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I was 13 years of age at the start of the war, living in Carshalton, Surrey. I was the second eldest of five children.

At 14 years of age I commenced work at Banstead, Surrey, sewing elements into linings for air crew uniforms. Later on I worked at a factory near Croydon Airport. On arriving home from work one evening, I realised that I had left my gas mask in the cloakroom at work. As we were supposed to have them with us at all times, I decided I would go and cycle back to Croydon to collect it — there may have been an air raid that evening, and I wouldn’t have had it with me. As I set off on my bike, I could hear a terrible noise, like bombing, coming from the direction of London. I decided that I would not go and collect my gas mask that evening! As I went to work the following morning, such a sad sight met my eyes — many factories had been bombed — so many people injured. Some weeks later, a policeman arrived at my house to hand me my gas mask…no sirens had sounded to warn people of that particular raid.

The next job I had was at Hackbridge, Surrey. I was working for Marconi’s repairing transmissions for aircraft. Being so very proud of our airmen, we used to send notes in the transmissions with good luck messages - although, when we were found out were told to stop!

My father was wounded in the First World War at Ypres, Belgium — he had to hold down a light job, earning £2.00 per week. My sister worked in a hospital, so I couldn’t wait to start work when I left school.

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