大象传媒

As folk have a habit of doing we were growing up. Ruth and I moved from youngsters to young teenagers. Being two years older I led the way. I found I wasn鈥檛 very happy just coming back every evening doing my homework, then 鈥減laying鈥� till bed time. I made 鈥減laying鈥� as interesting as possible but war restrictions didn鈥檛 help 鈥� 2 oz of everything per week butter sugar lard sweets etc. etc. If they could have rationed us to oz of shoes, shirts and trousers per week, they surely would have done.
I hope I made good use of my boyhood years in spite of these restrictions. There were playmates in the street. Right next door lived the Yarwood family. Their family consisted of 3 girls. Jean was a year or two older than me. She was blond and very pretty. Maybe a year or more younger than me were twin girls Audrey and Kathleen. They too were attractive. But at 12 you don鈥檛 notice whether girls are attractive or not. Next door on the other side (the semi that was attached to us) was Carmen. She was quite a bit younger a toddler in fact but we had our little games together. Tony Marland was a few doors away a little younger than me. There were others whose names and ages escaped me but whenever cricket was on the agenda bodies appeared out of the woodworks without any prompting.

As the war get under way the threat of bombing in the Manchester area seemed greater and three dads from our street decided they must take action. They decided to build an air raid shelter. So Mr Marland, Tom鈥檚 dad, Mr Yarwood Jean, Audrey and Kathleen鈥檚 dad and my dad (not forget as Ruth) got digging. There were as many shapes and sizes of air raid shelter as there are breeds of dog (the reality is completely unconnected to the analogy but it was the only multifarious example I could think of). Some were designed by the Government and were known as Anderson Shelters named after Sir John Anderson, Home Secretary (1939-1940). They had specific sizes such as 2 berths etc. You could dig an appropriate sized hole in the garden about half the depth of the shelter put it in then cover it with the soil that had come out of the hole. The decorative side of the separation taxed many an artistic mind. Some had a row of primroses on top. Some had a little rockery with rock plants in between. Others had little gnomes and garden ornaments dotted strategically on top. Some just grassed over it which did present a mowing problem as there was no such thing as a mowing machine with a humped blade and in desperation some just used scissors but that was a bit like harvesting a field of corn with a penknife. There were of course a few who just couldn鈥檛 care less. Their gardens had always been untidy and the image if their air raid shelter when it arrived just seemed to add to the prevailing impression of untidiness and a dereliction. I suppose there is some philosophy in that course of action as a direct hit on a row of primroses would have just the same destructive effects as a direct hit on a patch of rough grass and dandelions. I heard of one woman who had been berating her lazy husband saying how nice some air raid shelters had been made to look while theirs had never had anything on it but his tin helmet upside down with a daisy growing out of the top of it.
Ours was unique. No other could possibly have been made so protective and yet cosy. It was decided that there was just a little bit more land behind the Yarwoods garden than the others. When I say more land, don鈥檛 get the impression we鈥檙e talking about a field. There was about 3 yards of rough scotch grass and weeds from Yarwoods fence to a dirt path which ran all along the length of our gardens. It was well used every day by lots of men who came that way to work in Walkden Yard in which Coal Board engines and wagons were repaired. The proposed air raid shelter had to accommodate 6 adults and seven children and the children had to be able to lie down and sleep. Thinking back at it now I just can鈥檛 imagine how 3 men dug such a big hole about 6 feet deep by 3 yards wide by 8 yards long and finished it before the war ended. In fact, unless my memory fails me, they dug it in a few weeks. The sides were lined with railway sleepers stuck on end side by side with reduced sleepers spanning across the top also side by side. I can鈥檛 remember what was on the floor and there also must have been some drains going away to the railway cutting which I can鈥檛 recall. At the far end from the door there was a shelf arrangement approximately 2 feet from the floor and about 6 feet square. This was the bed for seven children if and when we were all present. The sides were lined with hard board and the whole interior white washed. My father being the electrical engineer brought an electrical supply for lights and boiling the kettle etc. The rule was that when the sirens went warning of approaching enemy aircraft, each family, roughly dressed made its way to the shelter. As I said elsewhere, there wasn鈥檛 much bombing of Walkden and on most occasions our trips to the shelter desiderated into something to a party for us kids and an excuse for a matter for the adults. I can鈥檛 remember whether there fixed seats for them or whether they brought in folding chairs. I don鈥檛 think there where many occasions when us kids got much sleep. Regarding our 鈥渢rips to the shelter鈥� I think there was something of a feeling of a good times drawing to a close when the threat of bombing lessened and finally ceased. Certainly a feeling of a real sadness when our shelter was dismantled and filled in. It was almost like a grave being filled in after a dear friend had just been buried.

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