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I feel it is necessary when you are reading my recollections, to bear in mind that my perceptions, thoughts and feelings towards the war were those of a child. I saw the war with a Childs eyes and so many of the dangers fears and feelings that were had by my parents simply passed me by. I was born in 1932 in Froddingham, Scunthorpe and was one of three sisters. I was piggy in the middle as they were one year either side of me. We lived in a creepy, three story, Victorian house not far from the Queen’s Hotel and the club where my parents worked full time. Because they were so busy, we tended to have young girls aged about 15 fresh out of school to live in and look after us. Some we loved dearly, others were less kindly thought of and we were happy to see those go.
The war was quite a frightening almost daunting time, even though we didn’t always understand what was going on. You had to black out completely and not streak of light was to slip out from the houses. I remember we had to buy all this thin black material from Fent Stores in Belgrave Street it was about 2’5 a yard, you can still buy it to line curtains with today. You also had to criss cross brown masking tape over the windows to stop glass flying all over, in the event of being bomb blasted. It looked a little like they had been leaded at a glance.
When it came to being bombed we all had to troop out to our little Anderson shelter. Dad was away in the fire service (mainly in Nottingham, Derby and Hull). That left mum having to work in their club to cover his leave, so we were either on our own, or with one of these young lasses who looked after us. In a really bad attack, because we were so near the steel works, we had to go across the road to the large communal shelter. It was horrible down there, one really long gloomy and stinky room. Kids went down there to fool around during the day and weren’t above using it as a toilet. We didn’t go down their very often, I just remember the one time, during a bad raid when the houses shook because 4 or 5 bombs had just missed the works. Windows were cracked but the tape held the glass in place so the idea clearly worked.
I suppose it was for that reason (living near the works) that mum decided we would be better off in the Lincolnshire Wolds where she had grown up. My eldest sister went with my Dads Mother and my younger sister and I went to an aunt and uncle who didn’t have any children. Nor did they understand them really, but we were close to our cousins and my mother’s mum with whom I was quite close and fond.
The living during the war was different again in the countryside. Many of the men had been able to remain at home but there were also the introduction of these Land Army Girls, we even had an uncle marry one. There were also the Prisoners of War and the country folk didn’t seem to have the resentment that was felt by the people in the bombed towns. Some of the P o W’s were thought of quite well, they were seen as young people caught up in the war, the same as lads were in this country. The Germans and Poles where seen as good workers and clever for making slippers out of farmers glory and flower arrangements by cutting open metal tins and arranging them as a decoration.
There were other evacuees in the village where my sister and I stayed, these included a couple from Leeds and they stayed with a much older couple who had raised their own family. Those two cheeky city kids ran circles around that poor old couple.
I have two very opposing views of being sent away, I loved country life, playing in farm yards, going to a new school and been with a lot of mums family, there also wasn’t the same food shortages, there were eggs, jams and families kept pigs which people were willing to share. The down side was sopps, bread soaked in warm milk which was supposed to be good for us. It was like eating slime and I often just wanted to be sick afterwards, we prayed for one of our cousins to come round and eat it for us. Also it wasn’t easy being where we knew we where not really wanted.
Transport was at a minimum, we were one of the few families that had a car but with the fuel shortages it was all down to bike ridding. Where I was sent to, just had one bus a week to Grimsby and none went back to Scunthorpe so I suppose we were stuck.
Due to homesickness mother allowed us back home before the end of the war, it wasn’t like Scunthorpe had been targeted and bombed like Hull anyway. Ties with the countryside were not cut though and you could get a green card to have six weeks off school in harvest time when you were about 12 years or older. You had to work under a ganger lady and three children were expected to do the work of two ladies. I often think we did a bit more than our share, but didn’t see it in the minimal wages, if you wanted to be asked back you didn’t cause trouble and argue your case.
In hindsight the war was a little distressing for us children but on the whole it was an adventure. I’m glad I was a child at that time, blind to the dangers and darker side of war but aware of the community spirit and the need adults had to remain positive mainly for our sakes.

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