THE Home Guard unit in Cropredy, near Banbury, provided protection for villagers during the Second World War – and, it seems, plenty of laughs.

One of the platoon’s tasks was to set up road blocks on the three entrances to the village.

But the favoured method – large tree trunks, which swivelled across the road on a wheel fixed to one end – hardly inspired confidence.

It wasn’t until the men had seen the might of German tanks that they realised how useless their barricades would be.

There was more amusement when one of the men, supposedly on constant lookout, had his bike pinched from under his nose.

The stories are told in a booklet of wartime memories compiled by Ray Cherry and Jean Marchington.

Cropredy was thought vulnerable to attack because it was surrounded by RAF airfields and was near aluminium and ironstone works, both engaged in vital war work.

But the nearest it came to being attacked was when a bomb was dropped just outside the village, leaving a 20ft crater.

The first batch of evacuees from Bow, in East London – a coachload of mothers and babies – quickly became homesick and left for the capital after two weeks.

But others who arrived later found it easier to adapt to country life and some stayed for many years.

According to the booklet, there was a good community spirit in the village.

The baker and Co-op store kept mouths fed, while Women’s Institute members bought a canning machine and supplied tins of fruit and vegetables.

Many villagers kept pigs and hens in their gardens – every bit of the pig was eaten, except the bladder which, when blown up, “made a useful football”.

The village pubs opened when they had beer, and the piano was played non-stop with wartime songs.

Villagers also enjoyed swimming in the river, diving off the bridge, skating on the frozen canal, watching films and dancing in the village hall.

Like everywhere else, celebrations were held to mark the end of the war in 1945.

Women who had been saving sugar, fat and flour for the occasion made cakes and jam tarts, races were quickly organised in a field and wood was collected for a bonfire.

There was excitement as villagers danced and sang around the fire.

However, the evening ended on a sad note, with the news that the son of a village pub landlord had been killed in a plane crash.

Any more wartime memories from the Home Front to share with readers?