大象传媒

My father, Charles Graham, lost his leg in the First World War at the age of 19, so he was never "called up" during the Second World War but did his duty as a Night Watchman in the evenings at the factories in the town. He worked for the British American Tobacco Company during the day. Because of his disability, Mum and Dad were allocated a Corporation house just after they were married in 1920, and 22 Clinton Place, West Derby, was where they brought up their nine children.

In 1939 when the war began, I was five and just starting at Roscoe, Ballantyne Road School, where I attended until the age of 15. This school was a good twenty minutes walk from our house and when the sirens sounded most of us were sent home. I remember feeling very afraid that the bombs would fall on me before I got home but luckily the bombs didn't seem to fall during the day. There were shelters in the school playground but they always seemed to be damp, dark and smelly and I was glad to be sent home.

A landmine fell on the school one night and for many months we had a couple of hours schooling in the front room of a house on Queens Drive. Quite a few houses were damaged or flattened near the school and a number of pupils injured who lived close by. Our local shops were also badly damaged.

My father and brothers dug a big hole in the back garden for our Anderson Shelter. It was fitted with six bunks and was quite cosy when we had the oil lamps lit and the paraffin heater on. We spent many hours down there and I grew up with a horror of daddy-longlegs and earwigs. Luckily, my love of books took away a lot of the boredom. The rest of the garden was used as a vegetable patch and I still remember the taste of my father's new potatoes, carrots, cabbage and tomatoes which he proudly brought to my mother.

Most of the long dark nights were spent helping mother to unravel old jumpers to be reknitted into clothing for us. My father was issued with stump stocks, which were made of very soft pure wool, and when a hole appeared, they were also carefully unpicked by my mother and knitted into socks and vests. We also cut into strips old dresses and coats,which were made into rugs.

We would spend hours with the lights out because of the blackout, looking out of the window listening to the noise of the guns and the bombs going off, praying that we would be kept safe. We could see flashes coming from the area of the River and the sky would light up. Then we could see the planes overhead and wonder whether they were ours. When the noise of the bombing got too bad Mother would put us under the table instead of taking us to the shelter in the garden, especially if Dad was on nightwatch duty and she was alone with us.

The most exciting events were when the "CARE" parcels arrived from America. Mother's family had emigrated to America in 1920 and her three sisters all contributed to send her these parcels. They were full of tinned food, chocolate and chewing gum as I remember, but they had always been opened and some of the contents taken. We also received parcels of clothing where the dresses had been worn once to give them a second-hand status. There was always such excitement when these parcels arrived and if any of the clothes didn't fit us, they were distributed to our neighbours.

My eldest sister Alice was 19 in 1939 and worked as a Secretary for Dunlop Rubber Company. Most of her friends were in the Army and Airforce but as she was working in a "protected" industry, she didn't have to join up, but still had to work as an Auxiliary Nurse in her spare time. I shared a bedroom with her and remember her crying when she lost two close friends in the Battle of Britain.

My brother Bob was a Marine Engineer and worked for Camelairds on the waterfront. Many a night he would come hom with his feet bleeding from the long hours he worked in the engine rooms of the damaged ships that came into port. Eventually, he joined the Merchant Navy and travelled the World.

Rationing was the norm to me but Mother did wonderful things with the rations we did have. The Government issued a special Cook Book which I inherited and Mother used to make the most wonderful cakes with Caster Oil. I just couldn't get used to fresh eggs when we could eventually buy them after the war, and craved for the dried eggs, which we had been issued with. We seemed to have a lot of stews, especially rabbit stew, and fish and really it was quite a balanced diet except for the lack of fruit.

The war did bring people together though and we had a family living with us for a while who had been bombed out. They went to live with relatives eventually. The street parties were great and everyone contributed to them and I especially remember the parties for V.E. day, V.J. day and the end of the war.

I was eleven when the war ended but it didn't bring the memories to an end. They will stay with me for the rest of my life.

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