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Mrs Dorothy Smith’s World War 2 reminiscences of rural Lancashire.

Dorothy- Roy Smith’s wife also was out in the country during the war and here are some of the things that came into her mind when asked about those times.

I was born in 1938, so I was quite young when the war started. We lived in a small cul-de-sac off Cadley Causeway, here in Fulwood. When the sirens went we all had to run to the air-raid shelter, which stood on spare land (now with four houses on) next to the Co-op. stores (now a Spar shop). As it was a long way round to get to it, the neighbours opposite let everyone go through their garden — which led onto the spare land. Another neighbour, Mr Mercer, was the Air Raid Warden and he would tell us when the ‘All Clear’ siren had sounded so that we could all come out and return home. Sometimes Mum and Dad and I would hide in the pantry under the stairs instead of going to the shelter, and I can remember asking if we were playing hide-and-seek!
I remember having to go down steps to get into the shelter and there were benches where we sat, talked and sang. Luckily I was too young to be frightened. From the outside the shelter just looked like a large, grassy bank. I also remember an octagonal-shaped block-house (some people called them pill-boxes) on the field behind our house and near to Tag Lane.

My grandparents had Ingol Post Office and General Store and they had their own shelter in the long back garden. It was of the same design as the public one, but much smaller. Being before the days of fridges in homes, my grandparents used it for several years after the war as a cold store for the butter, lard etc. which was bought in bulk for the shop. I spent a lot of time at Ingol Post Office as Mum always had to help serve in the shop.
Several German prisoners were billeted at a farm nearby and I remember one man in particular: he was always nice to me, and the grown-ups called him Jerry. He and several others of these prisoners later married Preston girls and never went back to Germany.

Many years later, when I was at work, Jerry came into our office to collect the post. Amazingly I recognised him and he me!! We were delighted to meet again and, naturally, I called him Jerry. When he had gone a colleague went mad at me for being so disrespectful — but I really hadn’t known that wasn’t his real name. It turned out that my colleague had married one of the other prisoners and knew ‘my’ German well. I was horrified at my gaffe and couldn’t wait for him to come again to make an apology. However, he had understood and not minded at all as he knew I was only a little girl when we’d met.

Ration Books — you couldn’t buy food, clothing, sweets etc. without coupons. Children were only allowed two and a half ounces of sweets or chocolate per week. I was lucky because Grandma’s sweets for the shop came in large glass jars, she would let me have any odd ones that didn’t weigh up to the two and a half ounces. Also, my uncle — who was in the Army — used to save up all his chocolate ration for me. No wonder I like chocolate!
To help keep us nourished we were sometimes given a brown paper bag at school, containing a mixture of cocoa powder and sugar. We used to eat some of it going home from school, using a wet finger. We could also buy liquorice at a local shop. I didn’t like the black sticks, but we all loved the sort that resembled a small twig. When sucked and chewed it went all stringy. You rarely see it nowadays.

I remember going in Grandad’s car to Woodplumpton and Catforth, looking for farms that were willing to sell eggs ‘on the black market’. They were a great treat, but I also liked bread soaked in reconstituted dried egg, then fried.

We dug up half the garden and grew our own veg., plus raspberries and strawberries. I don’t remember ever going hungry. However, two of Mum’s aunts lived in America and they believed it when the newspapers said the British people were starving. Every month they would send us a food parcel and occasionally a clothes parcel. They were only allowed to send second-hand clothes, so they would buy new ones, wash them and then send them! The parcels had always been opened and the contents checked.

In the food parcels there was always a tin of bacon: it looked like streaky bacon and was rolled round and round. It was delicious! They also sent us butter: this was creamy-white in colour and came in an oblong, which was sealed in a thick, clear plastic bag (we’d never seen a plastic bag before!). On top, in the middle, was an orange-coloured capsule. We had to break the capsule by squeezing the unopened bag to release the colouring, then knead the bag until it was all mixed in and the butter was a nice pale yellow! The sweets they called candies, and tasted scented. There were tinned peaches (which Mum saved for when we had visitors) and rice — which I hated but Dad loved. As a builder Dad was in a reserved occupation and was sent to work on building aeroplanes at the Dick Kerr Works in Strand Road. Being an outdoor man he hated it and as a means of escape for a short while, he would come home on his bicycle every lunchtime. Mum would cook Dad a hot meal, plate it and put in on the floor near a door. My job was to swing the door to and fro , wafting his dinner to get it cool enough to eat!!

In the black-out it really was dark outside. We had to walk between Ingol and Cadley every evening, and it could be quite dangerous. One man I knew was walking along, met someone coming the other way, politely stepped off the kerb to let them pass and was immediately knocked down by a car. He ended up in hospital, of course. You literally couldn’t see your hand in front of your face if there was no moonlight. Cars moved very slowly and quietly, and their headlamps were mostly blacked out with black paper or tape: only a narrow slit was left for light.

The black-out curtains at our windows were made into rain capes for me after the war.
I hated and was scared of my Mickey Mouse gas mask.
Several refugee children and their mums were billeted with families in our avenue. I remember one little boy being very naughty — even his mum couldn’t control him. We all had a day out at Blackpool and I remember us all having to get off a tram because he wouldn’t behave!

Toys at Christmas were always second-hand. One year I received a lovely baby doll with only half a left arm, but I loved her for years. Another year Mum and Dad managed to get a lovely dolls’ house for me. Both presents came from families in Ingol.

After the war, when everyone celebrated V.E. Day, Cadley held a Rose Queen Festival with Margaret Irvine elected queen - her throne stood on top of the air-raid shelter!

When the war was over I remember the first banana boat to arrive in Preston Dock: Mum and I queued up for hours on Preston covered market to buy some. To this day, every time I peel a banana I remember the thrill and that very first taste!

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