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My name is Edna May Thomas and I celebrated my 100th birthday on July 16 2005. I live in Cheddleton, a small village in the Staffordshire Moorlands where I was living at the outbreak of the Second World War. I was 34, married to Jack with 3 young daughters: Gaynor 10, Mavis 7 and Sylvia 6. Jack was a Special Constable.

Like many other families in the village we lived as an extended family with my mother, May, who had been recently widowed.

I was one of nine surviving children of Reuben and May Kent, three other children died in infancy.

The house we lived in was part of Cheddleton Brewery which my father managed until closure in 1915.

The house had six bedrooms, but no electricity and no hot water, the toilet was a two seater out in the back yard. The toilet was emptied about every six months by the 鈥淣ight Soil Man鈥�. To use the toilet at night you had to go with a candle in a jam jar.

My brothers Rae and Frank had served in the 1914-18 war, both suffered injury and gassing. On their return they lived locally working in a paper mill in the village.

My other brothers Ron, Charles and Jack were in the forces. Ron, married, was a cook and served overseas in the army. Until this time Charles and Jack had lived at home. Charles was also in the army, in the Hertfordshire regiment. He served in Gibraltar and then in Italy where he died of wounds received in the battle of Greve, Italy which caused great sadness in the family.

Jack, the youngest, served with the RAF in India.

Two of my sisters, Freda and Nellie were married and lived locally. My other sister, Nancy, and her small son, Peter, lived with us. She worked as a maid at the local psychiatric hospital. My Aunty Polly and her daughter, Lizzie, also lived with us.

Rationing was hard, but everyone pulled together helping each other whenever possible. My mother used to put fresh eggs into a large bowl and cover them with water-glass to preserve them. Powdered egg was also available.

The meat ration allowed some corned beef and some fresh meat.
To help with the butter ration we used to put fresh milk into a bottle and shake it until the cream turned to butter.

Whenever Mr Fernyhough, the greengrocer, had oranges, you had to queue and get your ration book marked.

Sugar and sweets were rationed, children would buy liquorice root to chew. Word soon spread when there was saccharine in shops in the local town, Leek. A square board with a hundred holes was dipped into a bowl of saccharine and shaken until the holes were full then the contents were packaged.

Clothing coupons were saved until you had enough to buy what you needed or they were traded, bartered, for something else. Everyone was encouraged to 鈥淢ake Do And Mend鈥�

Everyone was encouraged to 鈥淒ig For Victory鈥� growing as many vegetables as possible.

Next to our house was Churnet Hall. Evacuees were brought here to be billeted out around the village. We had two children on two occasions. The first, Richard O鈥橲hea and Jimmy Smart were from London and later the Cronin brothers from Manchester.

The lower floor of the hall was used as a catholic school and run by nuns. My mother did the washing for the nuns using a boiler in the corner fuelled with anything even old shoes to make the water boil. We used things such as a posser and dolly-pegs to get those clothes clean.

The top floor of the hall was used for entertainment. Dances were held and several times it was hired by American troops from their camp at Blackshaw Moor. Local people were invited to join in. I remember one very young soldier, Jimmy Packard and have often wondered what happened to him. The Home Guard did their training in the hall.

Everyone was issued with gas masks and children used to go to school hanging them around their necks. Occasionally they were checked to ensure that they still functioned by someone checking them in Churnet Hall Yard.

Our windows were criss-crossed with adhesive tape to stop glass shattering of a bomb fell. Thick, black 鈥渃urtain鈥� material was put up to the windows at night to stop light being seen outside. An ARP patrol checked if any light could be seen. If it could there would be a knock on the door and you would be told to stop the light showing.

One time enemy flares were dropped during a raid. We were told that they had been looking for a munitions factory, Thomas Bolton Ltd, in Froghall, a small village a few miles down the river. One canister dropped in the village caused the evacuation of residents to the Churnet Hall until it was declared safe.

Eventually VE Day came with celebrations on the local playing fields with fancy dress, football and other games.

As a complete surprise my fourth daughter, Carolyn, was born a year after the war in October 1946 completing my family.

As you can imagine I have seen many, many changes in my hundred years.

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