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Birmingham at War as I Remember It — Part 4
Eunice Jones

Of course, there was no television on those days so we all listened to the wireless. During the first few weeks of the war, everything was in turmoil. News bulletins came in at odd times, but normal programmes were all cancelled — I think the ´óÏó´«Ã½ were moving out of London so we had organ music from Blackpool Tower for hours on end. I think it was Sandy McPherson who was the organist and he deserved a medal for the way he kept going. After a while, things became more organized and the big event of the day was the 9 o’clock news. Everybody who could, listened to this. If you were visiting friends, were in a pub or canteen, everyone shut up and listened. This was the time that Churchill spoke to us and we all felt better for hearing him, however bad was the news.

Paper became very scarce. Newspapers were reduced to four pages only and it was nearly all news from the War Front. At work we had to economise with paper. Inter-departmental memos were sent on scraps of paper — not the usual quarto size.

Before the war, most people worked a forty-eight hour working week, including Saturday morning. Now workers started working overtime to produce munitions, planes and other essentials - night working became regular.

Shopping, for the housewife, was difficult. For all rationed food, you were registered at one shop only — that is a grocery store for groceries and a butcher’s shop for meat. Often there were queues, especially if the butcher had managed to get a few rabbits or some offal (not rationed), and people stood for ages hoping for a bit extra. Then one walked around for whatever vegetables or fruit were in season. Sweets were rationed and remained in very short supply. Most adults used their sweet coupons for children. I had never eaten a lot of sweets or chocolates but I do remember dreaming about being in a pre-war sweet shop and being overwhelmed with the sight of so many sweets.

Yet, although we managed to get into this new way of life, underneath there was the general worry about our loved ones who were away. Letter-writing took up a great deal of our time. We wrote to all the lads and lasses we knew who were away and we looked forward to receiving letters from them. I am afraid many were sunk by enemy action. Eventually, airgraphs were invented. These meant that people in the Forces had their letters put on microfilm and the tiny negatives flown to the UK and developed over here. We also had thin air mail letters from abroad. I think those overseas worried themselves very much when they heard how Britain was being bombed, so it was important that we kept in touch with them.

It was hard to keep one’s spirits up when the news was bad. I remember the anxiety that gripped us when our Forces were being driven back in North Africa. The names of places like Benghazi, Mersa Matru and Tobruk were sought for on maps and in newspapers. Such heavy hearts we had until Montgomery triumphed at El Alamein.

There was also the worry during the bombing of going to work and wondering if any of us would be the victim of a daylight raid. I thought of my mother on her own at home and if she would be all right. Fortunately, I can only remember two daylight warnings. Once I was on a bus going to work and, when the sirens went off, the bus stopped at a public air raid shelter and we all went down for about half an hour. Another time, I was at work and we all trouped down to the office basement, but only for a short while. So we were lucky. My brother and his future wife were in Plymouth and they suffered many daylight raids — as did many coastal towns in the south. Once, he and his wife were machine gunned in daylight by a Nazi plane. Luckily there were not hurt. When we went to work after a raid, there was always the worry about our fellow workers and such a relief when we all turned up. We really valued our friends in those days and I formed bonds which have lasted until today.

Eventually, as the war progressed, nearly everyone had relatives and friends on active service abroad and we were always worried about them. People moved about at short notice and letters went astray. I corresponded with my brother’s friend who was fighting in Burma (the forgotten war). I usually had a letter from him every few weeks. I suddenly realised I had not heard from him for about twelve weeks and decided to write to his mother, whom I had never met. She wrote back to say that the War Office had warned her not to expect to hear from her son for at least three months as he was on a special mission. I learned after that he was on the first Chindit operation under Orde Wingate, which was a Long Range Penetration into the Burma Jungle on foot. Their chance of survival was low, but their experiences enabled the Americans to plan their advance into Burma later, operation ‘Broadway’, but they went in with gliders.

Lots of people lost their homes and had to relocate in other places. Also, Civil Servants were moved from London and came to Birmingham. I worked with a number of people who had done this.

Gradually, we began to get used to a life of austerity. No patterned or flowered material was produced for ladies’ clothing. All dresses were plain coloured, with very little decoration. Of course, if you spent your coupons on dress material and made your own, you could make it as you wished. Lots of girls borrowed wedding dresses from sisters or friends. Weddings were a real headache. Sometimes they were rushed as men were called up or were posted abroad. Families rallied round with coupons or raided their larders for delicacies for the wedding breakfast. I went to a wedding where the families had, for months, saved the ingredients for the wedding cake. When it was cut, it was green inside. Whatever fat they had used must have been rancid. I wrapped mine up in a serviette and popped it in my handbag. Well, there was a war on! Honeymoons were generally very short. My brother and his wife (Ruth) got married in Plymouth (poor battered Plymouth) and went to Torquay for a weekend.

Most seaside places on the south coast were full of troops — the civilians moved inland - and all the beaches were mined.

Transport was good. You could get a train anywhere. It was probably packed with troops. Buses were plentiful in the city till about 11pm. The conductors were generally women. If you spent a day in the country, you could generally get a bus home at 8 o’clock in the evening. When my brother got married, we got a train from Birmingham straight through to Plymouth. Of course during the bombing things were very different, but somehow people got to work.

As well as having ration books and clothing coupons, we also had identity cards. I cannot remember ever being asked to produce mine — and I still have it.

Children suffered a lot educationally. Some were evacuated and had to share schools with country children. Those at home also had part-time schooling as many teachers had to accompany the evacuees. There were fewer teachers also, because of many being called up for war work. As time went on and people began to settle into a routine, children had their dinners at school to free parents for war work. Some children benefited from being evacuated, having good food and fresh air for the first time in their lives; others fared badly with unsuitable foster parents as none of the new homes were vetted beforehand.

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