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"This story was submitted to the site by the ´óÏó´«Ã½'s Peoples War Team in the East Midlands with Katherine Kemm's permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions."

I lived in a village 4 miles out of Newark and had to walk those 4 miles to get my bread. I also had to walk 4 miles back as well, queuing for half an hour while there. If the baker didn’t have any I’d have to find another and that wasn’t easy. I had to go to the grocer to get the cheese and butter ration. Only 2 ounces of butter and sugar — not enough. I also used to sell my clothing coupons to get some more money for my groceries.

My husband was a soldier with the Leicestershire Yeomanry. We were married 6 weeks before he was sent to Rufford park barracks — I used to bike to see him, it took me about one and a half hours, a hell of a long way. There were 3 hills to walk up but it was always nice to bike down them. He was then moved to Beaver Castle which again I used to bike to — it was a long way but worth it to see them. He was in England until 1942 when he left me 3 months pregnant with my daughter. He was away until 1946.

We used to grow everything, veg, fruit, everything. We also kept chickens and had our own eggs.

I really missed my husband while he was away. All my brothers went as well so I just lived with my Dad.

When I was in labour with my daughter I had to walk to the hospital. I was concerned I’d have it on the street.

The butcher was often kind to me — he’d save me sheep’s heads and you could make some lovely soups. The whole community used to work with one another. There was a mill in the village and I could get a bit of flour to make my own bread.

My soldiers wife army pay was 25 shillings a week — it went up to 30 when I had my daughter, but no more clothes coupons. It was hard work feeding a baby.

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