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This story has been submitted to the People’s War website by Anne Wareing on behalf of Joan Couch, the story is in her own words…

I was 9 years old when war was declared, to young to realise what this meant. My recollection of food shortages before rationing was my mother, my sister and myself getting up early on Saturday mornings at 7am and queuing at three different stalls on Burnley market. One for cheese, another for meat and bacon and one for sweets and chocolate. We had to go this early or they would have been sold out.

One Sunday evening my parents had a frightening experience. They were wonderful parents and never left us alone except once in early 1942 when my grandma was ill, they had gone to visit her in Rossendale Road from Airdrie Crescent where we lived, when the air raid siren went.off. They were on their way home, it was only a quarter of an hours walk away, but you can imagine how they felt when they heard the siren. They almost ran home. My sister was 16 and so was capable of being able to look after me. Fortunately no bombs were dropped over Burnley this time, so you can imagine how they felt when they got home and saw us both waiting on the doorstep, frightened, but okay.

I met my future husband towards the end of the war. He worked at Earnshaw Bros. and Booth on Albert Street making gliders. He used to tell me about is older sister who had one or two American ‘friends,’ who kept him well supplied with chocolate and chewing gum. Not that he ever gave me any, no doubt he gave it to other members of his family, if ever there was any left over.

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