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FIRST STOP - RUISLIP CO-OP — 1942

Two major events occurred in 1926 - the General Strike (and the reason for it) - and I was born. But that's another story.

At the onset of World War 2 in 1939, I was 13 and lived in a small industrial town in Kent by the side of the river Thames. As this was a possible danger area, my mother decided that I would be safer living with my sister in Ruislip. With hindsight, this was rather foolhardy as Ruislip is very near Northolt airfield, which was a base for squadrons of Spitfires.

Still being of school age I was due to continue my education, but schools were closed for a spell, and after a period of time only operated a couple of afternoons a week. By the time things got organised properly I was 14, and at an age when it was legal to leave school. So, on my 14th birthday I started work at the local Co-op and was still there when I became 16.

By this time I was quite an assured shop assistant and well able to cope with irate customers which, with all the traumas and shortages of food, were understandable. As all money transactions had to be done mentally, I became quite adept at mental arithmetic.

Being in the shop had its rewards when young servicemen would come in with their weekend ration cards. Who could refuse sneaking a little over their ration to them, plus a packet of cigarettes, discreetly hidden under the counter?

A task I really enjoyed was cleaning out the Tobacco Kiosk, although one day I had a shock when I discovered that Bells Cut Cake was a tobacco, not a cake, which I had been sent to the local bakers to purchase on my first day in the shop. Everyone had to go through their initiation ceremony.

Almost everything in the shop came in sacks so had to be weighed and packed, including pepper and cocoa. One made you sneeze incessantly and the other changed your basic skin colour.

In a simple way we had some fun, but not much for us girls when the lads put us in the rubbish pit at the back of the shop, with the fear of confronting the occasional rat. Unfortunately, two of the lads didn't come back from the war, so you had to grab what enjoyment you could.

We didn't close during an air raid, apart from the day when invasion was feared. We all spent that day in our shelter, which was a small brick building - not very safe really, but we as youngsters enjoyed the break; until customers, realising that no invasion was taking place, started banging on the doors - so it was back to normal. We never did know quite what it was all about.

The shop had two long counters stretching the length of the shop - one serving groceries and the other provisions i.e. butter, cheese, bacon etc. It was always my wish to work on the provisions counter, but I never got the opportunity. I think it must have been the prospect of slapping the butter into small portions, and cutting the cheese with wire, and using the bacon slicer. The rations were such small portions, you could easily put a week's ration of butter on one slice of bread today. We accepted all the restrictions, and they didn't seem to harm us anyway. I remember we had a van driver who used to love to eat the broken eggs and swallowed them whole. The thought of this still makes me shudder.

Apart from the shop, I still managed a social life. The cinema played a major part in entertainment, especially if you were accompanied by one of the servicemen who received the extra rations from the shop. Also, I enjoyed dancing and went to dances with my sister and husband, which were always jolly affairs. The downside to me at 16, was when, on Wednesday afternoons (early closing at the shop), I decided to go to the cinema and had to take my small niece with me - provided we came out as soon as the siren went. I was also a member of the Sea Rangers and had some fun times at the local lido.

Towards the end of my 16th year, I realised that I had missed out on my education so got myself a job in London and went to Pitmans Secretarial College - no great achievement - but again, that's another story ....

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