大象传媒

I'm 67 now. I can remember my pre-school days better than I can remember my after-school days!
We used to do a drill every so often. There were six of us (children) plus my parents. Some of us used to get in the coalhouse- a very poky little place- and the rest of us used to get under the stairs. Mum and Dad used to get under the table in the kitchen, when the planes were coming over. I happened to be under the stairs when the bombs dropped in Llay. There were two. One dropped across the road from us, through a lady鈥檚 garden, and onto a big field. It left a huge, huge crevice. The other went off just- well, I鈥檇 say about five hundred yards from the pit- the Llay main colliery. That one killed two horses, but no-one was killed. Well, no-one that I can remember. That鈥檚 the only time I can remember bombs dropping close by.
I lived in Llay at the time. It was only a very small village then. So many colliery houses, and so many council houses, but it was mostly fields and woods. It really was beautiful. Nothing like you see today- housing estates here and there- it was rural. You could walk for miles.
We were in the window one night. By this time the blackout had stopped. Mum used to put an old black blanket over the window. There were hundreds of people marching down the road with candles in lanterns, shouting that they鈥檇 got Hitler鈥檚 head. Hitler was dead, they said, and they鈥檇 got his head. They were cheering. But mum wouldn鈥檛 let us go out to join them. She kept us inside. I don鈥檛 know, to be honest with you, when exactly that was, whether it was the day Hitler was declared dead or not.
I remember rationing too. It was wicked really. You only had so much of this and so much of that. Mum used to swap her tea coupons for other coupons, with different neighbours. They used to switch and swap. We didn鈥檛 have many sweets. We didn鈥檛 have them before the war anyway. And mum used to swap our sweet coupons with a lady down the road, and anything she had that she didn鈥檛 want she鈥檇 give to mum. But I remember mum making her own bread. My sister and I walked to Wrexham- about four miles there I think- to get the yeast, because they didn鈥檛 have any in the village.
And then of course, when the war was finally declared over, we had a huge party in the street. Some businessman put this party on, and paid for everything. Oh it was wonderful. But getting back to normal- after the war- was very traumatic, because by that time, you were getting to hear of who鈥檇 been hurt and who鈥檇 been killed. Luckily, no-one in my family was ever hurt. I had an uncle injured at Dunkirk. He was a male nurse. He got out of it alright. He had a few scars, but not a great deal.
And some of my friends joined the Land Army. I couldn鈥檛 understand it really. There were plenty of land girls round here, but they went away. And one lady came from South Wales to North Wales to work the land- Muriel. She died about three years ago. And she was a friend to me for the rest of her life. She stayed up here, married and had a family. But I couldn鈥檛 grasp why she was sent from South Wales up here, well, to Bellis鈥檚 the farm, and yet from North Wales, they went down to South Wales.
I can鈥檛 say it was a dreadful time for me, because I couldn鈥檛 understand it properly, but when the sirens went off- oh my goodness.
We used to sit and listen to the wireless. I remember one night, sitting, listening to Paul Temple, and the sirens went, and I wouldn鈥檛 let Dad turn the wireless off. Mind you, it went off in the end anyway. But I didn鈥檛 want him to turn the wireless off. I wanted to hear the rest of the story. It was comforting. You used to look forward to things like that.
We had two air raid shelters across the road from me, in a huge field. And the bomb dropped right in the middle of the two! Nobody was in the shelters though, because none of us would leave our homes. They were only brick buildings anyway. Nothing I could see that would keep you from the bombs. And they were so close to the houses, that they could have been taken for houses anyway. So mum didn鈥檛 think they made any difference, so consequently we went in the coalhouse, and under the stairs- the smallest rooms in the house, because mum said they鈥檇 be the last to go. I liked going under the stairs, because you could lie down. We weren鈥檛 there for long anyway, because once the all clear came, you were out again.
It鈥檚 a time I wouldn鈥檛 like to go back to. I had two young grandsons go to Iraq last year. One- 18, one- 19. But thankfully they鈥檙e both home. They鈥檝e seen a little bit of action, but not what there was then.

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