- Contributed by听
- mrsbxryan
- People in story:听
- Beryl Ryan
- Location of story:听
- Chesterfield, Derbyshire
- Background to story:听
- Civilian
- Article ID:听
- A3326528
- Contributed on:听
- 25 November 2004
I was nearly 9 years old when war started. I can remember getting my gas mask, ration books and identity card. My mum and her friend used to always be knitting socks, balaclavas, operation socks, gloves, scarves - all for the army. Then in 42 my mum died by then I was 11. My sister was 10, my brother 7. My dad's mum brought us all up, she was a marvellous lady although she had rhumatics bad so I used to come home from school Tuesday and Friday in the dinner time and mix dough for bread. It was alright till the flour started to get a nasty colour and then we had to start siving it to get the bits out. The shopping was also a bit rough. We used to go to the Co-op to get the rations of food, but we didn't starve.
My father worked on Sheepbridge Works during this time. When the sirens went for the air-raids, we used to go in the air-raid shelter till it was over - we could hear the bombs dropping over Sheffield. My cousin was in the airforce - he was killed when he was 22. My uncle was in the army but he came back. I left school in 1944. I started work at the Jam Factory on Whittington Moor, of course the war ended in 1945. The celebrations were great. It was greater still to see the boys and girls on Demob Leave.
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