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During the war I lived in the East End of London and I worked in a factory. It was a box making factory, but we made packaging for medical supplies for the Forces. They had to be specially done so that none of the stuff in it broke, so it had to be well padded. It was quite interesting work and I worked with a nice lot of girls. Being in the East End, very often our work was interrupted by the daylight raids when we all had to go down into the shelter at the factory. Of course, we were all on piecework and if we weren’t earning any money because we were stuck down in the shelter, then we didn’t get very much money at the end of the week! And that was a bit toughi f you wanted to buy yourself a dress or a coat — provided you also had the coupons. But we were all in the same boat and tried to cheer each other up. Husbands and brothers were lost but people just carried on. What else could they do? We wanted to see the war through, hoping we would win it, although of course, no-one ever knew.

As the war progressed, we had the V1s and the V2s which caused a lot of destruction. My grandmother got bombed out in Hackney and she had to come and live with us. She was never quite the same afterwards, but we all managed to struggle on. We had one or two near misses. A V2 dropped near the factory and I was sent home from work because they said it had dropped in the main High Road, and that was where I lived. When I got nearer home, I couldn’t believe the devastation. The front door was off its hinges and the windows were broken. Mum had been cooking and the basin of dripping she had been using was broken with dripping all over the place, the tea caddy was up the passage, and I couldn’t find anybody anywhere. We had already been blasted several times and poor old Mum had managed to cope with it, but this time she went over to Hackney where Dad worked, and finally got him home. My poor grandmother was shattered, having been through it before. We all managed to get things cleared up, but by the time the war ended, we were all a bit fatigued, to say the least. We couldn’t believe we had come through it.

One or two funny things happened. A V2 dropped on Hackney Marshes where Dad had his allotment, and we went over there. Among other things, he was growing Brussels sprouts and when we got there, we found that poor old Dad’s shed was completely flattened and that all that was left of the sprouts were the stalks. The sprouts had been completely blown off! Dad couldn’t believe it and the things he said about Hitler were nobody’s business! All his hard work all gone.

My sister and I joined the Women’s Junior Air Corps because we would get fast training so that when we were called up - and it was getting near the time when that would probably happen - we would be able to get into the WRAF, which is where we both wanted to go. We were coming home from Air Corps one night when a V1 came over and we threw ourselves on the ground because the engine had cut out, and we knew that happened moments before this thing hit the deck. We’d been told that if it was that near, we should lie on the ground, so we did. The thing dropped in the street next to us and all the debris and stuff came flying over the tops of the houses. A bicycle wheel was among the debris and funnily enough, it landed on its tyre and rolled in front of my sister and myself. It rolled and rolled and rolled — it just didn’t stop! My sister and I looked at each other and although we were scared because of the V2, we just burst out laughing. We just couldn’t believe such a funny thing could happen!

Another time when I was on my way to work, a V2 cut out and I dived into somebody’s front garden as there was no shelter near-by. I just hoped nobody would come out and see me as they would have wondered what on earth I was doing there!

My fiance was abroad for 3 years in the royal Signals and he only came home once during while he was in the Army. He had a months leave but because of shipping problems in the Channel, he got an extra 2 weeks which was very lucky for us. When the war ended he was demobbed almost immediately because he was a trained elecrician and they were badly needed in war-torn Britain. I planned to dress myself up in my best clothes and meet him at the station but he turned up at about 2.30 in the morning! There was me with my hair in curlers - well, I'd just dragged them out before he actually saw me! - wondering what on earth he must be thinking I looked like when I hadn't seen him for 3 years. We didn't know what to say to each other as it was like strangers meeting, and all I said, "Oh, Hello. Home again?" We'd all grown up during the war and were not as immature as we'd been before. We had known each other since I was a baby when I was pushed around in his pram (he was 2 years older) and we got married 3 weeks later!

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