大象传媒

My first memories of WW2 go back to 1943/44, when I would be approximately 4/5 years old.

My mother, older sister and myself lived in part of an old Georgian farmhouse, on the outskirks of Boston - (my father was in the army). As we lived quite near to the east coast, we were surrounded by a number of RAF airfields. From an early age, I can remember sitting on the old water pump at the bottom of the garden, on a summer evening, and watching formations of aircraft flying out towards the sea. When I asked my mother where they were going, I remember her distinct reply "They are going to bomb Hitler". At that age I obviously was not aware of the serious implications of her words and could not understand why she sounded so cross when she replied.

Another memory is when there was an air raid. As soon as the Siren sounded, we were literally 'dragged' from our lovely warm beds, and, as we did not have an air raid shelter, were taken to Mrs Pickering's house (next door) and were made to get under her great big, heavy farmhouse table, where we frequently went to sleep. When the 'all clear' was sounded we were then 'dragged' back to our own beds, which by this time were very cold, (or so it seemed).

My father occasionally came home on leave, but I could not remember him very well. At the end of his leave, my paternal grandfather always used to take him back to the railway station to see him off. I recall one time - it must have been in the summer time - because he had a cucumber sticking out of his rucksack - my aunt used to grow them and in those days, you only had them during the summer time.

Then there was the dried egg and corned beef and Heinz baked beans. To this day, I still like corned beef and baked beans. The kids of today certainly don't. As for the dried egg, it made gorgeous omelettes and scrambled eggs. As far as eggs were concerned, we were very privileged in that direction. My maternal grandfather kept chickens and whenever we went to visit we always came home with eggs. I am sure that this must have contravened a Ministry of Food ruling, because when Aunt Maude (grandfather's housekeeper!!)was wrapping them in newspaper, she used to say to us "you must not tell anyone that grandad gives you eggs, because he would be in trouble". That didn't worry me too much because I loved eggs - they don't taste the same today - I'm sure it was because I was eating and enjoying illicit contraband!

One day, and I cannot remember the circumstances surrounding the event, but my mother lent her bicycle to an young RAF Officer, because he had missed his transport back to base. He promised faithfully that he would return the said cycle, but we did not see it again. Mother was quite cross, but and old aunt gave her a new? one. It was an old 'sit up and beg' type, but it lasted for years. I never did know what happened to it. As for the young RAF officer, in later years I have often thought about it and wonder if he went off on a mission and never came back again - we shall never know.

At the end of the war, all of my friends' fathers very quickly came home, but mine did not. He stayed in the army. We saw very little of him and eventually he found himself another family - in Germany. I can remember my mother crying, and it was a long time before I knew why. As a child, I was not particularly bothered, it was when I grew older, and particularly on my Wedding Day, when my father was not there to give me away, that I really started to give deep thought to the situation and it made me very sad that I did not have the father/daughter relationship that my friends' have had with their fathers. I think that what I am trying to say, is that the end of the war wasn't like a fairytale, where fathers came home and everyone lived happily after For some, the ending was a very unhappy one.

At the present time I cannot think of any more to write, but no doubt things will come to mind at a later date. All I can say is that I hope what I have written will be read by the children of the present and future, and will enable them to understand a little of how we in the rural areas of England lead our lives during WW2.

漏 Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.