大象传媒

Outbreak of War

I was nineteen when the war began. I worked at County Hall, Maidstone doing clerical work for the Public Assistance Department. (This was the forerunner of the National Health). Although it was a Sunday we had been asked to go into work that day because they knew war was imminent. Being Sunday, there weren鈥檛 many buses running so it was rather difficult, and when we got there we were told we could go home again.

I was living in Alexander Road, Luton at the time and always went to work by bus. I used to run down my road, straight on to the bus to the Town Hall, Chatham, and then straight onto the Hastings bus. There was little traffic on the roads then and it used to be a straight run. I used to leave the house at twenty past eight to get there for nine. I think I got to work quicker then than those people who go by car now!

That first day, while I was at County Hall, there was an air raid warning and we all piled down into the basement. I鈥檇 forgotten my gas mask, I鈥檇 left it up in the office. We didn鈥檛 know what to expect when that first warning went off, we thought, this is it, the enemy would come over with all his aircraft and he鈥檇 be dropping bombs and dropping gas, and I said 鈥淥h! I haven鈥檛 got my gas mask!鈥� And one of the men said, 鈥淚鈥檒l go up and get it for you鈥� and I said 鈥淣o, no, you鈥檒l be killed!鈥� Then the all clear went. It didn鈥檛 last long, that first one, but it was enough to frighten people to death鈥�.

Home life

At the beginning of the war I was single and living with my parents. I was an only child. My father was an insurance agent but my mother, who was Welsh, didn鈥檛 go to work.

We had an air raid shelter in the garden. My father wasn鈥檛 able to build it because he had been wounded in the First World War. My husband, or boyfriend then, he put it in and the people next door helped. Everybody helped. We didn鈥檛 use it a lot except at the start. As soon as war was declared the sirens went off and my mum and dad went down and sat in the shelter all the morning but of course nothing was going on.

I got married in 1943 and I asked for a transfer from my job in Maidstone to Chatham. Mr. Rix was the Assistant Public Assistance Officer of Rochester and Chatham and I knew him vaguely because he used to come into the main office, and I used to say to him, 鈥淗ave you got a job there for me?鈥� He鈥檇 say, 鈥淚 will one day鈥�. So when I got married I said to him, 鈥淚鈥檓 ready for that job!鈥� and he said 鈥淲ell, you can come over now!鈥�. The other relieving officer, Mr. Swan, had been called up, so they asked me to go over and help out. I couldn鈥檛 take his place because I wasn鈥檛 qualified. The office was in a house in the grounds of All Saints Hospital, Magpie Hall Road, Chatham. It was right down the bottom of the grounds opposite the Magpie Hall Tavern. I used to walk to work every day. I tried a bicycle but I was frightened of riding it.

The work was much the same as before the war, I was typing letters just the same but when I moved to the Relieving Officer鈥檚 office in Chatham, then I had to interview people who wanted their relief, as they called it then, parish relief and they wanted their relief increased. That embarrassed me.

Rationing and making do

I didn鈥檛 notice any difference in our food or anything. We grew beans and peas and that sort of thing. I remember one of the dishes my mum used to do. She used to get a big marrow, and peel it, cut it lengthways down the middle, scoop out the seeds and fill the cavity with bits of meat, bits of mince and bacon, whatever she could find. She鈥檇 put it together, tie it up and roast it and when it came out she鈥檇 pretend it was a joint!

My mother鈥檚 family lived on the Gower Peninsular. They had a smallholding there and they were allowed to keep a pig. When they killed the pig, they always sent my mum a bit, so that was something to look forward to. The spare ribs of the pig. We had a butcher, down on Luton Road, and he would be fair with what he had. My mum also used to do some bottling and making jam and things like that. And we always had plenty of vegetables. I didn鈥檛 really feel deprived.

It was a happy time, really, I can鈥檛 tell you why, probably because I was young and it was a good time of my life, but it was a happy time.

My mother-in-law had a little general store in her front room and of course she had sugar and butter and that sort of thing and it all had to be sanctioned by the Food Office. She used to get in a terrible pickle, because she was so kind-hearted. The neighbours would come in and say, 鈥淥h, my so-and-so鈥檚 home on leave and I haven鈥檛 got a bit of sugar!鈥� And she would give them a bit of extra sugar and then say to me, 鈥淢argaret, I can鈥檛 let you have any sugar this week! I鈥檝e given it to Mrs. So-and-so鈥�. Every so often she would have to go to the Food Office and account for what she had got and what she hadn鈥檛 got, usually she hadn鈥檛 got it. She used to get me to go for her. She had two daughters, but they were both away, my husband was away, so she used to ask me to go to the Food Office for her, and I would say, 鈥淥h well, she鈥檚 only got so much sugar and she should have this much!鈥�.

Queues

I鈥檓 not very tall and the queues for me were a blessing, because whenever I went in for anything and there was a crowd of people, I would be pushed to the back. It was the same with the buses. I had dreadful trouble trying to get on a bus if there was a crowd of people there. So when the queues came, I thought, what a good idea. It made a big difference to me.

Entertaining the locals

At the beginning of the war everything got cut off. There was radio, no television then, of course, but the cinemas were all closed. I was just beginning to go with my husband then and we belonged to Luton Methodist in Connaught Road and there was an institute there for the young people, but of course, they closed that up as well, so we had nowhere to go.

That鈥檚 when we opened our 鈥淪milers鈥� Club鈥�. One evening, my husband was at home with me, with my parents, and we found some rolls of old wallpaper and we printed out words of the popular songs, like 鈥渞un, rabbit, run rabbit鈥� and that sort of thing. We said, if we could get Miss Evenden, the organist at the Methodist Chapel to play for us, we could have a sing song sometime. So we asked her. She was an elderly lady, but she was quite willing and she suggested we ask permission to use one room of the chapel.

So we asked permission and were told that as long as it was blacked out properly and we didn鈥檛 need a fire, then yes, it was alright. My husband lived in Connaught Road, where his mother had the little shop and she put the word around that there was going to be a sing song in the Chapel.

We were inundated! We couldn鈥檛 get all the people in the room! There was nothing else going on. And that went on until my husband was called up. About eighteen months, I should think. They used to come every Thursday and queue up outside the Chapel and we used to charge them a penny each. We didn鈥檛 make them tea, but we used to have this sing song and a lot of people heard about it and offered to come and do an act for us in between the singing.

One man was Ken Stirling. His real name was Cyril Boorman but he used the name Ken Stirling because, like my husband, he was building Stirling Bombers at Short Brothers. So he would come and do a bit of an act. And then we had a hypnotist, we had some weird people there. But the people of Connaught Road and from all around looked forward to this evening.

A wartime baby

My husband was called up at the beginning of 1944 and I was expecting our first child, Richard when I remember the first of the Doodlebugs. It was very frightening. It made such an awful noise and we were told that it was a pilot-less aircraft and you couldn鈥檛 imagine it.

Wilf had been in the Army a few months before our son Richard was born. Anyway, I was expecting Richard within the next fortnight, December 44 and he came home on embarkation leave. He said, 鈥淚鈥檓 pretty sure we鈥檙e going to the Far East鈥�, and that was a terrible place to go to. I was really worried, and he wasn鈥檛 too happy either. But I had to go up to All Saints鈥� for a check up, because Richard was due soon, and I happened to say to Mr. Wright, the Gynaecologist, when he asked, 鈥淗ow are you?鈥�, that I was a bit unhappy because my husband鈥檚 embarkation leave was up soon. He said that he shouldn鈥檛 go abroad. He said, 鈥淚 don鈥檛 want to frighten you, but he shouldn鈥檛 go abroad until your baby鈥檚 born鈥�. I said 鈥渢here鈥檚 not much we can do about that鈥�, and he said, 鈥淵es there is, I鈥檒l write a letter to his commanding officer鈥�.
So he wrote this letter and what he put in it I do not know, but I gave it to Wilf and he said, 鈥渢his won鈥檛 do any good鈥�. He was really upset about it all, and I said, 鈥淣ever mind, take it back鈥�. He did, we said goodbye at the station and he said, 鈥淚 don鈥檛 know when I鈥檒l see you again, and I don鈥檛 know how I鈥檓 going to know that the baby鈥檚 born鈥�, because it was all so hush-hush. He鈥檇 been training, Far East training, that鈥檚 the only way they knew.

The next Sunday, he was in Liverpool, he hadn鈥檛 gone. He managed to phone his mum鈥檚 neighbour, not many people had a phone in those days, but there was a banging on the door, and they said to come quick, Wilf鈥檚 on the phone. That happened for two Sundays and then Richard was born.

I had one of the easiest confinements you could wish for. I was only twenty minutes in the labour room. It was amazing really. One of the nurses said to me, 鈥淵ou鈥檙e Mrs. Scott, aren鈥檛 you? I think we had a phone call about you this morning鈥�. I said, 鈥淒id you? Who was it?鈥� and she said, 鈥淣ever mind, forget I said that鈥�. Thinking about it afterwards, I think it was the Army phoning up to confirm, and if they had phoned a day later, Richard would have been born, and they would have said that everything was alright and that my husband could go.

A Home Posting

On the third Sunday when my mother in law was expecting to hear that Wilf was on the phone again, there was a banging on the door and Wilf was there and he said, 鈥淚鈥檝e been told to come home鈥�. He came up to the hospital and the baby had been born and he was all right! It was amazing, that was, and it was because of Richard that he probably owes his life. He said, 鈥淒on鈥檛 get too euphoric, they鈥檒l probably fly me out to my regiment鈥� but we had a fortnight together and then he went back to Liverpool.

Nothing was done and he was kicking his heels there for a couple of weeks and then he was called into the office and they said that his posting had come, and he said, 鈥淵es, I鈥檝e been expecting it鈥� and they said, 鈥淒o you know of a place called Gravesend?鈥� and he was there for quite a time. That was so lucky. He stayed in the barracks there but he could get home. From there he went to Shorncliff in Folkestone, he was training the soldiers there. We had been so lucky.

Looking after baby in wartime

I remember I couldn鈥檛 get the liners for the baby鈥檚 nappies. We could buy towelling and we used to cut them up ourselves to make the nappies but they used to have a sort of gauze liner and I couldn鈥檛 get it. So I bought lint, the medical lint, cut that up and bound it round the edge and washed it well, and used that inside the nappies and that worked.

I fed both my boys. I never did have a bottle. I had worked for the Relief Officer right up until a fortnight before Richard was born, and I used to have to walk up to the hospital and interview patients to see if they could afford to pay anything or not, and there was an epidemic of Gastroenteritis amongst the babies. They were dying like flies and of course in those days they didn鈥檛 sterilise the bottles like they do now. So I was determined not to have a bottle in the house and I never did. Any water I gave them was from a spoon. It was really distressing, the mothers losing their babies, even in the hospital they were dying.It was a real epidemic.

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