大象传媒

This story was submitted to the 大象传媒 People鈥檚 War site by Wymondham Learning Centre on behalf of the author who fully understand the site's terms and conditions.

Soldiers were stationed over the Co-op Brush factory, which our mother鈥檚 bedroom window overlooked. We would watch the Scottish regiment as they paraded, piped and marched down the drive. Bren-gun carriers would park down New Road. Local people often gave hot cocoa to the soldiers in the sentry boxes. Coffee was unobtainable and roasted ground parsnips were used as a substitute.

I, Sheila, remember stealing 2/- from my mother鈥檚 housekeeping so that our younger brother could have a ride on a tank during War Weapons Week.

Italians walked past our house from Kimberly Hall. They were prisoners of war and usually they were quite friendly, although one or two did spit occasionally.

Indoor shelters were in place in our front room, and there was an Anderson shelter in the garden with a corrugated top. There were steps for access. It was difficult to keep the blackout curtains together, as we were not allowed to show any light.

We tried to follow the better off into the butchers so that we could have the corned beef rations that they didn鈥檛 want. Rations included 2 ounces of butter, 2 ounces of cheese and grey bread. Dried egg powder was available. Milk was delivered from the local farm and coal was delivered for 拢2 per ton. A canteen was available in Church Street, where the Abbey Hotel stands now. Mothers and daughters would take turns to man it.

Meals included rabbit pie, stews, spam, dumplings and dried egg omelettes, all of which were cooked in the oven in the wall. Our young brother always sucked the gravy through the pie funnel. We used to cycle everywhere and sometimes found eggs and green tomatoes if we were near a farm. A canning machine was available in the WI hall. You could take your home-grown fruit and vegetables and this would be canned for you. Yanks provided sweets. I, Jill, remember waiting for ages in a queue at Alfie Harvey鈥檚 shop, wearing a pixie hood, which I filled to the brim.

Our washing was done in the copper, which was stoked with any old rubbish. We used blue bags, soda crystals and Fairy, which was a hard soap.

In the evenings we listened to the wireless using an accumulator, which had to be recharged at G. Smiths or at Standleys. For lighting we would use gas lamps or candles.

I, Jill, recall seeing, from my bedroom window, a plane shot down in a ball of flame. I wanted to see a swastika down in the muck but, when I arrived on the scene, the remains were dull grey with a black cross and no swastika.

The doctor had to be paid to do a home visit. There was a club to be paid into and the money was collected at the forge on Friarscroft Lane.

When it came to clothes, I, Sheila, had the best ones and Jill had the hand-me-downs. The Women鈥檚 Institute Hall was sometimes open for clothing exchanges. We made lots of clothes and turned shirts etc. We even had a coat turned by Mrs Hunt who lived in Pople Street. Half a parachute, bought at work, made a nightdress, knickers and petticoats!

A quantity of stuff was dumped in a big pit at the bottom of Tuttles Lane (West) by the Americans and many people went to see if they could salvage any items.

I, Jill, was evacuated out of Wymondham when everybody else was coming in. My father died and my aunt and uncle took me to Holme Hale, where they had a large farmhouse and six evacuees from East London. The evacuees had no idea of country life. They plucked chickens when they were still alive and pulled up two acres of sugar beet, proudly coming in to say that they had weeded the field. The evacuees didn鈥檛 care for Aunt Hilda鈥檚 cooking, as they preferred `a dry dinner`, which was taking a round of bread down to the fish shop and 2d to buy chips.

We did not possess many toys, but we had an Aunt Edie, who was a Salvation Army officer in Guernsey. She received word that Hitler was on the way and, as she had collected toys for a sale, shipped home two crates for us. When Aunt Edie, Uncle Ted鈥檚 sister, was home on leave from the Salvation Army, she always said grace. One evening an evacuee said that he would say it.
鈥淟ord be praised, my belly is raised high above the table.
And I鈥檒l be damned if I ain鈥檛 crammed as full as I am able!鈥�
Aunt Edie was definitely not impressed!

I, Alan, remember going with my father to Hethel aerodrome and to Ellingham to pick up swill and leftovers for pigs. We saw all the planes ready to go on a raid but two collided in mid-air and blew up - with no survivors.

I heard a doodle-bug go over Northfield Gardens and hid under the shelter in the front room, but it didn鈥檛 explode until it reached Wicklewood.

When I was little, I remember my mother cycling to Browick School with me on the back. A German plane came over with a machine-gun and my mother threw the bike down and flattened us to the ground.

My uncle lived with my parents and brought home two Irish Labourers, to give them time to sort out their lodgings. They ended up staying for five years.

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