大象传媒

At the tender age of 2 years, 3 months old, one is very frightened to suddenly see your parents dissolve into floods of tears. When I too cried with them, my father bent and picked me up making funny faces to help me laugh. Yet even at this young age I knew that so sad deep voice on the wireless had announced England was at War and from then on as the years progressed, war to me was grown ups it seemed forever crying or shocked. How helpless I felt being so tiny that manys鈥� a hand I slipped mine into to bring comfort.

Suddenly there were no bananas for me on the weekly shopping trip up and down Peascod Street in Windsor and ration books were announced in the news to become reality soon after. Stood at shop counters thinking how long it now took to get served with all those fiddly coupons to cut out. Wedding cakes were no longer big fruitcakes but a cardboard sham with a little cake inside that it took months to scrimp on the ingredients to make.

Loved 鈥渢he digging for victory鈥� bit as our small muddy garden became very busy with lots of vegetables and a little fruit all growing away nicely. On the other side of the garden the chickens arrived, to which I was soon introduced to! Told them all my secrets and they clucked away so intelligently I just knew my inner most thoughts were safe. Confided things like Auntie Jean up the road came in sobbing her heart out when she got one of the dreaded telegrams simply saying 鈥渕issing, believed killed鈥� though there were times later on when these kin were just missing! Not many sad to say.

It was a gloomy time for me as this war thing took over my grown up play mates who seemed all at once so down as they talked of so many missing, so many saved, so many lost! We knew so many of those reported missing that the news became quite personal when these numbers were given out and I dared not hardly breathe when the news on the big accumalated wireless. There were many attempts at humour on the wireless that did raise a laugh especially if the jokes were aimed at Hitler! I hated this man who had changed my lovely childhood from jolly to melancholy.

One evening my father lifted me up to look at the far distant red sky as he told me this was London burning. Another evening he showed me a German Bomber plane going down in flames over Windsor Great Park! At both these sightings my father told me to always remember what the Germans had done to our beautiful country.

How many and varied were the vegetable pies my mother produced in the dimly lit basement kitchen and how she conjured up meal after meal with so little to buy was a wonder to witness. We loved rabbit pie and the few times we had meat with a joint lasting well into Wednesday from Sunday. On the hob was a huge saucepan into which went all the scraps like bacon rinds etc and this was boiled up every day to produce delicious soup for Saturday supper.

Our breakfasts were wonderful ranging from Kedgeree to plain boiled eggs, in fact thanks to our feathered friends we had an endless supply of eggs. As I grew older, mother handed me a little wicker basket and she asked me to collect the newly laid delights from out of the nest box. Throughout the summer months, this was my job before I went to school.

School was interrupted with these funny wobbly Mickey Mouse gas masks that teacher explained at great length to us. The listening all about them was the easy bit but when we had to put them on many hit the floor. We hated the rubbery smell and the suffocating feeling they gave us. Though in time we got somewhat used to having to wear them in a box over our shoulders it was always hateful having to daily put them on! We saw workmen building a huge hill on part of our playground and soon we were taken into the Shelter where we sat on long wooden forms and sang nursery rhymes. Then teacher lit the lamps and shut the big window at the far end as you went into the shelter which presented us children with a quite dreary place to be in. So teacher got us to sing some more and then our daily gas masks fitting began and I with a few others threw the awful things on the floor!

By this time I had a little sister and one holiday from school we went up to the ARP field for us all to practise putting on the dreaded masks. Mother just a few weeks from having given birth had to pump up the cover over my baby sister and see to reluctant little me. Mother fainted and she and my sister were rushed home whilst I was surrounded by strangers which made me panic into a huge screaming fit.

Then that same evening the tannoy went down the street asking all those folk that were at work that day to put on their gas masks and come out. Of course we had to shut all the doors and windows for real tear gas was used this time. My dear father rushed out leaving the front door ajar in his haste so this little miss followed outside. For three days I could not stop the tears flowing and was quite ill.

Yet one thing was very good about this War and this was the camaraderie of people who rushed to comfort, help or whatever was needed by their fellow humans. They swapped sugar for clothing coupons with us and brought in vegetable peelings for the chickens. Every chicken except my favourite Betty, was destined for the Christmas dinners around the neighbourhood.

What a beehive all year round was the festive season with dolls lovingly made from old black stockings and wooden toys wonderfully produced too. Had a great small sweet shop that my father made and also a fabulous wooden hobbyhorse that I loved to ride around on. Things like nuts, apples and painting books appeared as if by magic in our stockings that we pinned up on Christmas Eve with a little glass of sherry and a mince pie for Santa. How regal was our Christmas chicken dinner with all the embellishments mother could muster that went down a real treat.

Our parties were very rare so when we all celebrated VE day we all ate so much we were sick and then we went out for more too. Were put to bed about 9 pm and then we got dressed and crept out to watch the grown ups getting very silly on beer and sherry. Suddenly all the sadness went that day with the reunions that took place soon after, but never did it seem that same secure world I knew at 3 years and 3 months.

Even much sadder today is that wars are still perpetrated despite all that folk learned in World War Two!

It seems only God himself will bring us all true peace.

Written by Julia Lloyd
10th November 2003

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