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By Betty Cross, born 1926

Betty was only 13 when war broke out, but she clearly remembers so many things. She was scheduled to be evacuated from her family home 8 miles outside of Liverpool, eventually to stay at the home of Mr. And Mrs. Jones, an elderly couple residing in Holywell, Wales. Mr. Jones had been gassed during the First War, and he and Mrs. Jones generously wished to help in the Second War any way they could. They looked after her for the best part of a year, during which Betty underwent all manner of environmental changes. Her new school was co-educational, unlike the girl’s school she’d left. Boys peering in the gym to spot the odd bare leg exposed in there funny gym-short pants were an everyday experience. Little ‘I fancy you’ notes were left in the inkwell to flutter the heart.

There was a celebrity visit to Betty’s school from the then eminent playwright and author Emlyn Williams, who regaled the children with the opportunities his education there had given him, born very poor, but instilled with a solid teaching how he’d gone on to fame and fortune, which he owed to their teachers.

In a little over six months the public were advised that there was a reduction in potential danger around Liverpool and environs; of course, they were wrong. Liverpool was heavily bombed, but the family of seven had made provisions. There was the additional problem that the school had no air raid shelter, but that was constructed when the children returned home for the Christmas season of 1939-1940.

Betty’s father was a toolmaker and inspector by trade, and this was a sensitive job during wartime conditions, but he joined the Home Guard to contribute to the war effort. First called the Land Defence Volunteers, their initials LDV soon stood for the gentle tease of ‘Look, Duck & Vanish’ by their friends.

She remembers that they had absolutely no equipment at the beginning of the war, only a black armband with the initials on them, and the will to defend their country. Betty’s father built an Anderson Shelter in the back garden, ultimately housing Betty’s Mum and Dad, four more brothers and sisters, Grandma and two neighbours. Dad made bunk beds out of doors removed from the house, installed a hammock, and installed a fire. They had a kettle for cocoa, and finally, when bombing got so frequent, they didn’t bother with the house at all, and settled nightly into the shelter for a night’s uninterrupted sleep.

Mum was remarkably frugal, but then, everyone had to be, due to rationing. Since the family was so large, Betty reckoned they were better off than many, as proportionate rationing applied. She remembered that for the duration of the conflict, her Mother would eat only the top cut off from a hard-boiled egg. The kids got the rest. Mum and Dad only the little white top. The children were constantly reminded that ‘men’s lives were at risk for them’, so nothing should be wasted. Frugality ruled, to the point of requiring the children to write very small and to use the margins of paper on all schoolwork, to exact the most out of every sheet of paper. Toys were repaired and renewed by volunteers in order that the soldiers recuperating from wounds in a nearby hospital would have them to give to their children at Christmas. Everyone who could work did. Betty’s older sister became a nurse at the soldiers’ hospital, walking five miles each way to get there, only occasionally getting a lift, what with no traffic as a direct result of fuel rationing. All books were given extended lives by being passed on from child to child, adult to adult, made possible by the rules of never marking, dog-earing, or otherwise damaging a book.

Betty’s social life centred on church activities, Girl Guides (she became an officer), and a circle of friends. This group of boys and girls, rather innocently knowing each other, became life-long friends, but for some that life was, sadly, too short. One boy, Roy Fisher, would be killed in France. Another, a vicar’s son, was killed in an explosion whilst serving in the Scot’s Guards. His father was particularly shattered, having laboured under the delusion that inasmuch as the boy was a vicar’s son, he would get some sort of dispensation from death in war. She remembered Edna, George, and Arthur, as all being in this group of friends. They all went off to various services, save for George, who struggled psychologically with being unfit to serve due to a childhood illness. Betty become something of an information centre for all the friends, as they were not permitted to write to each other, but would write to Betty and she would pass on the news and messages. One tall young man, Tom Cross, would become Betty’s husband of more than fifty-five years.

This story was submitted to the People’s War site by Henry Wheeler of the ´óÏó´«Ã½ Radio Shropshire CSV Action Desk on behalf of Betty Cross and has been added to the site with her permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

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