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This story was submitted to the People’s war site by Lucy Watkins on behalf of Hetty Swanson and has been added to the site with her permission. The author fully understands the site’s terms and conditions.

I was fourteen years old and at school when the war broke out. There were camps based around Cheltenham and soon there were few civilian men in the town. It sounds like a wicked thing to say when there was so much slaughter, but we enjoyed wartime. There were dances at the Town Hall on Wednesdays, Fridays and Saturdays and sometimes on a Monday if there was a special event. On a Saturday night, you would queue up from 7.30 for the doors to open at 8. There were long, long queues and you knew if you were past a certain point, you would not get in. It was great fun, especially once the Americans were posted here. Having met my husband, George, at 16 when he was based in Risslington, I would write to him two to three times a week. On one occasion, I sent him a photograph of myself and he wrote back telling me off for the dark rings around my eyes, joking with me that I had been going out to too many dances!
I remember men often coming to knock on my door for my sister, Bette, and I. One American man would sneak oranges and chocolates through our window as gifts. Our young nephew would always run home to check if the nice men had brought chocolate! One day, myself and a friend were heading home from work when some American men gave us some tickets to a dance so we scooted home, quickly washing our work things and getting changed to head out instead! When the Americans first arrived, people would say ‘what a load of scruffs’, as they sat on the pavements with their feet in the gutter. Like the oranges and chocolate, they had cigarettes in large packets full of twenty packets. We used to feel awful, really, as our boys would have to queue in town but the Americans had loads.
My sister and I were put into domestic service shortly after the war broke out and I was there until I was 16. Bette and I were both very lucky as the people we worked for were nice at looking after their staff. The old Major, who I worked for, was always whistling and marching around the garden! I remember one time there I called ‘Master Dennis’ just ‘Dennis’ — and didn’t I get a ringing for it! My duties increased when the gardener went to war, and I looked after the garden as well. And one by one, all the staff went into war work until it was just me working at the house. I then had to sit with Mrs as she would get scared and I had to keep her company.
When I left domestic service, I too went into war work at a date factory — which, to the men, I would grandly call work for the ‘Ministry of Food’! The factory had a radio and it would be great fun as we would sing as we packed dates, then dance on our breaks. Everything was fun and whether this was because of the war or simply because we were young, who knows? We were very fortunate in Cheltenham but I, of course, feel for all the people who were not so fortunate.

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