大象传媒

This story was added to the 大象传媒 People's War website on by Helen Jubb, Radio Leeds on behalf of the contributor with her permission.

I was born in Billingham-on-Tees in 1936 and when war broke out I was aged three. My first memory of wartime was when my father dug up our small back garden, in order to install an Anderson shelter. This was a shelter made of corrugated iron, half buried in the soil and covered with grass to hide it from the bombers. There were bunk beds on each side and the family had to take shelter when the air raid siren sounded. My sisters, Auriol and Sylvia and I sometimes played 鈥渉ouses鈥� in it during the day.

Billingham was a target for because of the presence of the vast I.C.I (Imperial Chemical Industries) where my father worked as a fitter, and later, as a draughtsman. I have a vivid memory of my second encounter with the enemy, when I was 4. We were all in the air-raid shelter, half asleep, when a bomber went overhead and dropped a bomb. I don鈥檛 remember being frightened and we all stayed inside until the ALL CLEAR sounded. As I was the youngest child, my mother helped me up the steps into the garden and I wailed with fright because I was walking on glass. All our rear windows had been blown out!

Next day was very exciting, as we and most of Billingham went down to see where the damage had been done. We went to Billingham Beck and found that the casualty was 鈥淭he Old Mill鈥�- which fortunately was unoccupied. It was a field away from our house. The mill was gone and there was a deep crater in the ground. The local lads were enjoying themselves hugely, sliding down the slopes. I watched half in fear that there might be a bit of a bomb left in the crater!

At five years old I went to school. In those days there was no concept of 鈥渟tranger danger鈥濃�nce my mother has shown me the way, I walked to and from school with my five-year-old friend Mary. One day we came home to find that all the ornamental railings on our front walls had been sawn off and taken away to armament factories. You can still see, on many old garden walls today, where the railings used to be.

I remember the blackout. Everyone had black curtains at the windows and the Air Raid Wardens made sure that no glimmer of light showed from any window, as the bombers might see it. We soon got used to the blackout and, for years afterwards, we still went upstairs to bed without putting the light on.

The skies were occupied by barrage balloons, to ward off aeroplanes. To me they looked like floating elephants. One Sunday we came out of church and saw a barrage balloon on fire in the sky.

In the 1920鈥檚 my father had been a merchant seaman but, when the WW2 started, he joined the Royal Navy in 1939. He was injured early in the war and spent a lot of time in hospital, in Portsmouth. Portsmouth Hospital was bombed and my father was buried in the rubble. They dug him out but he was told is leg would 鈥渨ither.鈥� It didn鈥檛, but he suffered from sciatica and back pain all his life. He was sent to Sandon Hospital in Scotland, so Mum and the rest of us evacuated ourselves to a farm in Pooley Bridge, in the Lake District, so that Mum and Auriol could go and visit Dad more easily. At the weekend I was looked after by Mr and Mrs Marks, the farmer and his wife. My father was now not fit for the Navy and, with great regret, he had to leave. He loved the Navy and has fond memories of all his travels.

When I was six, we all moved from Billingham to Prudhoe-on-Tyne, where my father worked in an ICI plant there. I think we moved because of the danger in Billingham. We had an enormous allotment in which my father grew vegetables and flowers. Most people had a garden or allotment, and they would often exchange their produce with neighbours.

In various locations e.g. the doctor鈥檚 waiting room, there were posters on the wall, to help the war effort: 鈥淲alls have ears!鈥� 鈥淒ig for Victory鈥�, 鈥淵our country needs YOU!鈥� One poster in particular fascinated me. It showed a jolly, smiling donkey and the message, 鈥淯se Shanks鈥� Pony鈥�-meaning use your legs to walk and save petrol. I thought the donkey would be fun to ride, so I turned to Mum and said, 鈥淐an we go on Shank鈥檚 Pony?鈥� Everyone laughed.

When I was nine we returned to Billingham. My parents had sold their house and now had to find another. They rented a four-bed roomed house at the very gates of ICI but they did not like it and bought a better house in Billingham with an acre of garden.

Food was in very short supply. When we 鈥渨ent to the pictures,鈥� i.e. the cinema, I used to drool every time Tarzan鈥檚 chimpanzee, called Cheetah, peeled a banana. I never saw a banana till I was 12. I expected it to be luscious and juicy and was quite disappointed. There were no sweets in the shops. We could get small lollipops but otherwise we ate cough sweets (Nippets), liquorice, coltsfoots rock, cinnamon sticks and carlins.

In wartime there was advice for the Government on how to cook healthy meals. The woman who advised the nation was Marguerite Patten. My mother, like everyone else tried hard to make meals interesting. Food was rationed. We would take our ration books to the shops and the grocer would cut out the coupon. We were allowed 2oz. of butter per week. We had dried eggs, dried milk, 1 fresh egg a week if you were lucky. Our neighbour took his dog into the fields behind the house and shot rabbits for dinner. In those days you had to skin your own rabbit and pluck your own chicken. I never liked rabbit! For pudding we often had bread and jam with custard. Our favourite treat was chocolate crispies made with cocoa, cornflakes and dried milk. The vegetables from the garden gave us a healthy diet.

Finally the war ended. There were back-street parties all over the country. Parents brought out their dinner tables, which stretched down the whole street and loaded them up with good things to eat. All the children were dressed up for the party. I wore a nurse鈥檚 uniform. My younger sister was the Queen of Hearts, with hearts all over her pink dress and a tray of tarts. My elder sister wore a beautiful Japanese kimono, which my father had brought from abroad for my mother. We all went out onto the main street and marched up and down the streets singing songs.

In wartime England there was a great feeling of fellowship. We were not afraid but we were very anxious about the soldiers in our families. We were all in this together and we helped each other. We all knew the same songs, thanks to Vera Lynn: 鈥淲e鈥檒l meet again!鈥� 鈥淵ou are my sunshine!鈥� 鈥淢ares eat oats and does eat oats and little lambs eat ivy, a kid鈥檒l eat ivy too, wouldn鈥檛 you!鈥� 鈥淩oll out the barrel!鈥� 鈥淵es, we have no bananas, we have no bananas today!鈥� 鈥� and lots of rude songs about Hitler. We listened to the 鈥淔orces Favourites鈥� on the radio, when families chose their favourite songs for their soldier sons and even their favourite sounds from home. I remember one soldier who asked to hear his mother frying bacon in the pan.

In our house my mother sold cut flowers from the garden and windfalls from the apple trees. She fed her family of six and it was always done well. In those we had four meals a day- breakfast, 鈥渄inner鈥� (now called lunch), tea and supper. It was only when the war ended and I was older that I went abroad on a school exchange in Germany and another in France. When I told my mum that they only had breakfast, a light lunch and dinner as the main meal she was delighted. It was much easier for her a healthier for us. It was at that time that most of England changed its eating habits.

Although the war ended in 1945, food was still rationed for many years- till 1954, I think鈥�

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