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Growing up in the War 1939-45 Part 2

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During this time life was very different to usual. People were much closer to one another. They went out on the street to talk and exchange news If bananas came in at the shop at the end of the road, word went round and quickly a queue formed at the green grocers. Of course every one had a ration book and clothes coupons There were rumours of the 'Black Market', but nearly every one shared in the same limited diet and range of clothes. Although food was rationed I never remember worrying about what we were going to eat. There were few sweets but maybe we were better off for that. We grew our own vegetables and planted fruit trees to give more variety to our meals. At the end of the garden we had some chickens and a white rabbit in a hutch that is until a fox took it one night. I remember the taste of the eggs we had and the difference between the taste of them and the eggs you buy today. Neighbours were very supportive of each other. The man who lived in the house at the bottom of the garden used to come through our garden to see how we were getting on. A new sense of community was born. The radio had a big role in all this. We all listened to favourites like Tommy Handley in Itma, Workers PlayTime, The Gang Show, and Vera Lynn.
I began to follow the battle diagrams in the newspapers which showed the pincer movements, thrusts and encirclements with black arrows. Names like Minsk, Smolensk, Thomsk, Leningrad and of course Stalingrad fascinated me. Again I had little idea of what it all meant.
Ewell was still a village at this time The pre war development of the suburbs had stopped due to the war. The centre of the village was almost unspoilt, the farms were still there, the barns and old cottages that were later pulled down or converted still stood. The fields at Priests Hill were covered with corn each summer. The Upper mill still worked and the blacksmith was busy. The children of the new streets at East and West Ewell mingled at the old school in West Street with the children of the old village families.
One beautiful sunny evening in June 1944 I was looking out at the back gardens from my bedroom window. There was a beautiful calm sky. As I watched I witnessed it fill with long lines of aircraft flying parallel to our road travelling in a south westerly direction. Every plane towed a glider. They were low enough to almost see the figures of the men on board. The sky seemed to be full of aircraft. The whole procession moving at a constant speed took a long time to pass by. It was like a vast convoy on its way somewhere unknown to the South. People came out of the houses and stood in their back gardens to watch, they were subdued and over-awed. What was taking place and where were they going? I recognised that they were Dakotas towing Horsa gliders. On the news next morning we heard ‘Ike’ announce the invasion of Normandy. We had seen part of the beginning of ‘D’ day.
Later there came a night when I was awoken in my bed by an unfamiliar roaring sound and saw a moving red light low in the sky over Station Avenue. My mother called to me from her room and we rushed downstairs to get to the Morrison shelter. As we panicked trying to unlock the dinning room door, the roar suddenly cut out and there was a total silence. My mother, crying and shaking, could not get the key into the lock. Bang! The front door blasted open, the big explosion shook the windows. We were unhurt but for sometime afterwards my Mother suffered because of the fact she had locked the door. The next morning I cycled off to find the source of the explosion. I found that two houses in Riverholme Drive had been hit and were destroyed almost completely. It was said some people had died. This was the first time we heard the sound of a ‘Doodlebug’ as we called Hitler's new secret weapon; and the silence when its engine cut out and it plunged towards the earth. From then on we heard it many times by day and night to the end of the hostilities.
We saw few enemy aircraft. Raids were rare. But I see the picture of a grey sky with low cloud. I am looking out to see the weather and just at that moment a Dornier bomber bursts through the cloud in a steep dive drops its bombs and climbs back to the safety of the clouds. It was over in seconds. I saw all the swastika markings on the sides quite clearly. Did I dream it? No. It was probably a random event. A hit and run raid, drop the bombs and head for home. No time to select a target just get out of here as quickly as possible.
By now the significance of these events was becoming clear. There was the threat of death or damage at any moment from a ‘Doodlebug or a V2 rocket. The former you heard coming, the latter you did not. People were trying to kill you and terrorise the population. Listening to the radio and following the War maps; hearing from the front directly through sound recording of the airborne landings at Arnhem, the crossing of the Rhine,and the thousand bomber raids on German cities, made much more real what was taking place.
VE day seems some how to be a special day that came upon us in the midst of all the terror. On the evening of VE day I went to Green Lanes where a hugh bonfire had been lit. It was after a day of street parties, each road had its own party. The Morrison shelters were re-erected in the street to make a stage. The Union Jack Flags hung everywhere and bunting linked the street lamps. Everybody seemed to be out on the street making their contribution. People were jubilant, euphoric, open to one another as never before. The fear and anxiety which had been overshadowing the community was suddenly no more. Everyone talked to each other, helped each other, stopped keeping each other at a distance. We sat down to a tea made from the carefully saved rations, sandwiches, iced cakes, jellies and blancmange, lemonade and Tizer. There followed a series of impromptu performances by people living in the road, singing, conjuring, comedy acts. followed by community singing. ''There'll be Blue Birds Over The White Cliffs Of Dover, Just You Wait and See, There'll be Peace and Laughter, and Love Ever After, Tomorrow, Just You Wait and See''. The words of the song that Vera Lynn sang so often during the war, that time was now.
It was all very exhilarating to be part of and a sense of freedom was in the air. We all wandered through the street and ended at the Bonfire in Green Lanes . By now the fire was dying down . We could edge in closer to look into the the embers that glowed as the evening breeze blew now and then. Tired after the excitement of the afternoon we were in a more reflective mood. Two or three boys had built a hot air balloon out of balsa wood covered with tissue paper and they struggled to hold it over the fire so it would fill with warm air. The moment came when slowly it began to rise into the darkening sky. Caught by the breeze it sailed gently away along Green Lanes disappeariing mysteriously into the night.
My father was not there to see all the celebrations. He moved from India to Sumatra in preparation for the invasion of Japan. The dropping of the Atomic Bombs changed the situation. Japan surrendered and the invasion was cancelled. My father said later that it had been his greatest fear to be come part of that invasion.
One a sunny day in the middle of the morning there was a knock at the front door. I went to see who was there. Standing in the porch was a sun-tanned soldier, a metal trunk at his feet. I did not recognise him - he was a stranger. A moment passed and
then I called over my shoulder to my mother 'Mum. Dad's here'! And she came running from the kitchen. The rest of that day I cannot remember. It was a strange blur. In a moment my relationship to my mother changed. I felt shut out and it took time to reconnect with each other and for him too it must have been very difficult to come back home. What I do recall is looking into the much travelled metal trunk for the presents he had brought home, to find hidden in amongst his kit a German camera and a sword stick, he carried every where when he was in Sumatra because it was so dangerous on the streets..
The trees that line the edge of Meadowview Road were planted by my father and some other residents as a memorial to ending of the War and a celebration of returning home in peace. But the spirit that had showed itself at the time of VE day was already disappearing to be replaced by disillusionment and not every one wished to contribute or volunteer to dig holes and plant the trees. They did not see the point. The brief moment of sharing had gone. Austerity was to come and with it the return to the old attitudes.
'' There'll be Blue Birds Over The White Cliffs of Dover Tomorrow, Just you wait and see. There'll be Love and Laughter and Peace ever after, Tomorrow, Just you wait and see'' went the song. Could anything live up to that dream?

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