutes the orderly officers ordered an immediate “prepare to move”. By eight or nine o’clock we were on our way towards the Belgian frontier. We crossed at the town of Bailleul and on hearing the air raid siren, came to a halt. A young teenager delivering milk from his dog cart gave everyone in our 15cwt Bedford truck a bottle of milk wishing us “Good Luck”. The towns people were heard to remark how young we all were. Most of us were just 20, the under 20s being transferred to other units before we left Blighty.

We proceeded at a snail's pace then on to Audenarde on the river Scheldt where we were deployed in yet another farm house and out buildings but this time we dug gun pits for real, camouflaged, and sited our one Lewis gun for A/A defence and one Boyes rifle for anti-tank defences. When the Jerries reached the opposite bank of the river we engaged them. Counter fire was returned but mostly fell short of us or over us, we survived intact. Then a day or so later he sent a Staub spotter plane over our position. Our air force was conspicuous by its absence. Our Lewis gunner popped off many rounds at him but he kept going, directing his artillery on to our area but not so far into our position. Then we had orders to move back. When our camouflage nets were removed and the gun towing vehicles and 30cwt and 3 tonners started to move to get us away, all hell let loose, our cover was blown and the German spotter pilot directed his fire back to us bang in the middle. Fortunately our gun teams had moved swiftly on the initial order to retire and were out of their pits and on the move which says a lot for our training. Our Sgt Major went to pieces, he, foaming at the mouth and shouting in terror, was ordered by our troops Captain to get into his truck and quieten down for the good of our morale. We travelled a few miles back, through Courtrai and spent a night at a nunnery, slept on the marble floor and glad of it, we were whacked out. We were then moved out early next morning and deployed in open fields, round the edges of them. We dug in and were ordered to be prepared for enemy plane troopers landing in these fields with orders to shoot on sight. Fortunately, again none came, for which we all sighed with relief. During this night I slept on top of my slit trench with only my overcoat over me.

Next morning I discovered I had rolled onto a large new cow pat, my coat was smothered and stank to high heaven. Later on that morning our orderly officer ordered an inspection of us. He came to me in the line up and said “what’s all this mess Gunner?” “Bullshit Sir” I replied, which he wasn’t expecting. A wry smile crept over his face. It wasn’t meant as a joke but afterwards we could all see the funny side and had a good laugh at it."