大象传媒

I was 17 at the outbreak of war and working as a shorthand typist at a firm making moulds for the rubber industry. One of our clients sent us some rubber mouthpieces to insert between our teeth to protect them from bomb blast. I took mine down the shelter during the first night raid and they were certainly effective in stopping my teeth chattering!

The house where I was living had a bomb fall in the garden which brought down the roof of the single storey kitchen where we were in a Morrison shelter. This was a type of iron table and protected us from the falling ceiling. The blast made some windows shatter out and some inwards, also it ripped wallpaper off the stairwell in almost a spiral pattern.

I went to work the following day, after washing the plaster out of my hair and could not understand why I felt so terrible, never having known about the effects of shock.

I soon felt worse when I was taken to Dudley Road hospital suffering from diphtheria. I was in a ward on an upper floor and the hospital seemed to bounce, when the naval gun in the park was fired. The ward was lit with the fires of the burning city. I remember one of the nurses watching at the window and telling us that the Market Hall was on fire.

During all this time I was training with the St Johns Ambulance although the minimum age was 18. I qualified, received my certificate and was sent to a First Aid Post. We were given lectures there during the waiting time, one of which sticks in my memory - it was from a retired sea captain who explained how the convoys had to make zig-zag progress during the First World War to avoid submarines.

We had to roll bandages on little contraptions with a handle and learn how to decontaminate people from gas pollution, practicing on small Boy Scouts. One of the poison gasses we were supposed to be able to identify was one smelling of geraniums, phosgene. I don't think any of us knew what a geranium smelled like and to this day do not think they have a smell.

I transferred to ambulances and was assigned an ambulance and driver. This was in addition to going to work and so it meant night duty. When not on call we slept fully clothed on bunk beds in a big shelter. I caught scabies from the blankets which was very distressing.

We were issued with tracheotomy kits and taught how to use them in case of facial injuries obstructing breathing. Each turn of duty we had to check our equipment, water supply etc. which was very basic by today鈥檚 standards.

One night that I remember we were standing by the ambulance watching a "dog fight" with the planes overhead when I heard a noise which I thought was one of the dispatch riders' motor bikes coming in. My driver knew better and threw me to the ground and rolled me under the ambulance, as the noise was one of the enemy planes machine-gunning the ambulance station.

The next night when I reported for duty I found a pile of rubbish where our station used to be.

All my friends were joining the Forces and I thought I would like to join the WAAF. Somewhere along the line I was asked if I was afraid of cowes. Living in Birmingham I didn鈥檛 come across many so I said "no" and found myself in the Women鈥檚 Land Army. I was sent for training at a pleasant farm in Wormleighton, Warwickshire with other girls and we learned to milk cows, (and learned that they could kick) work with horses, plant cabbages, hurl manglewurzls and other useful stuff.

When I was considered trained I was sent to a farm near Knowle and learned what really hard work was. I had to scrub the milking equipment with caustic soda, no rubber gloves in those days, and my poor hands were so raw I rubbed them with tractor grease as cosmetics were almost unobtainable. On leave I marvelled at the bottles of milk on doorsteps - what an easy way to get it......

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