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Recollections of World War 2

My memories of that war are still very vivid from the sounding of the first air raid siren to the last ‘all clear’.

Windows. One of the first things that had to be done after war was declared was to put sticky tape over the windows to help reduce injuries if they were blown out. This meant we could scarcely see out of them, and an awful lot of light was lost from the rooms. However, this had to be endured throughout the war.

Black-out. Owners of houses or any other buildings were ordered to black-out the windows at night. I went with my mother to buy thick black material for this purpose. If even a tiny chink of light shone through there was soon a knock at the door and an air raid warden looking something like Mr Hodges in ‘Dad’s Army’ saw to it that it didn’t happen again. We resented these knocks but it was important that enemy planes were kept in the dark. The only light came from searchlights and buildings on fire.

Identity. Everyone had to carry some form of identification. I had a silver bracelt which had my name, address and age engraved on it. Some were quite decorative — according to how much you could afford to pay.

Rationing. Very early on we were all supplied with ration books and clothing coupons. Long queues formed when word got round that certain rarer goods were to be had. Quite often, one could stand for an hour only to find that supplies had run out. Many goods could be bought under cover from the black market — at a price!

Air raids. The air raid siren could, of course, sound at any time and streets had to be cleared. Everyone had to run for shelter and home owners had to let people in to stay until the ‘all clear’ sounded. I lived on the Isle of Wight during the first part of the war and went for piano lessons in Newport. I remember knocking on the door of private houses, walking into specially built shelters, and once sitting for what seemed like an eternity in a hospital. All those strangers I stayed with were kind to me though — I was only eight years old.

School. Schooling was severely disrupted. Lessons had to be adapted somehow to fit in with such an unpredictable situation. When the siren sounded we ran to nearby homes, sometimes those of friends who lived near the school. My mother had a friend who lived close by and I always went to her. She was an elderly lady had two teachers (her daughters) living with her. They were the severe, old-fashioned sort, but were nice to me and gave me odd wool to knit dolls clothes to pass the time. I quite enjoyed that! They also made lovely marmalade and cakes, and I shared tea with them on many occasions. Sometimes the raids would last a long time, others were brief and we would just get back to lessons, only to have to leave again. Many days went by with hardly any lessons possible.

Frightening experiences. We often slept with our clothes on knowing we would be needing them anyway during the night and often too exhausted to undress anyway. In those days, an army barracks known as Albany Barracks adjoined Parkhurst Prison where my father was a prison officer. The enemy set out to destroy military targets and one night as I sat huddled-up with my mother and brother in a home-made shelter erected with sandbags, a bomb dropped only a few yards from us. My mother, who always panicked, was screaming — which didn’t help and my father was on duty at the prison. Total devastation greeted us the next day as the cost of that night’s raid was revealed.

It was not uncommon to look into the sky and see a ‘plane (sometimes an enemy one, sometimes our own) spiral to earth with smoke and flames pouring from it. In those moments we knew that husbands, sons, fathers and brothers had lost their lives and any who miraculously survived were terribly maimed. What a waste! A somewhat nasty practice, to my way of thinking, was the rush to the crashed aircraft to salvage anything, either metal or perspex for souvenirs and many ornaments were made and sold from these.

My most frightening experience came one day when I was playing with friendsw in an alley-way. We heard the droning of an aeroplane which was coming very low. We thought it was one of ours and then saw the big black cross on the wings. It was German! At that point a man passing by shouted at us to lay down. We threw ourselves to the ground just in time. Seconds later, tracer bullets fell all around us. The plane was low enough to see a figure in the cockpit — something I can never forget. Later on, we picked up the tracer bullets.

Gas masks. As the war progressed it became clear that Hitler would stop at nothing and it was feared that gas would be used. This is when gas masks were handed out to everyone. I had problems with getting one small enough to fit. By this time I was too old for a Mickey Mouse one, but the next size was too big, so when we had gas mask practice (which we often did) I was the subject of ridicule. I hated those masks, they were awful to wear and I desperately hoped I would never have to use mine. They were also a pain to carry everywhere.

Evacuees. In the later years of the war I was moved to Norfolk and found myself living in a small village called Kenninghall. My first memory there was of seeing a bus load of evacuee children arriving from Romford. All of them looked totally bewildered and a lot were crying. They were handed over to waiting people who would be their foster parents until it was safe for them to go home. They soon settled down and became our friends. We were very sad when they left. My parents house was not big enough for us to have any billeted with us. Great friendships were forged though, many of which remain to this day.

Americans. Close by our village was an American air base and I have fond memories of those airmen. They were very generous and often gave parties for the children in surrounding villages. They were the first to introduce us to sweet with savoury dishes. One meal consisted of sausages with peaches served together, which at that time we thought was horrible.

One morning a group of these young airmen came to our school and handed out chocolate to all of us — a real delight for me as we were only allowed a few points each month for sweets. That night those men were sent on a bombing mission and nearly all were lost, so I have happy and sad memories of that occasion. We were certainly upset when the Americans left. A number of our Kenninghall girls went to America later as G.I. brides.
Victory. V.E. day (Victory over Europe) came first and everyone came alive again. We laughed, we danced and we sang. Flags hung down from every building and we all waved one. I remember a big street party being held in the market place at Kenninghall — one of many across the country. There was tremendous celebration and jubilation. Rationing continued for some time afterwards but we didn’t mind that too much; we had got used to such stuff as powdered egg which landed on the plate like yellow rubber.

Finally, V.J. (Victory over Japan) sealed the end of this terrible war. We were all so happy that it was over but will never forget the dropping of the atomic bombs on Japan, the effects of which can be seen to this day. Eventually, our Japanese prisoners-of-war came home. Three arrived in kenninghall. One died of T.B. later. The others survived but I shall never forget how ill they looked and they took a long, long time to recover. Their memories have always been too painful to relate.

I hope and pray that we shall never again be plunged into such chaos, devastation and pain.

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