大象传媒

As a seven year old, war was something completely unknown. It was a mystery where adults were expected to have answers and I, for one such child of the time, had complete confidence in my parents, yet wholly unaware of the terrible decisions they were having to take. Of their feelings, watching us go, one can only guess. I stayed for some years in Yorkshire as an evacuee and then in Mansfield, and returned to our house in Southend On Sea for my senior school years.

I remember the army lads giving us children stripey coloured rubber balls which we had not seen for a long time. As a young teeenager we obtained lengths of bangers from the army cadets which we unravelled and put inside our handmade crackers. We ate well as our lawn was dug up and we had an allotment also on a strip of ground alongside a main road. This was my father's contribution to the war effort in the Dig For Victory campaign on the Home Front. Being registered with a health food shop meant my mother could buy dried bananas and dried dates extra to our rations. She also sometimes managed to obtain tinned baby milk to supplement the milk ration, but she never let on how. Of course I began to learn to cook myself and learned to use dried eggs for cakes and a parsnip flavouring meant to be coconut.

My father was in the home guard and put in charge of the mortuary. Fortunately we did not have an emergency to put his training into practice.

This story was submitted to the People's War website by Helena Noifeld and has been added to the website on behalf of Gwendoline Ardley with her permission. She fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

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