大象传媒

I was 10 2 months after the outbreak of war!
The first impact as a family was hurriedly returning from Switzerland in July 1939, my father had been seconded to the ILO in Geneva in 1937 for 7 years! 2 years later he was warned by his English boss (Treasury Solicitor) to get family home otherwise we would be stuck in Geneva for the duration of the forthcoming war. Our Surrey home was let out on a 7 year contract, so we were homeless (refugees!) We found a two bedroomed flat, as were then 5 people I was sent away to school in Cooden, Sussex to reduce the pressure. When the wind was westerly, we heard the boom of guns in France, many of our lessons were in makeshift shelters (cellars). The headmistress moved the school to a hotel in Rock, Cornwall. For children wonderful. Holidays in Surrey, my parents found a home,were exciting, oblivious of the plight of airmen, dogfights cuaght in searchlights, purts of colours from gunfire and incredible spectacles as a burning plane fell earthwards were free son et lumiere displays. We local children would pick up parachute silk (for underwear) and perspex (for costume jewellery) One summer the school stayed open for those in or near large cities, we explored Cornwall by bicycle, beaches often emtpy of people. Tintagel almost noone about, easy to imagine Merlin in the cave, Arthur with his court.
For me war was remote, just reports on the radio, enhanced with letters from my parents, my father often unable to get home due to bombing on the railway line; in winter my mother wrote letters in bed to keep warm. Our boiler burned anthracite, rationed, for hot water only - bath were 3 inches for children and 5 inches for adults.
Rationing to a child never seemed a problem, we ate healthily: I remember revolting chocolates filled with unappetising brillcream looking mistures: no luxuries like cream: powdered eggs, unless chickens/ducks/geese were kept - a constant temtpation to foxes in Surrey: being decidedly plump my clothing ate coupons, no nice dresses into which to change from tunics, lisle stockings often mended with special hooks, everything with the Utility label. Though supposedly illegal all housewives traded coupons, we received an occasional parcel of sugar (weighted down with a tin of guava jelly) from Mauritian cousins, sugar would be exchanged for clothing coupons, meat etc.
From Rock my next stage of education took me to a school evacuated to Newquay. woderful to roam in town, hockey and cricket on the beaches, swimming, the thrill of summer visiting basking sharks; sneaking out to the ice-cream man - an Italian under house arrest - delicious! Many other school also in Cornwayll joined for a special service in Truro Cathedral, I can still hear the sound of massed voices filling the building, even as a teenager my hairs on my back stood on end. Many american servicemen were stationed nearby, mostly airmen, a great source of chewing gum; a somewhat rude awakening as they drunkenly serenaded us in the strteet below the dormitories. D-Dau - the golden vlice on the radio (how we swooned at the newscaster's voice) made us realise why a few days previously the horizon appeared obliterated by warships of all sizes. Closetted in Cornwall the war seemed so far away, only the occasional tragedy as someone's father, uncle or relative was killed.
However home in Surrey the war could not be forgotten - there were constant air=riad sirens, planes overhead, bombers and fighters, barrage balloons, later doddlebugs - never knowing when the engine stopped whether it would drop straight down or glide onwards - we would sigh with relief as we heard the explosion elsewhere, selfishly not at that moment caring about others injured or killed. My father dug a huge hole for an Anderson Shelter, the hole continually filled with water in the heavy clay. Indoors we had a Morrison Shelter, a large steel mesh sided heavy steel table, into which the whole household had to go, in which we were supposed to sleep at night. As there were constant visitors - we all decided it was better to die quickly in bed rather than be suffocated and squashed. Later my father dug a trench by the potato patch, once a lawn, = we found more shrapnel in the trench than outside.
My father's mother, mainly French, died at the time of the Munich crises, her duaghter, my aunt, stayed on in Paris. As the occupying forces advanced she moved south, reaching the lower Pyreneese where she got a passage to England. For a while she lived with us in Surrey, later found a London flat, worked for the Free French in General De Gaulle's office, she admired him but did not like him. Her brother, my uncle, served in WWI as a gunner., sitting in the open at the back of the plane!, he was recalled to the RAF in WWII to reconnoitre, under cover, places for aircraft to land in Cyprus and Crete (his diary in at the war museum) - he left by sea as the german landed - unfortunately died at sea from a brain tumour.
My Norwegian mother had a sister working in Paris, at the American Hospital, she decided to stay and had a tough time. Her flat mate helped organise excape routes for British airmen - they both survived but on meagre fare, cold and damp, my aunt's insides never really recovered. She did get a long letter to my mother via an airman, who hand delivered it to my father in his office, she could very occasionally get Norwegian family news to us through the Red Cross. My mother had constant angst for her elderly parents, various sibling, cousins galore and many friends under German occupation. After the war we gradully learnt much of what had happened, including some who worked for the underground, some badly tortured, and others who had to escape. My grandfather was often taken to the cells, for rudeness, my grandmother would get him out on the excuse of dementia (he lived to a good age with a very clear brain!) We also learnt that my grandmother received parcels from Sweden, sent by ILO colleagues, she did not know the senders, the labels said "on behalf of Karen and Ralph" my parents. We did not know of this kindness either. My grandmother a heavy smoker, grew her own tobacco, dried it in the loft (in Norway!), then smoked the barely brown leaves in a long pipe - she rolled a cigarette from this "tobacco" when I visited he later - my throat and lungs took days to recover.
In Surrey, one evening, listening to the Brain's Trust, the door bell rang, a quick look to see if the blackout was sccure, in case it was the ARP or Police: I opened the door (once half glass, now shattered and boarded in) to see a Norwegian Sailor, he said in Norwegian "You must be my niece Anne", a likely story thought I, telling my mother the sailor at the door says he is my uncle. Her shriek confirmed it was a brother - Petter. He had escaped from Norway vai the Shetland Bus, sailing boat which plied between The Shtlands and Norway, he was immdiately enrolled into the Norwegian Navy - given special leave to see his sister. We had no information that he was in Britain. For two years running, Petter was on board the Motor-torpedo boat which collected the Christmas Tree for Kong Haakon (the king always had a tree from Norway). They would fly the red ensign until reaching Norwegian waters when their own flag would be hoisted. They were never stopped! Some of the crew with family close by made short visits. One year I went to Waterloo Station to meet a sailor with a Branch of Norwegian Fir - with a God Jul (Happy Christmas) label for my mother from Petter.
Emotive times, yet there was more to come.
My father had to attned court cases, as a Barrister for the crown (treasury Solicitors were all Barristers), my mohter decided to accompany him to Edinburgh, so they could have a Higland walking Holiday afterwards. Another uncle had had to leave Norway in a hurry, only time to don trousers, vest and jacket, no shirt nor socks, and no papers. He went by motor boat to Sweden (he claimed the boat was full of pregnant mothers). It took some time while retained in a camp for his affirmation that his sister was married to an English lawyer and civil servant, at last a ticket to fly to England, here he was again detained, this time in a camp near the railway ine near Surbiton, we would travel that way to London not knowing he was there! After more scrutiny he was given money and instructions to reach my father's London office, brother-in-law in Scotland! The office staff kinly clubbed together and he bought a ticket to Edinburgh, by this time very tired he just about managed to enter the Waverly Hotel - they thought he was a tramp (no shirt, or socks, unshaven and dirty!) he was being ushered out as my mmother walked in - she almost collapsed - the phone message from my father's office had yet to reach her. They still took the holiday, with Colin, my uncle, wearing my father's leagl outfit!
A cousin, a captain of a whaling ship, got to the U.S. here, somehow, the ship and crew were commandeered by the British Navy. Lars therefore wore a British Captain's uniform without speaking a word of English, he and his crew stayed together throughout the war, he only needed to understand weather forecast and emergency messages! At the end of the war the c
ship and crew were sent back to U.S. to demob, Lars decided to buy his buxom wife some lingerie, with little English he manually described the size of his wife's bust, hich he had not seen for a few years, he nearly got it right.
Another of my mother's brother, Hans=Robert, working on a merchant ship, prior to working as an Engineer in Norway (very many norwegians did a stint in the merchant Navy). The boat was taken over by the Germans, any crew that left would have been shot in the back! Berthed in Denmark, by a Swedish ship, Hans-Robert wrote his sister a letter, handed it to a Swedish sailor - that letter reached my mother.
Our house seemed to stretch at the seams, visitors of many nations, army, navy, airforce, on leave or passing through; social gathering of friends and Home Guard. We had two adult evacuees from Tooting in London, they had 3 times been bombed out. Daughter worked in London her mother sat all day in her curler and homemade hairnets (always cored in colourful corchetted flowers). curlers and net came off a little before 6.p.m. off she would go to the bpu for a guiness, or whatever was available, back home again would don curlers and net.
My father born in 1899, served in WWI, first in France, gassed, cured. then sent to Salonica by train. In WWII he joined the Home Guard, they were all like little boys, though am sure had the occassion arisen would hve been sinsible. Later in life he loved watchin "Dad's Army" and felt sure that some of the story lines were from his group! One of his responsibilities was camouflage - before taking his men on exercise he would lecutre on "Today's colour". He said that at ground level blue was not a colour to worry about, they then went to test out their camouflage techniques, and walked straight into a bluebell wood! Behim him my father heard mutters -"no need to worry about blue" He often tested out his ideas on the family - usually leaving us in fits of laughter. The large house, the loacl HQ for the Home Guard had to have two separated bedrooms, for those resting from Doodlebug watch, one for those who snored and the other for the few that did not.
On one occasion waiting with my mother for the train to London, a German airman with prachute glided past, he landed in the woods - was most relieaved to be found by two little boys (Home Gurad, Police, Canadian Army - stationed on the common - and others had searched for a few hours, there were many red faces as the boys hand in hand with this airman walked into the local police station. Another time seeing a doodlebug gliding towards us, seemingly following the railway lines, all on the platform fell flat, held our ears and breath - the rocket went on for about a mile with no damage. Lazy horses were known to jump high fences as bombs fell nearbye, Cows to calve early, probably animals were more scared than the humans. I don't remember real fear, anxiety yes. I was lucky.

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