大象传媒

I was seven years old when war was declared and living in Stoke-on-Trent. I still remember that Sunday morning very clearly. We had a Pye wireless which had a nasty habit of cutting out and the technical solution was to hit it hard with ones hand. Our neighbours, a Mr and Mrs Cooper, aware of this wayward wireless, asked if we would like to join them to listen to the important broadcast we had been told to expect by Mr Chamberlain. My father was out at work so Mother and myself went next door to await the event.
We sat listening to the rather faltering voice of Neville Chamberlain telling us he had not received any assurances from Herr Hitler and as a consequence this country was at war with Germany. The room fell very quiet until I remember someone simply saying "Oh my God".
Although it had been rumoured and expected for some time, it was frightening to hear the formal announcement.
As September went by I think 'shambles' would be a reasonable description of events. No one had any idea what to expect. It was assumed we were going to be bombed into oblivion and a lot of time was spent covering all windows in the house with sticky brown paper in the hope this would prevent broken glass flying everywhere if there was an explosion. Cars were fitted with masks over the headlights to reduce the chance of the light being seen from the air at night. These masks reduced visibility to a point where drivers could see very little, so in an attempt to make vehicles more visible to each other, all wings and front and rear bumpers had to be painted white.
Even push bikes could not have a lamp with a chrome reflector, some clever type had decided they would be seen easier from the air! To my great annoyance, my reflector was removed by Dad and painted white. (When the war finished one of the first things I did was to take my reflector to a local factory that did chrome plating and got it re-chromed. A new lamp would probably have been cheaper but I had my reflector back and all shining).
All houses had air raid shelters delivered with assembly instructions. The idea was to dig a hole in the garden for the shelter to be buried as deep as possible. Work on ours commenced one Saturday morning with father and a few of his friends armed with picks, shovels and quantities of Blue Bass ale, getting off to a fine start until they dug straight through the main sewage pipe!
To the great delight of us kids, they decided to close schools for a while, being worried that a bomb could hit a school building full of children. Parents were approached to see if lessons could be held in private houses with a teacher attending for a few hours to teach about a dozen children. This caused great excitement, with the boys or girls living at a used house, feeling very important!
During these school-less days a couple of friends and myself went down to the local park to kick a ball around. We suddenly heard a noise which sounded just like American cop cars chasing robbers - the sort of thing we often saw at the cinema. We thought it was great that our police now has this system instead of bells. Shortly afterwards three mothers descended upon us and we were in all sorts of trouble not realising the cop car sound was in fact the first air raid siren! We were bundled home and into the air raid shelter but it turned out to be a false alarm.
My father was in a reserved occupation and so to 'do his bit' he joined the A.F.S. (Auxiliary Fire Service). He was on duty a lot of nights and Dolly Heath, a cousin of my mother, thought it would be a good idea for mother and I to spend the night with them. Their house had the added advantage of a deep cellar and was only about a mile away from our house. We settled in on the first night and very soon the sirens sounded. Dolly's husband Stan was in the street with the Air Raid Wardens when a low flying aircraft came over. It had the characteristic drone of a German bomber and as it flew over, Stan and Co. heard the rattle of the mechanism as it released a bomb. The bomb landed three streets away and demolished a row of houses causing some nasty casualties. Needless to say, we didn't bother to stay with Dolly and Stan again!
Coventry began to be bombed heavily and there were times we could see the glow in the sky in the distance. My father and crew were called out one night to take a fire engine to Coventry to give some assistance. They raced off full of enthusiasm but on the outskirts of Coventry they drove straight into a bomb crater - those damned headlight masks!
My mother's sister Clara, lived in Leicester and mother and I would visit her from time to time for a break. We travelled by train from Stoke to Leicester and would change at Derby. I was always fascinated approaching Derby for the whole area seemed to be covered with barrage balloons.
We gradually settled to the pattern of war. It was austere and drab with everything on ration. Sweets and chocolate hardly any and what does a banana look like?
My mother worked miracles with food. She would often get a rabbit and do wonderful dishes with it. Despite all the shortages and problems I don't ever remember being hungry - what fantastic people our parents were!

'This story was submitted to the People's War site by Sara-Jane Higginbottom of Leicester CSV Action Desk on behalf of Terry Chadwick and has been added to the site with his permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.'

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