大象传媒

I remember the Jack Frost patterns on the bedroom window panes in the winter, going to bed by candlelight and frightened by the shadows made by the flickering flame. There were the blackout curtains, and the searchlights lighting up the sky over Corby. Each night we gathered in the light of the oil lamp round the range fire for the nine-o-clock news on the wireless. The accumulators for this had to be fetched from Mr Billesdon's shop in Uppingham. In Town Tonight and the roar of London traffic was heard on the Saturday night wireless.

We walked to Uppingham for provisions, and the Co-op man called for an order once a week. The butcher called on Saturdays to bring our rationed meat. Newspapers were delivered from Uppingham, and when the weekly payment was made at the shop library books could be rented at a small charge. Coal was also rationed, but we were lucky as use was made of old trees in our orchard. We grew all our own fruit and vegetables, and kept beehives, pigs and hens. Mother had a weekly baking day and potato was often added to the bread. She made jam, put eggs in isinglass and salted runner beans for later use, Kilner jars were used for bottling spare fruit. Rabbit was part of the diet as Father often went shooting. Breakfast was porridge, and toast was done with a long toasting fork in front of the range fire.

At the end of the harvest , when the huge threshing engines had gone, we went gleaning in the fields for additional food for the hens. Apples were stored. Mother made wine from elderflowers and other items. It was left to ferment in the copper. Bathtime was in the tin bath in the outhouse, surrounded by sacks of potatoes and other sundry items including the mangle. In winter the draught blew under the door. Water was fetched from the village pump using a wooden yoke so that two buckets were carried. Water for drinking was kept in a large pancheon in the pantry.

The butcher came to kill the pigs and the meat was put in the salting trough, and when eventually it was ready sides of bacon were hung in the kitchen. Meat from the pig, referred to as fry, was always donated to neighbours.

The local cinema was in Uppingham and I often went with Granny on a Saturday afternoon. On Sunday I always went to the village church, and one local family always came for the evening service in the pony and trap. As a child my clothes were made by the village dressmaker, with plenty of hem and width. Sheets were turned sides to middle, socks were darned, shoe heels were fitted with Blakey's segs to make them last longer.

Granny made iron holders which I sold in the village for Red Cross Funds. All our iron railings from the front of the house, including the gate, were removed for the war effort. Father cycled to work as no petrol was available to run my brother's motor cycle which was hidden in the shed. Mother polished my brother's RASC cap and badge which she kept on the shelf daily to bring him safely home. We could sit on the outside loo and count the heavy bombers back from their nightly raids over Germany into the American base at Spanhoe. They didn't all return.

The doctor visited if required, but the surgery was in Uppingham, and prescriptive medicines were left on the long table inside the door for collection. I always remember the bottles were all shapes, colour and sizes, and corked. The taste was not always pleasant.

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

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