大象传媒

This story was submitted to the people鈥檚 War site by Norfolk Adult Education鈥檚 reminiscence team on behalf of Elizabeth Marais, and has been added to the site with her permission. The author fully understands the site鈥檚 terms and conditions.

I was born in South London in 1923. When I left school I went to work at the Norwich Union which had been arranged by my father. I thoroughly disliked it there and one day I walked out. I wandered through the city wondering how I was going to explain my action to my father. Walking past the fire station I saw that they were advertising for firewomen, so I went in and signed up. It was 1941 and I was eighteen years old when I joined the fire service. To start with I worked in the office at the fire station which wasn鈥檛 very different from the Norwich Union, but my fellow workers were much friendlier. After a short while I was moved to Fire HQ at Hethersett where I began working in the stores department with an officer called Charlie Todd. This entailed making several visits to Norwich by staff car. One day he asked me if I鈥檇 like to take the wheel and try driving, but not to tell anyone as it wasn鈥檛 official. This happened on two occasions.

Later on when the air raids began on Norwich we were all told to report to Norwich Fire Station if there was a raid. I lived with my parents on The Avenues and had to cycle to the fire station. We girls were given the task of making Spam sandwiches and filling urns of tea for the firemen fighting fires. One evening the Fire Force Commander came in and asked 鈥淐an any of you girls drive?鈥� I said I could, but didn鈥檛 add that I鈥檇 only had two unofficial lessons! He told me to take the back seat out of one of the staff cars and fill up with sandwiches and urns of tea to take to the various fire sites. He told me I could take someone with me to help so I asked my friend Betty to accompany me. As we left the station with a crashing of gears, Betty said to me: 鈥淚 didn鈥檛 know you could drive鈥�. I replied: 鈥淚 can鈥檛 really but I鈥檒l do my best鈥�. Although she was very nervous Betty decided to stay with me.

It was horrendous driving over rubble, lengths of wood and what remained of the many buildings in the heart of the city. There was a ghastly smell of burning buildings and bodies. As we drove through some of the streets there were people crying, trying to gather up a few of their belongings from the shattered remains of their houses. Our refreshments were strictly for the firemen but in some circumstances we gave them to citizens who had nothing left of their homes.

At one stage, just outside the hospital, a fireman asked us to look after his pump whilst he went to answer the call of nature. He gave us no time to refuse and we stood there by the chugging machine desperately hoping it would not explode before he returned.

We returned to the station many times for refills. For the rest of that week we were sent to what is now the West Norwich Hospital to get some rest before returning to duty. On one of our returns to the station we learned that one of our officers, Sam Bussey, was missing. He had gone to release some horses on Oak Street, but a direct bomb on the area meant that he was never seen again. We also learned of a direct hit on an air raid shelter in Chapelfield Gardens. There was no hope of rescuing anyone and I believe that the human remains are still there.

When I returned to duty at Hethersett I requested to be transferred to the driving staff, which was granted. I took a road test with the Transport Officer and passed. The test at that time consisted of changing a wheel in a given amount of time and immobilising a car so that any invading Germans could not use it. This meant removing the rotor arm, and proved to be useful information later in life.

In 1944 two American planes had crashed at Henham near Southwold, and I was detailed to take the Deputy Fire Force Commander to the site. I had no idea how to get there and it was useless to stop and ask anyone because everyone had been instructed never to give information to anyone who might be a spy. With my poor sense of direction we lost our way, but this turned out to be a fortunate thing. Getting close to the scene of the disaster we heard a large explosion. On arrival we discovered that the bombs in the aircraft had exploded, killing everyone in the area 鈥� Civil Defence workers, police and fire service personnel. When we arrived we were the only living people in the area for several minutes. I parked the car under a tree and looking up saw a leg dangling above us. I was promptly sick. No was could I accompany my passenger through the mass of body parts. 鈥淩emember there鈥檚 a war on鈥� my officer barked at me 鈥渁nd don鈥檛 think you can call in sick tomorrow or there鈥檒l be a charge鈥�. There was no counselling for stress in those days! There is a memorial to those who died at Henham, but luckily my name is not on it.

On another occasion I had to drive an officer to King鈥檚 Lynn. I had no idea how to get there and there were no sign posts during the war. After driving for about an hour I saw barrage balloons ahead and said that I thought we were approaching our destination. Then the road started to look strangely familiar and to my horror we had made a complete tour to arrive back in Norwich. Fortunately my officer saw the funny side of it. We rolled back the mileage tape and set off again agreeing not to tell anyone of the mistake. We had to account for every drop of petrol in those days, always being reminded that seamen had risked their lives to bring it to us.

I drove many miles after that, having to visit the various Eastern Fire Division HQs 鈥� Cambridge, Bury St Edmunds and Ipswich. I would often have to take an officer to a meeting at one of these places and during his time there, I was free to wander around and get to know the place. At times I had to drive lorries loaded with equipment to various places and would often give lifts to hitch-hiking service personnel. Sometimes I took the family dog, Judy with me.

The raids on Norwich were known as the Baedeker Raids after the German Baedeker Guide Books which listed England鈥檚 historic cities. Hitler believed, so we were told, that destroying cities of great historical interest, a category into which Norwich came, would undermine British morale.

When the Americans arrived in Norfolk our lives took an interesting change. Firewomen at Hethersett received many invitations to dances at American bases such as Snettisham, where we tasted Coca-Cola for the first time and sampled exotic food never available in food-rationed Britain. Inevitably we all had American boyfriends who would come to Norwich and take us dancing at either the 鈥楽ampson and Hercules鈥� or 鈥楾he Lido鈥�. We learned to Jitterbug and smoke American cigarettes, and their families back in America sent much welcome food parcels to our families. Norwich seemed to be full of American servicemen in those days. Many of them sat with their backs to the wall on Castle Meadow, dispensing candies to children. At some American dances, one of their large huts would be put at our disposal for the night with white-helmeted American police service personnel on duty at the door to ensure that we came to no harm.

Betty and I always went together to the American parties. Talking about it to young people today we both find that they don鈥檛 believe that our friendships never went beyond kissing and cuddling. Certainly sex was never practiced and we were very na茂ve in those days. When we first went to dances we went in our Fire Service uniforms and we kidded the guys that 鈥淣FS鈥� stood for 鈥淣ational Flying School鈥� and that we flew British planes between the bases. 鈥淕ee, you English girls are wonderful鈥� they would say, until they learned the truth which we felt bound to confess.

On June 5th 1944 my mother had organised a party for my 21st birthday, using tins of fruit, cakes and cookies sent from the family of one of my American boyfriends. I was therefore less than pleased when we were called back on duty in the middle of the party, with no reason given. We were sent to stay in a large house on Ipswich Road and all my excuses for not going were ignored. The next day we learned of the Normandy Landings, a date fixed in my mind forever, although I cannot think what contribution we made being stuck in a house on Ipswich Road. Nor did I think it a valid reason for destroying my party!

Towards the end of the war I switched jobs and went to Hertfordshire to drive for the Land Army. This entailed picking up land girls from their various hostels and transporting them to their farms. They were transported in large ancient lorries which were not at all comfortable. Yet Prisoners of War were transported to farms in luxury coaches! What strange people we British are! Most of the girls came from the North of England and had very strong dialects. I couldn鈥檛 understand a word they said. I continued in this job until the end of the war.

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