When war erupted between Britain and Germany in August 1914, the authorities were swift to respond.

Within days of the Kaiser's Army invading Belgium, troops armed with rifles and bayonets rounded up what were then called "enemy aliens".

In Worthing, the aliens primarily consisted of German and Austrian nationals, the majority employed in the catering trade, mainly as waiters.

With little Human Rights legislation to worry about, the Government rounded them up and marched them under armed guard along Chapel Road to the railway station, from where they were sent to Newbury racecourse in Berkshire, which had been turned into a giant internment camp.

Here, they were vetted and those deemed a risk to national security were imprisoned for the duration.

It was a grim time and no doubt a number of innocent people were held under lock and key but Worthing and its population did not suffer from acts of sabotage.

Just as now, the public was gripped with hysteria following often exaggerated reports of German soldiers carrying out atrocities against Belgian civilians.

Crude cartoons of troops spearing babies on the points of bayonets were published and refugees fuelled fears with stories of spies in their midst.

Madame Bouton, from Charleroi, told how a hotel owner from her home town was shot by the Germans for sending a message by carrier pigeon.

It was alleged that enemy troops were also disguising themselves as British soldiers and even priests to infiltrate Allied positions.

Such stories resulted in a local butcher making a patriotic point by refusing to advertise his sausage as German, while another Worthing shopkeeper with a foreign name had offensive posters pasted on his premises.

By the end of August 1914, about 60 Germans and Austrians had registered under the Aliens Act, prompting the comment: "It will probably surprise many to learn the extent of our enemy population."

Worthing magistrates, now effectively sitting as a military tribunal, dealt with a regular stream of people who had failed to register.

They were either fined or sent under armed escort to Newbury.

Attitudes hardened even further when wounded soldiers started to arrive from the front line, including medics who were shot despite wearing Red Cross armbands.

One woman by the name of Mary Long wrote: "Oh, that I had sons. Every one of them would go and fight for the right to be free.

"Our little corner of Sussex has responded gallantly to its country's call but we want more men if we are to drive back the Teuton vandals of Berlin and destroy the German horde."

When enemy warships shelled east coast towns, resulting in widespread death and destruction, the hatred for everything German reached fever pitch.

Townsfolk were urged not to put up Christmas trees because it was originally a German custom and people refused to purchase German-made toys.

Carl Adolf Seebold, proprietor of the Kursaal cinema on the seafront was forced to change the name to the Dome as public anger mounted.

It became libellous to say somebody was German or even had a German background.

Almost 90 years on, that same whiff of hysteria is in the air again.