Identity Cards

Rumours that a ban on visitors to the coastal areas was about to be enforced made the hotel very quiet with hardly any guests staying. We were issued with Identity Cards. If you went out of Brighton by road or train you had to show your card on your return, confirming that you resided in this area.
Barbara Chapman - Boxing Day Baby

Our firm had obtained many contracts from the Ministry of Works, which involved moving further away from the town, and all the materials were now delivered by the Ministry of Works. We had to make our own way to the sites, which included prisoner of war camps, fire stations and land army hostels, to name but a few. To reach our destinations we had special identity passes and railway warrants and, waving our passes, we sailed out through check points which made us feel very important. I am sure that in our way we contributed to the war effort.
Tim Wren - Flying Sparks

I had lost my identity card in 1943 and went into Brighton to renew it. This meant that the new one had a new number and was stamped the 21st June 1943...

Brighton came into view and to me it smelt wonderful. Just the thought of being home was enough and I could not get there quickly enough. As I arrived at the barrier a policeman asked to see my identity card, which I duly produced. I took this as a matter of course until I was grilled for some moments on why, if I was a Brightonian, did I have a card with a Wrexham address on it? And what was I doing in civilian clothes? I could see it was going to be my luck that after getting so close to home I was going to end up in prison without a choice.

I explained about being a Bevin Boy, which was to no avail. The identity card had nothing on it to say that I was a Bevin Boy. The policeman just did not want to know. Then at last, an old neighbour, who was a ticket collector at the station, came to my rescue. I pointed to Mr Lee and said, 'He will vouch for me.' Over he came and peered at me, and then at the policeman. 'Yes, he's OK, that's Les Wilson the Bevin Boy. He lives in Manton Road. I know him well.' Thank God for Mr Lee who saved the situation for me. For one horrible moment, I thought that maybe he would not recognise me and then I would have been sunk.
Michael and Leslie Wilson - A far cry from a white apron: The story of a Brighton Bevin Boy

The south side of Brighton sea front was sealed off with barbed wire and tank traps during the Second World War. The beach was strewn with land mines. Western Road on the south side was also sealed off after dark, with an armed guard at each street running down to the sea. Residents such as our family were under curfew and had to remain indoors except under extreme circumstances. I considered my Boys' Brigade activities 'extreme circumstances' and came to an arrangement with the platoon on guard duty to let me through, as our activities took place most week nights, invariably after dark.

Challenged one dark night, I replied, "It's only me." The guard answered, "And who's 'me'?" The platoon had been changed. Under no circumstances would he let me through. Little Preston Street runs parallel to Preston Street. For some reason a guard did not stand sentry here, perhaps they thought it was a dead end. At the time, half-way down the street a passage, which is now sealed off, linked the two streets. It was pitch black, but the route was well-known to me as it became, when 'needs must', my illegal entry. Mum and dad never knew of this. I suspect they would have been most annoyed, thinking I would be shot!
Tim Wren - Flying Sparks