As the Channel Islands Military Museum marks its 35th anniversary, Emily Moore meets Damien Horn, one of the co-founders, to discover why it is still important to keep telling the real stories behind the Occupation
“IT was a day like any other when, suddenly, a knock at the door heralded the arrival of some German soldiers. As my grandmother went to answer the door, my aunt scurried out of the back door, a big cooking pot under her arm. It looked as though she was heading out to the communal ovens but, in reality, the pot contained the family’s crystal set.”
It is a story which will resonate with many who lived in Jersey during the German Occupation. But while many Islanders would have heard those stories, often injected with a dose of humour by their relatives who experienced that time, few probably took them to heart in quite the same way that Damien Horn did.
“My father’s side of the family lived here during the Occupation and I grew up listening to their stories of life during that time and their encounters with the German soldiers,” explained the owner of the Channel Islands Military Museum.
“When you recall or recount those stories now, it sounds like something you would see in Fawlty Towers or ‘Allo ‘Allo but it would have been terrifying at the time, as anyone caught with an offending item or doing something they shouldn’t risked prison or even deportation.”
But it was another of his grandfather’s stories which perhaps goes some way to explaining why, when he co-founded the St Ouen museum 35 years ago, he wanted to ensure that the information was presented in a certain way.
“On another occasion, my dad and granddad were on the beach at West Park, collecting limpets in a bucket,” said Damien. “They were approached by some Germans, who wanted to know why they were on the beach. When my granddad explained that they were collecting limpets, the officer took his ID card from him but allowed him to continue his activity.
“A while later, there was a knock on my grandparents’ door and, standing on the doorstep, was a German officer bearing a loaf of black bread. He had brought it for the family because he thought the limpets were for their dinner. As it turned out, they were for the cat.”
But hearing about that act of kindness made Damien question more about the difficult war years.
“I want the museum to depict the time as it was, rather than by showing people what they might want to see,” he reflected. “There is no doubt that Islanders lived under hardship, strains and pressures but the situation in Jersey was very different from, say, that of France where there was a very active resistance.
“Here, I would say there was an uneasy rub. While the Islanders didn’t like the Germans, they were living next door to them and, although they might have ignored them for a while, after some time, it was inevitable that they would acknowledge their presence and say ‘good morning’.
“There is no denying that some people had bad experiences with the officers and soldiers but it is also true that a lot of the Germans here had a human side, which they displayed from time to time. It is also important to remember that most of the Germans here were not members of the Nazi party.
“I collect Soldbücher [a means of identification and personnel record carried by all German soldiers] and only a fraction of the books I have list the soldier concerned as being a member of the Nazi party.”
While Damien’s fascination – “my wife calls it an obsession” – with the period has endured since early childhood, his professional career started in an altogether different environment.
“I started in a bank based on The Esplanade,” he recalled. “At that time, there was a scrap-metal merchants at the end of the road, so I would spend many lunchtimes, dressed in my three-piece suit, rifling through the items that had been brought in to see whether there was anything from the Occupation.
“I remember finding a set of German spanners on one occasion, which I added to my collection.”

With his collection ever growing, it was in October 1988 that Damien, together with another military enthusiast with whom he was initially in partnership, started work transforming the bunker at the end of the Five Mile Road into a museum.
“Having gained approval to turn a German bunker into a space for storing and displaying German equipment, the work to clean and fit out the premises began,” said Damien, who recalled opening the door to find sand half-way up the doorframe and rubbish strewn, almost waist-high, throughout the space.
“It took seven months to empty it, paint everything and install the electrics and cabinets before we opened for the first time on 28 May 1989,” he said. “At that time, tourism was very different, and St Ouen’s Bay was full of visitors enjoying attractions such as Château Plaisir and The New Mediterranean. The Five Mile Road was a place to visit and we had a steady flow of tourists.”
But while many of the entertainment venues have disappeared over the years, the Channel Islands Military Museum has continued to open every day throughout the season, with the displays evolving in line with Damien’s ever-growing collection.
“Anyone with a real interest in history will learn something from a visit here,” he said.
“I’ve added a lot of the personal stories which have been shared with me over the years, and if you read those stories and listen to the commentary running alongside the exhibitions, you will get a real understanding of those Occupation years.”
The exhibits themselves consist of memorabilia which Paul has been collecting since he was seven.
“My father owned a gents’ outfitters in town, so, as customers were paying for their trousers, he would ask them whether they had any German documents or equipment stowed away in their shed or attic,” he explained. “And I am a pest. I always ask people for anything they might have. My name is very much associated with gathering up other people’s ‘rubbish’.”
That persistent approach has paid off, with a museum – and a private collection – filled with enigma machines, German helmets, guns, ammunition, binoculars and documents including, soldiers’ record books and Islanders’ ID cards and sentence sheets.
“A lot of people who visit the museum say that they have never seen so much German equipment before,” he said. “These displays are designed to showcase a very important period of our recent history.
“If I hadn’t collected these items over the years, there is a good chance that a lot of what you see here would have been dumped but, to me, it is so important to preserve these items so that this part of history is never lost.”
And while the flow of items finding its way to Damien has slowed in recent years, more and more history continues to find its way into the museum.
“You never know where the next items will come from but I hope they will keep on coming,” he said. “I am always looking for documents and photographs which pertain to civilians and give that little bit of insight into their life. Through ID cards and sentence sheets, you remember those individuals and ensure that their stories live on.
“There isn’t really room for anything else on the walls or in the cabinets but I still manage to add items to the displays every week.
“Building this collection and sharing these stories has been a lifetime’s work and I have no intention of stopping now. This is something I am hugely passionate about, and proud to have put together.”







