大象传媒

This reminiscence was written by Marie Gunn, nee Carruthers several years after World War Two and contributed to the 大象传媒 People鈥檚 War project after her death by her daughter Iris Cotterell.

I was born on Sunday February 19th 1922. In 1931 we moved to Moat Farm at Much Hadham, near Bishop鈥檚 Stortford, Hertfordshire. This was a lovely old house and a farm of 351 acres. I went to Northgate End School in Bishop鈥檚 Stortford 鈥� the fare was three pence each way.

I had to help in the house, although we had a maid living in and a woman to do the washing and rough work. As I grew older I looked after the ppultry collecting the eggs and other jobs round the farm. Things were changing fast in farming, with produce coming in far cheaper than we could produce it so everything was sold and we moved to a house in Braughing where we lived for a year in 1937 while looking for a smaller farm to run ourselves. We took on a small 38 acre farm called Willow Pond Farm, with a bathroom, three ponds but no running water, a pump that didn鈥檛 work and a toilet up the garden.

We moved in on September 29th 1938. Next day the newspaper billboards read; 鈥淧eace in our time.鈥� I can remember feeling quite frightened at the search lights that could be seen practising at night and felt very much alone. I had left school when we moved from Much Hadham and did not have any friends, and once we had the farm I worked, as they say, 鈥榝rom dawn till dusk鈥�.

I rarely went out and did not have any money so when I was 18 I told my parents I was going, I had no idea where. So mother went into town and got me a job at Calders chemist shop, 29 North Street, for 10 shillings a week. I stayed there nearly a year and my money went up to fifteen shillings and then to a pound.

During this time I met a man who worked at the Midland Bank across the road. His name was Denis Gunn. When I left Calders his sister got me a live-in job on another farm at Hallingbury. Here I got 25 shillings and my keep. While here I joined the Land Army otherwise I would have had to go into the forces. I was sent to Childerditch Hall, near Brentwood, Essex, where I spent five very happy years. I was in charge of nearly two hundred cattle, mostly dairy, earned just on two pounds and paid my landlady Mrs Dickens one pound. Her sons were Podge (real name George) and Doug. We stayed in touch long after the war was over.

Dennis and I parted soon after my move to Brentwood but I kept friendly with his sister and when on my one a month weekend leave I would go to her, borrow her bike and cycle home to Levens Green. Sometimes I would cycle all the way, 37 miles, but always stopped the Sunday night with her before going back to Brentwood on the Monday morning. It was here that I met her other brother Joe Gunn when he was home on leave from the Army and so began another story - after the war I married him.

Some of the things I remember and saw during the war: seeing London on fire even from 30 miles away. Dog fights on a September afternoon. Eating my dinner and seeing a plane dropping its bombs, because it was being chased by a Hurricane from Hornchurch.

From my bedroom window I once first heard then saw a Doodlebug pass by. Its wing must have touched a wire in the paddock where the bulls were because it turned, came back and blew up about three fields away. The Ministry would not let anyone near and it was soon taken away. We saw quite a few making their way to London. But most were shot down before they got inland.

We often saw the Flying Fortress planes coming back. One crashed on Birds Farm just down the road. We did go to look at that, the crew were all dead. I was surprised how big it was. These Flying Fortresses belonged to the Americans who also flew them.

One morning while I was getting in the cows some planes came over, so low I could see the pilot quite clearly and waved to him. Soon they were coming back chased by our planes and I realised he was a German.

Another pitch black night the air raid sirens went so we went over to the farmhouse to sit in their cellar. Some of us kept watch in turn. When it was my turn I heard one of the horses cry out. I told the sons of the family but they would not come with me or go and look. In the morning the horse keeper found one of the mares dying, she had been hit by shrapnel. She was in foal and had to be shot.

The worst things of all were the V2 rockets, you could not hear them coming. Five came down around us within half a mile. I began to think it would be our turn next. Bretts Farm had two, the first one fell on the cattle shed killing most of the herd and blowing off part of the farmhouse roof. Two weeks later the next one fell right beside the house, the granny and the youngest daughter found themselves blown out into the garden, and Mr Brett was dead in bed, though his wife beside him as unhurt. Their son Peter and his brother were smothered by the tarpaulin that covered the roof. We were all so shocked by this, but thank goodness it was the last to fall our way and soon the war ended.

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