大象传媒

I cried when War was declared on 3rd September l939. My wedding day was all arranged - with my fiancee working in the South I had been sewing for 6 months making my trousseau, my wedding dress, my Mother`s outfit etc.

Then the Government in its wisdom decreed that no more than 12 persons should assemble in one public place - invitations had gone out to some 50 guests, most of whom crammed into my parents small 3 bedroomed semi!

Married bliss started in Withington, Manchester - memories of getting home from a visit to the cinema during the blackout of 39-40 plus a real Manchester smog was the bus conductor walking in front of the bus with a white handkerchief.

My first baby was born at home August 1940, the end of the "phoney" War. A long spell of gunfire accompanied my labour pains and I begged the Nurse to put me UNDER the bed.

Bathing my new baby son one morning the Air Raid Warden came to tell me to go to the Anderson shelter without delay. Grabbing my baby and a prized wedding present - a glazed chintz bedspread - I hurried down to the shelter hearing the shrapnel falling on the garage roof as I ran. We were there for some hours. Anderson shelters notoriously leaked rusty water, the prized eiderdown was never the same.

The winter of 1940-41 was a very cold one in Manchester - the water froze in the pipes coming into the houses so water was at premium, jugs and buckets being filled from a tanker in the street. How to wash the nappies? A lawn covered in brilliant white snow seemed the answer. I filled the gas boiler to the brim with snow over a very low light, very confident I had solved the problem - I was totally unaware of the soot content of the Manchester snow!!!

My husband was called up in Feb. 1941 having been a part-time fire fighter in Manchester and Salford.

His initial training was at Blackpool for 6 weeks. The landlady had no idea of men's appetites - seated at tables for 4 the men tossed to see who should eat the frugal breakfast - unfortunately Bill was unlucky enough to lose the toss frequently so parcels of breakfast cereals had to be sent to him.

Alone in Manchester, night after night when coming up out of the shelter I looked towards the city, the night sky aglow with fires.

So I was evacuated to Market Harborough. Everywhere was crowded, I got two rooms in a terraced house for myself and baby but the landlady had her young sister who had been evacuated from Birmingham staying also. For a time all seemed well, food and money short, there was an outstanding Income Tax demand which constantly nagged me, and being fairly new to housekeeping, women of my generation will remember a cash box with several compartments where small sums of money were set aside for a "rainy day" and was most helpful. The cash box vanished and so did the young girl from Birmingham, eventually the cash box was found empty at the bottom of the water butt.

So prefering bombs to being robbed I went to Coventry to live - my parents had been sent to Chatham on war work and their house was empty.

Eventually Bill was allocated to Bomber Command as a wireless operator flying in Lancasters. From blitzed Coventry I was evacuated to Warwick to have my second baby in December 1943. The matron would not allow the radio news or newspapers to be brought into the Ward but my bed mate's visitors came out with the remark "My, didn't we lose a lot of Lancs last night, 124! My temperature went sky high. But Bill had been given 48 hrs. compassionate leave to come and see his new baby son, his crew taking someone else in his place - they failed to
return from a raid over Germany.

These were anxious days or rather nights. Later I learned - 7 nights over Berlin out of 11 nights; a low level attack on Penemunde; then reported late back at base in Lincolnshire. As was the normal practice, Bill's locker was cleared of his personal possessions including precious oranges and butterscotch saved from hisspecial air crew allowance. Much later it was learned after a troubled flight limping home they had perforce to land way up North, the news of their safety arriving at base just in time to stop the telegram being sent to me.

On another occasion Bill was stood down on his 29th Op, the experienced pilot taking a "green" crew - and they did not return. Can you imagine the feelings during that final 30th trip?

And so the war ended. In 1946 Bill was working in Somerset living in lodgings, me, again pregnant (well after 5 broken years we were together again but miles apart, I was still in Coventry. Six weeks before my third baby was due a telegram arrived - Miracles happened. Writing, Love Bill - he had found us a house. What joy!!

Bill died in 1972 from a heart attack.

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