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Lilly has asked that her family name and other names in her story be changed to protect the individuals mentioned therein. The original typescript of Lilly’s story has been deposited in Shropshire Archives. For the rest of Lilly’s family’s stories see: A3695682 and A3695718

In Part 1: Leaving Austria for London (A3694980), Lilly described how she, her mother and husband escaped from Austria. Following the outbreak of war, Lilly’s husband, John, was interned on the Isle of Man, and forced to leave Lilly and her mother in London just as the Blitz began. Lilly takes up the story again:

Leaving London for Wales

I was relatively young and careless but my poor mother, who had already had enough misfortune in her life, was reduced to a nervous wreck and so we decided to follow the Hungarians who had already evacuated to a place called Rhydycroesau in Wales. We arrived from London by train and bus with just a few of our belongings (the rest was left in London with our landlady and we never saw it again).

It was a foggy November night and when we got to the farm — in the middle of nowhere — we were greeted by the farmer’s wife. When asked for the toilet we were led by the light of her lantern up a stony path to a ‘convenience’ without a door but two seats. We were given a small bedroom and a room with a grate which heated water on one side and an oven on the other side. The water came out the colour of weak coffee (probably rust). I was hoping to earn some money by helping on the farm, but there was no question in it.

The farmer only had a horse, a few chickens and a cow which I never saw, probably in a field. Their methods of farming were archaic. The horse was kept in the open during that very severe winter. When one of the chickens was sick the farmer killed it by throwing stones at it. There was no electric light, we had oil lamps, but the farmer sat every evening with a candle in one hand reading the paper, making us wonder having escaped the bombs if we shall end up being burned to death.

Eventually a couple we knew in London joined us and we had the second ‘spare room’. As I could not find any work I spent my time sawing wood with Mr Hirsch to feed our grate. For the first and last time in my live we lived on Social Security which allowed us £1 each weekly. As our rent was 10 shillings it did not leave much for food.

A maid once again

So once again I tried my hand at domestic work. I found a job in nearby Oswestry with a lady who accommodated Army personnel. I was given a room upstairs without any heat and on a corner of the house which was very cold. Again I had to do my fair share of scrubbing floors and my hands were very sore, there was only cold water and I remember going to bed with almost more clothes on than I wore in daytime.

While I was in Oswestry my mother remained a few miles away in Rhydycroesau. The winter of 1942 was particularly severe and on my afternoon off I put my (former) skiing boots on and trudged in deep snow up the hill to see mother. The snow was so deep we had to dig ourselves out from the house.

An eventful birthday party!

I lasted only one month and subsequently landed in Shrewsbury where a family looked for a cook and parlour maid. It was heaven to be back in civilisation, being able to have a bath etc. Our employers had their aged parents (evacuees from Portsmouth) staying with them and their own daughter had her 6th birthday a week after we moved in. Mother and I were so happy to be in a proper kitchen again and being used to an economical life we managed to produce a real good spread of biscuits and sandwiches for the little girl’s birthday party — managed on wartime rations.

Mother was asked to select some fare to take up to grandfather’s room with a pot of tea. She put up a generous assortment for grandfather to enjoy. Little did we know that he had a heart condition and also was getting rather senile. He ate the whole lot and the next thing we knew he had collapsed with a heart attack. It created quite a disturbance whilst downstairs the children’s party was still going on. Fortunately Grandpa survived and suffered no after effects, but there was quite a lot of cleaning up to do.

The Shrewsbury International Club

The first few weeks in Shrewsbury were probably one of the loneliest times in my life. I did not know anyone and on my free afternoon I wandered aimlessly around the town whishing someone would even give me a smile. But people in this part of the world didn’t make friends easily. Eventually we found out through the police that there was an international club in existence and we joined. We made many friends among people in similar situations as ourselves. Some also were in domestic employment but a number worked for a firm of corsetieres.

The owners of the firm, Corset Silhouette, were German refugees who set up a factory in Shrewsbury starting in a church hall and employing these people as machinists etc. For quite some time their storeroom was a few hundred yards away from the factory and the garments were transported in a pram pushed by one of the men. They also provided accommodation for their employees in a house at the centre of the town. Incidentally eventually Corset Silhouette developed into a big concern and had a large factory in town as well as exporting all over Europe and America until probably in the 1960s, after the owners died, the firm was taken over and finally closed down.

The International Club was very lively. There was lots of entertainment often provided by some of the talented members, as well as talks on topics by the experts. We made contact with the Rotarians and other organisations and exchanged social events. When life settled down more after the war a lot of the members dispersed, but we maintained contact with a few for quite a long time. Especially for my mother who did not speak much English — the club provided a lot of recreation.

Life as an Alien: once more reunited with my husband

One of the restrictions imposed on foreigners was possession of bicycles. Also I wanted to visit John on the Isle of Man, which involved first getting permission, then reporting at the Police Station on departure, reporting again on arrival at the Isle of Man. I saw John for about an hour, then reporting departure in the Isle of Man returning by boat and train and reporting arrival in Shrewsbury again at the Police Station.

After 15 months John was released and came to Shrewsbury. He arrived on a Thursday afternoon (half-day closing) came out of the station and the town was quite dead. John always enjoyed city life and thought he could only last a week in such a quiet place. As it happened he stayed on until he died.

Again the search for jobs. He started off by doing nightshift at the Shrewsbury Chronicle, went on to work at the Hartley Electrics, then Wetcowood, a timber firm, and Shropshire Draining Board until his dream came true and he landed a job on British Rail. He had been a railway fan all his life and there he found his vocation. He started his career in Shrewsbury in 1951 being in various places in the Western Region right down to Plymouth, but finishing and retiring from his post in the Permanent Way Engineering section in Liverpool in 1975.

A family home at last

John could stay with me for a short time at our workplace in Shrewsbury, but again we wanted to be independent and we found rented accommodation. Our flat was the front of a former Public House and consisted of 2 rooms and the former men’s convenience which was partitioned into a very small kitchen and lavatory. A board hooked into the lavatory door served as a kitchen table. There was no bathroom included but we could share the landlord’s bathroom once a week!

I started an office job at the War Agricultural Office which was responsible for issuing coupons to farmers for their animal feeding stuff in accordance with their yield. By that time we were also permitted to possess bicycles so life began to look up. We were also a few years older and thought we could try for a family.

Our son was born in 1943 and he was the first baby arriving in our small circle of refugees, quite a focal point. With my mother’s help we managed to cope in our cramped condition but of course improvement had to be sought. One of our friends emigrated to America and the house she was renting became free. We were able to take over at an affordable rent and also retained her lodgers. The landlord died two years after we moved in and we could purchase the house as sitting tenants. We had to make many improvements but it became a real family home.

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