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My father George Callender PC913 was moved to Plawsworth just as the war was beginning, and the house is still standing now. It was a very busy station, as it was on the A1 near to the main line railway, and the ammunition dump at Finchale Abbey.

My first memory is of about 1942; we were told at school about Drake waiting for the Armada and saying he would finish his game of bowls. In those days we went home at lunch time and I heard on the wireless that the soldiers were waiting to go into action, just like Drake had waited and I rushed back to school to tell the teacher.

One night I can remember my parents standing on the front step and watching flames in the sky, far in the distance. I was told that Binns in Sunderland had taken a direct hit and my father joked that he wondered if the quarterly bills would have been destroyed!

I can remember a landmine dropping in Chester Moor and my father told us that as he inspected the damage, the ARP man bobbed up behind him and said hands up! He got quite a shock.

One day my mother told us that Lord Haw Haw had been on the radio saying ‘near to Durham there is a little village called Pity Me and tonight it will be Pity Me’. Everyone was terrified. My mother said she couldn’t overemphasise how frightened everyone was, because they heard rumours the Germans were going to land and take all of the men prisoner, and rape all of the women.

One day we were taken to Finchale Abbey to see where some bombs had dropped and as far as I can remember there was some disturbance in the river.

An air raid shelter was built behind our house and my brother fell off the roof. He was only four or five years old, but he was saved because the pea sticks cushioned his fall.

There were some IRA prisoners in Cocken woods, and my father brought them home and put them in our washhouse. I remember my mother refusing to let my father give them drinks from our cups.

One day she was quite overawed to get a call from the Home Office, who wanted to impart some information to my father. Often he had to inform people in the village that their sons or relatives had been killed in action. One was the son of a lady in the village and he was shell-shocked after a submarine was hit.

Before the D Day landings the convoys were stationary along the A1 as far as we could see and my sister and I spoke to some of the troops and we told them to eat the Hawthorn hedges and we called it ‘bread and butter’. They all tried it and I can still vividly remember talking to them.

I was on a bus with my father and I saw a bonfire being prepared and I was told it was to celebrate VE day. It was at the Red Lion. Later for VJ Day, we had a street party and my mother made iced buns in red, white and blue. My father managed to get a large quantity of Italian ice cream and enjoyed dishing it out to the children.

My best friend was Elsie Rix, an evacuee from Liverpool and we attended the ENSA concerts in the Welfare Hall.

I can remember trying on my gas mask at school.

German Prisoners of War worked on the farm in the village and made carved toys. Our toys were all home made. My mother burned them, as she feared they were unlucky, much to my dismay. I can remember she bought a black doll one Christmas, which I had never seen before so it made a big impression.

My father was greatly patriotic, and went to volunteer, but being in a reserved occupation, he was advised to continue in his profession. His brother was serving in Germany and he was very popular was he didn’t eat sweets and brought us all of his rations from the Naafi. Otherwise the lady in the shop gave us the sugar from the bottom of the sweet jars.

This story was told by, and with the permission of Mrs Mary Clinton on Monday 29th November 2004 to Marianne Patterson of Age Concern Durham County.

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