大象传媒

Being three when the war broke out, I had no prior life to compare with the following six years. Indeed, one of my first recollections is of blackout blinds being put up in the house where we were on holiday in Anglesey. That would have been early September 1939.

Thus, shortages of food, no bananas or melons for example, were not apparent to me. Having your own sweet coupons inferred an almost adult status! I did not miss the toys I had never experienced, and hand-me-downs, be it toys or clothes, were accepted as normal life. Improvising toys, including a catapult gun made from firewood, was normal. Many boys had a steer-able 鈥榯rolley鈥�, made from a wooden box, a plank of wood and pram wheels. As Buxton, Derbyshire was hilly and the roads had little traffic, it was almost as fast and risky as go-karting is now. All toboggans / sledges were home made.

In Buxton, we were relatively remote from the war. Only occasionally did the siren send us to the cellar when a plane bound for Manchester or maybe Liverpool or Belfast, came our way. My father was 38 at the start of the war, and spent Sunday nights as an ARP warden. We had a card in our window displaying 鈥楽tirrup Pump鈥�, and regular testing of its serviceability was a bit of fun. The huge EWS (emergency water supply) tanks placed in any available open space were a challenge to climb up and look in.

As with these tanks, when the war did intrude it was usually to enhance a child鈥檚 life. Collecting the radar-scatter aluminium foil which aircraft dropped on our fields was a bit like finding manna from heaven. Sometimes the rolls were complete and could be put to various uses. Likewise, the military convoys which drove up the A6 were a diversion, and provide the opportunity to shout, 鈥淕ot any gum, chum!鈥� at the 鈥榊ankees鈥�. When the US Army lent their bulldozers to clear the snow, and took all the cats-eyes out of the road in doing so, that was another talking point. The open day given by Canadian soldiers billeted in a big hotel were my first ever taste of a donut!

Only a few evacuees attended our school. The children of the staff in the government offices relocated to Buxton mainly went to the private schools in Buxton or elsewhere. Indeed, it was probably a boom decade for these schools. One had its extensive playing field opposite our house, and it was a useful kick-about-facility when they were not using it. My recollection of the evacuee children who did come to our school was that they fitted in well. I think they made us a little more street-wise than we might have otherwise been.

Mother knitted a lot, and we were always sending parcels off to missions in London鈥檚 East End. At church the prayers enlightened us to who had sons or daughters in the war and who would not return. At home we had a world map on the living room wall, and Daddy would interpret the news for us. Children鈥檚 Hour, as I recollect it, did not try to interpret the war for children, but confined itself to providing diversionary and sometimes scary serials.

To be honest, I don鈥檛 think I missed anything important as a primary school child in Buxton during the war. No doubt it has made me a bit mean and reluctant to ever throw anything away.

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