大象传媒

When war was declared I was living with my parents in central Birmingham, and I was almost 10 years old.

In September 1939 I had to go with other children from my area, and assemble in St Marks School. We were each given a gas mask and then walked in a crocodile to New Street Station, and put on the train to Ledbury, leaving our parents behind. We were evacuees. My parents stayed in Birmingham and both worked in 鈥榤unitions.

When we arrived at Ledbury, we were taken to a village nearby called Little Marcle, and had to assemble in the local school. The local people then came and chose which evacuees they wanted to stay with them in their homes.

I was chosen with another girl to go to the home of a farming family called Cowell in nearby Aylton. In the family was the Mother, who dressed like Queen Victoria, two daughters, a son and their cousin 鈥� none of them were married and they all lived in the farm house. They were very nice people.

The Mother (Mrs Cowell), taught me how to darn, she was wonderful at it and used to darn all of the household linen. They involved me in everything from killing a chicken to helping with the hop picking. I had a lovely time.

The cousin Betty was a school teacher in Hereford. She helped me with my studies, which got me into Ledbury Grammar School.

I stayed with this family until July 1942. During that time I only saw my Mother twice. I saw my Father a little more often, when he could save enough of his rationed petrol for the journey on his motor bike. He would come at Christmas time and birthdays to bring me presents.

My parents suffered the 鈥�13hr bombing鈥� in Birmingham whilst I was away 鈥攕o many people were killed and a whole street was flattened by a land mine. They lost everything.
My Uncle Tom was in the fire service and was on the switchboard when the news came through that our terrace had been bombed.

We used to watch the bright search lights when the air raids were on.

I was transferred to George Dixon High School, and I had to walk past the American soldiers. We had to wear our skirts 3鈥� above our knee and it was a nightmare, because the solders to used to make remarks as I walked by.

I remember at the end of the war, people poured out of their homes rejoicing. My friends and I had some champagne, and everyone was dancing and hugging and kissing. It was all very friendly.

I joined the Amie De Voluntier Francais (a fund raising scheme for the Free French over here, who had escaped from France). We supplied them with every day necessities, for which they were very grateful.

I met my husband at the 鈥榣ocal hop鈥�. It cost 3d to go in and we danced to the gramophone records of Victor Sylvester etc. My friends and I wanted a cigarette and they dared me to go and ask him if he would sell us some of his (he always had plenty). He charged me 6d for five cigarettes.
One evening, he followed me home from the 鈥榟op鈥� and we got chatting and started 鈥榞oing out鈥� together. We got married in 1949.

After the war 鈥� I started work in a jeweller鈥檚 and whilst I was there two Jewish lads, who had been in a concentration camp 鈥� although I don鈥檛 know where, came to work. They were immaculately dressed, but at meal times they would lean over their food to guard it, fearful that someone would take it away from them.

This story was submitted to the People's War site by Jacci Phillips of the CSV Action Desk at 大象传媒 Hereford and Worcester on behalf of Grace Wright and has been added to the site with her permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

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