大象传媒

This story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War site by Sarah Housden of Norfolk Adult Education鈥檚 reminiscence team on behalf of Marie-Claire Walsh and has been added to the site with her permission. The author fully understands the site鈥檚 terms and conditions.

I was born in war-torn London on September 2nd 1943. I was a very tiny baby as I was born a month early. Our house never took a direct hit, but it took the aftermath of one and was no longer safe to live in. Mum had already sent my eldest brother to live with my Gran and Grandad in the country to be safe, and we joined them near Tunbridge Wells after this bombing. When we were bombed out we were given blankets which had been made by ladies from the Canadian WI. They made a cot cover for my bed, with all their names embroidered on it. I still have it. We lost so much in the bombing, but then people came and stole what was left. You wouldn鈥檛 believe that people would steal after what had happened to us, but they did.

My Mum and Dad told me lots of stories about the war, and I shall tell some of them here. Mum told me that one day she was out shopping, and there was some bombing going on in the distance. Suddenly a woman started running and shouting in the street: 鈥淭hat鈥檚 my place they鈥檙e coming down at鈥�. I always feel sorry for that poor woman.

My Auntie stayed upstairs during air-raids because she said: 鈥淚鈥檓 not having the whole house come down on me!鈥�. On the day our house had a near miss Mum and Dad called upstairs afterwards to see if she was alright. A pale face appeared at the window and said she was.
My Uncle Philip was a tank driver and the tank turned over and trapped him. He called for help, but nobody rescued him, so he died.

Dad was in the army and was rescued at Dunkirk. He was away for much of the war, and Mum had trouble getting money out of the army for us to live off. Mum had her ration book, and had to do a lot of queuing for food.

We didn鈥檛 have a shelter in our garden, so during air-raids, we all went in the cupboard under the stairs. Mum always grumbled about Hitler a lot.

Gran and Grandad lived opposite the estate of a marquis. There were lots of deer on the estate. He was a nice man, and gave Gran a house to live in and a plot of land on which to grow vegetables. This helped to feed the family.

At the end of the war, everyone went up to Trafalgar Square. My Gran went too, even though she was old. She walked up bright as a button, she was so happy the war had ended. Mum and Auntie went too 鈥� they were all celebrating.

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