大象传媒

This story was submitted to the People's War website by Julia Shuvalova for GMR Actiondesk on behalf of Doris Worthington and has been added with her permission. The author is fully aware of the terms and conditions of the site.

September 3rd 1939 is the day I will never forget. I was working in a factory doing surgical dressings for the forces, when the boss ordered machines shut down and be quiet, whilst he told us that England was at war with Germany. There was stunned silence for a while.

Then it was back to war work, seven days a week, eight o'clock until six. We did manage to go dancing several nights a week, dodgin shrapnel guns on the way, and A.R.P. shouting get in the doorways, we did get to the ballroom of our choice.

One night it was fire watching in the building, and to get an idea what it was like, we were taken to a little hut in Cheetham Hill. Dressed in overalls that were much too large, we were put in the hut when it was filled with smoke, so much it was hard to breathe. That was to give us an idea of what it would be like in the event of a fire. It was not pleasant, but it had to be done, so nobody complained!

Christmas saw Manchester facing bombing, and my next memory dates back to March 1941, when I was 20 and worked on securing our share in Ardurck. In the space of 250 yards six bombs were dropped, the first one fell into a garage, and the second to a picture house where my friend and I were dancing, bringing all the windows in onto the floor, and all the dancers underneath tables. The cloakroom attendant was reluctant to give our coats telling us it was nowhere near. What a sight met us when we finally got to the end of the stairs, not only the picture house on the one side, but also an Army Drill Hall on the other was bombed. The Sentry on duty was killed outright. Some of the injured were brought into the foyer where we were.

It was a moonlight night, and a burst water main, my friend and I fell into a bomb crater that was filled with water. Luckily for us, the A.R.P. wardens were there to pull us out, because we were both terrified and soaking wet through. Next morning we went back to our machines. There was no shirking, we were on war work!

At the end of the week we went to the same dance hall, where now in the back way the windows were boarded up. But at least it was open, although I lost my dance shoes in the water.

That is my story, events I will never forget, and I'm happy to be here to tell my story. We had to go back to work every day, because those young men in the forces had relied on our help.

漏 Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.