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Starting from the first of September 1942, at the age of twenty years, I began my wartime career which was looking after children from the ages of seven months to five years in a residential nursery.

This was a large rambling house with spacious grounds, also a nursery school attached to the house. It was run by a nursing staff of matron, sister, assistants and probationers.

The children numbered up to 30. They were children whose parents were doing alternate shifts in the factories, and so they were looked after from Mondays to Saturday, when their parents came to fetch them for weekends.

All had their own lockers, beds and pegs, each with a symbol representing a flower or an animal. After a few months I decided to take my training for the nursery nurse's diploma, which I was able to take at the end of 2 years - real hard work, for although it was very interesting, it was very tiring, trying to cope with 10 babies for which I was responsible for 9 months.

The babies ward always seemed to me to have an atmosphere of sadness, for as one entered the day nursery, you saw babies whose ages varied from one month to 15 months. They would be sitting on the floor sucking their fingers or gazing at their playmates, having rather a hard time by being pushed over by Roger or Georgie. Both were illegitimate. There were very few toys - what there was, were made by the staff consisting mostly of cotton reels or stuffed animals which did not hold their interest for more than a few moments.

One small boy named Gary, aged 12 months, was rather a favourite of mine, mostly because I felt rather sorry for him. He was brought into the nursery looking very undernourished and covered in sores. His clothes were few and only fit for dusters, and he looked really bewildered with life. But after a few weeks he began to look cared for, filling out in body, but he still had rather a sad look in his eyes. Almost as though he did not trust those attending him so I gave him quite a lot of individual attention, which in time gave him a feeling of security, and he would wait patiently for the afternoon, which was my off-duty, when he would come down to the staff room, playing on the rug at my feet, listening to the wireless, or else we would go for a walk 'round the park. So we became very good friends.

The day in the baby wing started at 7am with a very strict routine. They had their meals at miniature tables, and all had good appetites. And for their outings we had to rely on mothers bringing prams, although we had one large nursery pram which would sit 5 babies, one behind the other, but if we did not have enough staff on duty, they had to content themselves by playing in front of the open windows.

The day finished at 6.30pm having started bathing at 5pm and each were bathed and tucked snugly into their cots for the night. At the end of 9 months, I was transferred to nursery school, where I was responsible for the physical side, by looking after their hygiene, clothes and feeding.

There was a nursery teacher who was very popular amongst the children. She taught them simple nursery rhymes, and to be independent by guiding them with helping each other at meal times, washing and dressing. She took them for walks, and was always in the background at times of free play to give help to any child that required help. I found her very helpful and learnt a lot by way of the psychological points necessary in the older child.

When the teacher was off-duty, which was 4.30pm, the children were left in my charge when they were allowed to run in the garden, until their turn came for bathing, which was usually over by 7pm. And they would all kneel at the foot of their cots, hands clasped together,ready for prayers. They all looked so sweet, with their faces shining from soap and water, hair brushed and clean, night attire on, and each face shining with happiness.

Each child had a choice every night of their favourite hymn, which was usually Jesus Love Me, except a small boy of 3 years named Michael, who had been in the nursery since the age of 10 months. He usually wanted the song, 'Daisy,Daisy'. After this they were all tucked down with goodnight kiss, and the door always left ajar for any child who was afraid of the dark.

Another nine months went by, and it came time for me to go on night duty - this lasting for one month. During the night I had to do ironing, prepare breakfasts and make rounds of the children every 2 hours, mend the clothes and do cleaning. Also attend any sick child who was in isolation, unless it was contagious - then they were removed to the hospital.

The nights used to go very quickly, so that the months soon passed by, after which I had two months training to do at a day nursery with babies from a few weeks old, bathing and feeding them until their mothers fetched them at night. During the time the babies did not require attention, sleeping in their prams, matron would give us lectures on child care, also ask questions.

Every Tuesday and Thursday evening I attended lectures in Stoke Welfare Centre and on Friday afternoons, a class of sewing, such as making a dress for a child, and learning the proper ways of patching, darning and other various types of sewing, all necessary in the exam.

Also we had cooking and sick nursing, consisting of a month at each. The time soon passed and I was able to take my exam, which was 3 hours of practical work and 3 hours of theory, which I was lucky enough to pass — this being the proudest day of my life, having succeeded in my one ambition, to become a qualified children’s nurse.

For a further 12 months, I stayed at the nursery, working in the various departments as staff nurse, after which, I made up my mind to go back into a private house as a nanny to one or two children.

And so the day came, after four years, when I once again packed my cases to leave the institutional life of Rostherne, but not without shedding a few tears on looking for the last time at the place where I had spent so many happy hours. And I know I shall miss the children’s voices, and the laughter and fun of the nurses. But I hope that the nurse taking my place finds as much happiness as I did.

3:15, 1946 the first April, Saturday.

The End.

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