大象传媒

(This story was submitted to the site by Three Counties Action on behalf of Mrs Goodwin and has been added to the site with her permission. Mrs Goodwin fully understands the site's terms and conditions).

Mrs Brodie lent or gave us a very small haversack of which I had with my nightdress and change of clothes in. I don鈥檛 know what the others had; that was Mum, George and Bob. We left Mead Plat one Saturday morning, the day before war was declared on Germany, September 3rd 1939. Leaving my sister Kath crying on the doorstep. Dad and Fred were at work and I don't remember the journey, I was a bad traveller so I may have been ill all the way.
We got out of the train at Rugby station, then with the headmaster teachers and all the other children we walked two a breast up a hill to the cattle market. We had to go in a big shed with a notice over the door that said, 鈥淧igs only鈥� it did not go down very well with the big boys. In single file we walked past some ladies who gave us a brown paper carrier bag each with two days rations in, to give to whoever we where going to be put with, I know there was a small tin of corn beef and a packet of biscuits but can't remember what else was in there.

We were then put in single decker buses that took us to Dunchurch down country lanes, something most had never seen before, there seemed to be a great excitement about it. When we arrived in the village square I think the whole village was standing there to see us arrive. We then all walked down a lane to the village school where we were looked over and sorted out, in the end there was just Mum, George, Bob and myself left, no-one wanted a mother with three children.

In the village square, one side of the Church there were two little thatch cottages the other side of the Church was the old school house and old school that had been converted into a house. So it was decided that Mum would go to the schoolhouse with Mr and Mrs Baker, who were teachers in Ruby school. George and Bob went in the old school with Mr and Mrs Dews the retired village headmaster (both in their late 70's). I was to go to Mrs East in one of the cottages, Mrs East was 73, I was to stay there for the next 4 years.

The cottage door opened into the only room downstairs next to the old black cooking range, where Mrs East did most of her cooking. There was a cupboard door when open there were the stairs that took you up to the 1 bedroom, next to the stairs was a pantry that had a gas cooker, downstairs had gas for light, we used a candle for up stairs. Just outside the back door was a lean to where a water tap was and a wood bench with an enamel bowl on it. I was to wash there every morning for the next 4 years. In the winter I was allowed the water from the stone hot water bottle and we did have some very bad winters. Snow half way up the door, freezing cold. I cleaned my shoes out there and later as time went on I would scrape and peel potatoes, carrots and shell peas.

A bucket toilet was at the bottom of a very small garden, in a brick building with a tiled roof, inside the top of the roof was full of black cobwebs with big holes in, I said more prayers sitting there than in any Church praying a spider would not come out of one of the holes.

I disgraced myself the first night - I wet the bed! Something I often did at home but no one thought to tell Mrs East, I think it was nerves because I never ever did it again. Like I used to jump in my sleep, and when I say jump I mean jump, leave the mattress waking myself up and I never did it at Mrs East, I did it back home and nearly all through my married life, but I don鈥檛 anymore that is why, it must have been nerves.

The first morning George and Bob came across to see me Bob was thrilled to bits, he had found a frog and he had it in his picket. Mrs East said we should go and see our mother, the house frightened me, I had never been to such a big house, with it鈥檚 big green door. When it opened this stern white faced woman with black hair done in what was called earphones, stood there and said 鈥測es what do you want鈥�, 鈥渨e want to see our mum鈥�, 鈥� you can not, she is resting, it has all been very upsetting for her鈥�, then the door shut. I really thought this woman had locked our mum up, and would not let her out. It must have been through all the films that I had seen on a Saturday morning. If I had been older I would have known mum was lapping it up, this was right up her street! Mother did emerge in the evening to see us it was like that, for the next four years. We saw little of her, other evacuees would cry sometimes saying they wanted their mum, it鈥檚 all right for you your mum is here - I never used to say anything, but many times over the next four years I used to wish she were home.

We settled sown, exploring our new surroundings, getting to know new friends, going to the village hall for school. I went to the Methodist Sunday school, and went on quite a few outings with them.

Mrs East as I was said before was seventy-three, when I went there she was about five feet tall, stocky built and always wore black or navy with a square lace bib, pined to the neck of her dress. She always had a wrap over pinafore on in doors with an apron over the top, she had a different apron for different jobs, a sacking one for doing the fire and black leading the range, a navy one with white stripes for cooking, a white one when making the beds and a white one with lace around it when we had tea. What I liked most of all was her Fox furs, one for everyday and one for best. They were always put away in a box, and I did like the way the Fox鈥檚 mouth opened too clip onto the other side when around her neck. I was always going to have one when I grew up.

When I was a child I didn鈥檛 think how wonderful she was for her age but I do now and often wonder how she did everything. Fried breakfast or cooked porridge was done on the gas cooker. We always had treacle on porridge, no sugar in tea. All the sugar was saved for jam and wine making, sugar was rationed like most foods, and everyone had a ration book. Most foods were only a few ounce鈥檚 a week. I know cheese was only one and a half ounce鈥檚 a week per person, though milk was rationed most people managed to make some cream cheese. Mrs East used to hang it in muslin in the lean to, where I washed. I could not stand the smell of it and could never bring myself to eat it.

Most of Mrs East 鈥榮 cooking was done on the range; dinner was always midday with lots of suet puddings. Some days a meat one, other days a sweet one with treacle or jam, but my favorite was spotted dick, because it had custard on it. Tea was bread and butter with home made jam, a scone or bun or a piece of cake. Supper was a cup of cocoa with a biscuit. Nothing in-between meals like they do today, sweet ration was 2 oz鈥檚 a week, I was allowed a 2oz bar of chocolate on Saturdays that cost two and a half pennies (about 2p today).

In the spring someone used to come from Daventry and bring Mrs East lambs tails I don鈥檛 know how she used to cook them but it was a sweet tasting meat but no one seems to believe me, they say you can not eat lambs tails.

Mrs East had one son George who worked for an undertaker his wife Gladys was very nice (I used to wish she was my mum). They had one daughter Sylvia; she was five weeks younger than myself we got on well together, they lived in the next village Billon going towards Rugby. I spent a lot of weekend there and school holidays. I was to walk there and back hundreds of times over the next four years sometimes after school with a message. We walked everywhere even to Rugby about 3 miles sometimes getting a bus back.

Mrs East was always singing, hymns or old song鈥檚. 鈥淪he was only a Bird in a gilded cage and little brown jug I love you, was two she used to sing most. She dug up her little garden to grow potatoes. They asked everyone to grow vegetables in the war. Mrs East had a wireless run by a battery that had to be recharged at the Garage at the other end of the village. We listened to the news, workers play time, IT-MA and Saturday evening in the winter when the battery was getting low we heard the news only. When it finally went, I took it to the garage to have it recharged; that would take a week.

Mrs East was a great one for visiting not just in the village Bilton, Old Bilton, Rugby, Thurlaston, Hillmarton, Barby, Daventry and once to Coventry before it was bombed. I remember her showing me the statue of Peeping Tom not as it is today it was a statue of a boy leaning out of a window.

We always had to show our respects when someone died there were quite a few in the four years that I was there. The person was always laid out in the front room, only once I saw someone in the bedroom. You were always taken to see the dead person first, a few remarks where said about the person 鈥渉ow peaceful they look鈥�, or 鈥渢he pain still showed in their face鈥�, 鈥渢hey would be pleased with the way they have been laid out鈥�, if it was a woman 鈥渟he is in her best nightdress鈥� or 鈥渟he had saved this nightdress for when she died鈥� or if it was a man it was often said 鈥渢hat is the suit he was married in鈥� or 鈥渢hat is his best suit鈥�. I could never make out why a lady had a nightdress on and a man went in his suit, I used to puzzle over it a lot. We then all went into the backroom to have tea and cake; the whole conversation was about the person we had just seen. Mrs East always took some tea if only half a packet (tea was rationed), a jar of homemade jam, with a bottle of homemade wine. It was received with many thanks.

Mrs East was very Victorian in her outlook of a lot of things specially children. They should speak only when spoken to not ask questions and never listen to grown ups talking. So all visits were quite boring to me, because they were all older people, never had any children for me to talk to; even today I can feel alone in a room full of people. I took my knitting; I used to knit mittens for different people in the village but some of their friends did not like the needles clicking so I would be given a book to read, very few books had pictures in. One old lady used to give me her scrapbooks to look at, they were lovely, filled with picture post cards and birthday cards, and I quite lost myself in them.

When you can鈥檛 read there was nothing to concentrate on so it was difficult not to listen to what people were saying. The general topic of conversation was the war, what had happened or was happening, who had just been called up, who had just lost someone or had someone injured in some way, it was always 鈥渢hey will never be the same again鈥�, I used to wonder why, but dare not ask because they would realise I had listened. Rationing was a great topic how or where you could get and so and so, how you could save here and there. I think Mrs East was an expert at it, who had just had a new arrival, babies arrived, they were not born, you never heard of someone having a baby. So when a girl at school told me that my mum was having a baby I could not wait to get home and tell Mrs East. Oh dear, what did I do wrong? She said 鈥測ou wicked girl you should not say things like that, you should not know anything about babies鈥�, I went to bed that night without my cocoa. Just before we came away from anywhere the conversation always turned to mother, in a quiet voice and nod of the head towards me, they went on about her. Whey they went on about her and why I refer to her as mother I will write about later.

Mrs East made Jam and wine, I was to pick many a basket full of Dandelion heads and sloes for wine making. Blackberries, and cranberries go to Dorothy Pugh鈥檚 grandmas to pick blackcurrants for jam and jelly. Many times she said go to Mr or Mrs so and so they said you could pick the windfalls of the cooking and eating apples, wild rose-hops for syrup. After a windy day I used to collect twigs for the fire, acorns for the farmers pigs. No wonder the village people used to say here comes red riding hood! I was so thick I thought it was because I had rosy cheeks. As time went on I had more jobs, running errands for Mrs East and Mrs West in the cottage next door and Mrs Lowe in one of the arms houses. I used to cut the grass on and around Mr East grave; there were three other graves we looked after. Every other Monday dinnertime I took the rent for the cottage seven shillings and six pence (63p today) to the Dun Cow Inn. When I was eleven I started a paper round quite a big one, halfway around the village right down the Daventry road and right to the bottom of the Southam Road which was quite long and the big houses had long drives they always had four or five papers each, but I am afraid they did not some days.

The village had two main roads going through it, London to Coventry and Southam to Rugby. Lots of convoys went through some had a rest in the village sometimes. Some soldiers slept the night along the Southam Road. When I went along in the mornings some were shaving, some drinking tea, they used to say 鈥済ot a paper love鈥� so I used to give them one, for those that had four and five papers. I did not really think it was wrong they were always telling us that we should do what we could for our troops. When the troops were in the square, Mrs East always sent me out with a pocket of cigarettes to give to them she used to get them in especially for them.

I did not like the people in the big houses once going up the drive of one house I took an apple off an apple tree, the next morning a man came out waving a stick and said the maid had seen me and if I ever did it again he would tell my headmaster. Another house had a girl about my age that spoke to me through a window every morning. I never saw her at school she told me that the room she was in was her classroom and she had a governess. I did not know what a governess was but thought how lucky she was to have a classroom all to herself or was she? One morning the governess came in and didn鈥檛 she half carry on and told us both off and slammed the window with a bang. I never saw the girl in her classroom again I bet it was a maid that told on us. I often thought how lonely she must have been.

We collected the peoples paper money every Saturday morning it took me all morning. Some had the money ready but some wanted to chat. I never had to ask for money at the big houses they paid their bill every so often at the shop that is when it came out that they were papers short. I never let on but they knew at the shop because after then if a convoy was in the village they would say with a smile and a wink 鈥淏etty, you had better take two extra papers today鈥�. They were always pleased with me; I was the only one that collected the right money, right down to a half a penny. The farmer was to say the same when I did the milk round when I was on a farm a few years later.

漏 Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.