大象传媒

On of the slogans of the War effort was 鈥淢ake do and Mend鈥�, another was 鈥渨aste not want not鈥�, and to this purpose a lorry would pull up outside the school gates, about once a month, the driver would be shouting, and the air would be filled with the squeaking of day old chickens. Looking back now this was very cruel; children were being asked to bring old woolly jumpers etc. in exchange for a day old chick. I don鈥檛 even know if this trade was legal, but it was very exciting and I would dash up the Stourbridge Rd. to my Gran鈥檚 house, praying that she would be in and give me an old cardigan which I could exchange for a lovely fluffy chick. I was, and still am, animal mad. There was always an argument between Gran and me over this, because the poor chicks never lived more than a few hours, even though we put them in a box by the fire, and fed them bread and milk and, of course, the next day I would be in floods of tears because the chick had died, maybe it died happier in my care than left on the back of the lorry! We saved everything for the War effort, silver paper 鈥� not that we got much- our old clothes were made into rag rugs and I had a perpetual red ridge between my thumb and first finger from the scissors as it was my job to cut the rags into strips about 2ins. x 1ins., during the winter months when the rugs were being made. The strips of rag were sorted into colours with the bright reds and greens 鈥� which were very scarce 鈥� being saved for the diamond design in the centre. We only ever had one design 鈥� diamond centre surrounded by plain colours and a border in the Greek key pattern.

The streets were very dark and I often had to walk between All Saints Rd. and Stourbridge Rd from my house to Granny Gowers鈥�. I did have my torch with its shade out often I fell over. Granny had iron railings round her front garden and I remember falling on these, one dark night, and cutting my face really badly, the following week they were removed for the War effort for salvage and I was quite put out because if they had removed them the previous week I wouldn鈥檛 have hurt myself, but I missed those railings on which I used to tie my skipping rope and the Iron gate, which made a lovely squeaky noise when I was swinging on it 鈥� much to Grannies annoyance, but at least I was no longer told off for swinging it off its hinges.

One thing that made a big impact in our lives was the arrival of the American G.I.鈥檚 in 1943. they really did alter our lives, especially with Mom and I living opposite the camp. Mostly they were very kind to me but like all races there were good and bad. In fact my worst experience was with one of our own soldiers who had been injured and was recovering in the Military Hospital at Barnsley hall opposite my Granny Blackwell鈥檚 bungalow. He was dressed in hospital blue and he followed me across the fields behind the house at washingstocks. He tried to catch up with me but I could run faster than him and as I reached the gate and turned to latch it he exposed himself, I ran in to tell Granny and she chased him with the big bass broom and he ran for his life!!! The military hospital at Barnsley Hall was very full and I remember all the badly injured soldiers and airmen. They were pushed around in big wicker chairs, by less injured comrades and they always loved to chat to my grandparents and often we invited them for tea and cakes or food was brought out to the gate if they were in contraptions too big to get through the gate.

We always had a small Christmas tree which we decorated with our pre-war decorations. These were very much cherished and carefully wrapped up each year in tissue paper 鈥� even the paper was carefully used over and over again. I still have some of these decorations together with some brought during the war, which were made out of tin. Christmas Day was always shared with grandparents and any luxuries hoarded during the year, came out to make a Christmas cake or trifle. My Grandad and Granny Blackwell kept pigs. During the War you had to give the council half of every pig you reared. Every part of the pig was used. My Granny was very good at making brawn and sausages and a side of the pig would be cured to make bacon. Anyone who had helped to feed the pig with scraps would receive a small portion of meat when the pig was killed.

I would spend hours making paper chains out of newspaper which I would colour and be allowed to use some precious flour to make paste to glue them together. Christmas cards were sent a few days before Christmas 鈥� again mostly homemade鈥 never remember going to church at Christmas although we went every Sunday to pray for Dad. Father Christmas usually found me at Washingstocks and would leave me a stocking full of fruit, a shiny new sixpence, a piece of coal 鈥� I think that was for luck but it was also very useful for keeping us warm! Pencils, hankies and knitted clothes. Granny Blackwell also bought me a piano and paid for my lessons so some music might also be in the stocking. We never had individual presents from the family, everything was sent to Father Christmas. We had the wireless for entertainment and we all loved playing card games. There were many Christmas Whist Drives in the area and I played Whist from the age of 3 and we all won many prizes.

When Dad was eventually demobbed we all had to readjust. I was in awe of him and he spoilt me dreadfully resulting in arguments with him and Mom over discipline. I can remember if ever Mom reprimanded me I would yell at her 鈥淚鈥檒l tell my Dad!鈥� Dad did get his old job back at the Co-op but Mom鈥檚 health was not good and she was in and out of hospital and gradually Dad was an equal parent again. I think they had difficulty in re-adjusting. Dad had seen such dreadful things and he had enjoyed the camaraderie of his service pals and Mom and I had always been at home worrying whether he was dead or alive 鈥� at least he knew!! He had travelled the world, we had been no-where, he wanted to stay at home, we wanted to go further afield than Birmingham, but it all got sorted and my parents were married for nearly 60 years until Dad died in 1994.

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