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I was just 14 years old when the second World War commenced in September 1939. As my father was already in the Merchant Navy and my only Sibling was still at school studying for the then ‘School Certificate’ and had to be evacuated with her school, it was decided that rather than be evacuated, I should stay at home with mother. It was then encumbant upon we to find a job; even though I had no qualifications and, due to the war, no prospect of further education, I duly found myself a job which was so easy to do at that time.
As a junior I was remunerated with 15 shillings weekly, that would be in decimal currency 75 pence; no Social Security then, one either worked or starved.
I changed my jobs at approximately six monthly intervals each time slightly increasing my income and vastly gaining experience. At this time I found life very fulfilling, Youth Clubs, Girls Training Coups, Dances, Voluntary work at the local maternity unit and, of course, ‘boy friends’. Then, the German Bombers arrived.
As I was living in Wallasey but working in Liverpool there were many nights when, after finishing work, I found myself marooned in Air Raid Shelters, arriving home cold, hungry and lonely at almost dawn. We all turned up for work again a few hours later. Not infrequently, when the river had been ‘mined’, we, boat users had to trudge to the nearest train station to join the huge queues, often we had the same performance going home in the evening and this was how I experienced probably the most traumatic moments of my life; this was the civilian war.
Travelling on the underground from Liverpool to New Brighton after finishing work at 6 pm on a Saturday in December, 1941, the train stopped somewhere between Grove Road and New Brighton stations, the lights went out and the Guard announced that an Air Raid was in progress and the passengers could either stay on the train or get out and walk to one of the stations, we were told which was the Live Line to avoid.
Being then just over 15 years old and alone, I was petrified, but worse was to come. A colleague from my work place, a middle aged gentleman, known a ‘Sir’, had apparently been looking out for me; he found me and helped me off the train, the Air Raid was at full force when an aeroplane dived down over the railway and completely panic stricken we lay face down on the track, but the plane passed over…
We reached the station safely and ran the distance to the then Tower Building for shelter. We knocked on several houses without success. At 7.30 the next morning, going for a bus home, the houses at which we had knocked the night before were just a heap of burning rubble.

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