大象传媒

I was nine years old when war was declared. My Dad was a compositor on the Liverpool Daily Post so always had Saturday night off. We would have a "lie in" on Sunday morning so were having our boiled eggs when Chamberlain made his sombre announcement. My Mother burst into tears and went out into the kitchen to weep into the roller towel. She and Dad has been teenagers in the First World War and had some idea of the consequences. I was not sure what to expect.

We had to stick brown paper strips on all the windows and sew dark blankets to the back of curtains to blackout the windows when we had the lights on. There was no school for a few days until lessons could be arranged in various houses. Mine was chosen so twice a week for a half a day local friends from my class gathered around our dining room table. Two of them lived in houses that backed onto ours so they climbed over the fence! Eventually brick shelters were built in the schoolyard and we were more or less back to normal. If you were still on the street when the siren sounded you had to run home as quickly as you could. I remember one morning I had just reached the school gate when the siren sounded. I rushed back home. The "all clear" sounded as I reached our gate. I returned to school only to have the same thing happen again. After 3 attempts my Mum told me to give up and go back in the afternoon.

Friends lived near one of our large hospitals so their road had had concrete blocks erected at each end before war had actually been declared. Just after the start of hostilities they were coming to tea one Saturday. As soon as they arrived they asked if tea was ready as there was to be a mock battle in their road and they had to be home by 6:30 if they were to see it. We were invited to join them for the spectacle. We sat in the front bedroom with the sash windows open. There were troops, tanks, armoured cars and flour bags for ammunition. To the soldiers taking part it was a very serious exercise. To us it was a great deal of fun! On the way home on the bus the sirens sounded. The driver took us to the nearest shelter. The conductor stayed with us while the driver drove off to hide the bus. It was some time before we continued our journey. It was thought a German reconnaissance plane had been flying over.

Our side lawn was dug up to accommodate an Anderson shelter. The people next door shared it with us. The well filled up with water almost immediately so the workmen came to concrete all the inside. Dad made wooden frames with chicken wire stretched across to form bunks. Mum made flock mattresses to fit on top. Dad put a piece of metal on a frame to make a doorway. Butterfly catches held it in place. There was a paraffin lamp, blankets and pillows to make it as comfortable as we could. A "siren suit" (an all in one zipped garment) was purchased for me to wear. To amuse ourselves we had cards and board games. Mum and I used up odd bits of wool to crochet blankets to go over our feet and legs for extra warmth. During a lull in the raid either my Mum or our neighbour would nip into the kitchen to fetch tea and biscuits or scones to keep us going. One night, after the "all clear," our neighbour was opening the shelter door when there was a loud explosion. Sometimes stray damaged planes would drop their bombs indiscriminately to lighten the load. He put the door back up again quickly. There were several more loud bangs. Then we heard my Dad's voice asking why were still in the shelter when the raid had been over for quite some time. We explained about the bangs only to be told there had been a thunderstorm!

We were allowed to keep hens so they occupied the other side of the garden. They helped as a food supply and for bartering!

One of the lads next door came home on leave to be married. Family and friends contributed items for the wedding cake and supplied clothing coupons for the bride's outfit. The "do" was to be held next door. All the young ones were brought in for me to "mind" while the festivities continued. One or other of the mums kept popping into make sure we were all right. No one heard the sirens go. I was struggling to get the little ones dressed to go down to the shelter when a bomb exploded and alerted the merrymakers. Several mums were soon on the scene to assist.

Whenever Dad had a night off he would go on warden duty with his helmet, gasmask and whistle. One night a land mine was dropped under the railway bridge at Broadway. There was this massive draught of air sped along Strawberry Road and Parthenon Drive smashing all the shop windows at the junction of Walton Hall Avenue and Stopgate Lane. Fortunately, all the wardens had taken cover in the entries between the houses or there would have been casualties.

German aircraft came around early in the evening to drop incendiaries in the area and to light it up for the more serious bombing raids to follow. Often my Dad had to cycle between them on this way to work. There was an R.O.F. factory in Stopgate Lane and one night firebombs were dropped all around this. Everyone was certain the ammunition factory was to be the target that night. My Mum packed a bag with our personal papers and some clothes. If the siren went, we would get on a tram and go to my Nan's for safety. No raid happened.

Some nights we were up and down several times so in the end Dad put a mattress in the corner of the living room and Mum and I slept there. I can remember laying there listening to shells exploding and bullets going off when an ammunition train was hit. The brave driver had shunted it onto a siding. Nearby houses were evacuated and the problem was left to sort itself out.

As part of our war effort, we made different badges- little wooden dolls with a brass pin, painted cardboard discs and flowers from fuse wire and embroidery silks which we sold for various funds. Neighbours gave draw prizes- tickets at 6d each. Our next door neighbour had been gassed in WW1 and as part of his rehabilitation he had been taught to embroider. He produced a table cloth with the RAF insignia in one corner, a Spitfire opposite and the red, white and blue roundels in the remaining two corners. Tickets for that draw were 2s 6d! All proceeds went to the Spitfire fund.

During the war people were encouraged to take holidays at home. Parks ran talent competitions and concert parties. In Otterspool Park there were regular performances of plays. I remember seeing Richard III there. Laurence Payne was in the cast. As we waited for the 61 bus, a scouse wit spotted the actor making his way to his lodgings and called after him to get his hair cut, much to the delight of the queue! There were trips to many seaside resorts on cheap tickets. We liked going to Parkgate as at that time the tide came right into the sea wall.

In 1941 I was preparing for my 11+ examination. If there was a raid in the night we were allowed to go into school at 9:45 am. Then the May Blitz started. One evening my Mum was putting hot water bottles in the shelter and I had gone upstairs to draw the blinds. I opened the window to watch my Mum getting into the shelter and was thinking "Mind your back!" Evidently I had said it aloud for the next thing she was standing with her back to the house wall telling whoever was in the shelter to come out. I started to laugh but my Mum was not amused! We used to go straight into the shelter instead of going to bed. If there was a dog fight, the neighbour on the other side of our garden would give us a running commentary from their Anderson shelter doorway! My Dad's family lived in Tetlow Street and was bombed out when a land mine caused a direct hit on the public shelter at the top. Sadly, all the people in the shelter perished. Most were guests at a family wedding. The same night a bomb landed on Mill Road Hospital and the blast blew my Nan's windows out. So we had four extra adults living with us plus some of their furniture! At one stage there were two pianos in our parlour! all the stuff had been brought on a horse drawn coal cart.

Queen Mary High School should have moved into new premises in 1939 but instead pupils were evacuated to Shrewsbury. The walls were unpainted and the playing fields were mounds of earth. Brick shelters were erected and scholars began to drift back. So by the time I had passed the scholarship everyone was back in the new building. Clothes cost coupons, so there was a great deal of "make do and mend." A friend's Mum turned my gymslip into a skirt and my Mum knitted a navy blue cardigan for her daughter. New gabardines were larger than required so we could grow into them. We had to go to Holly Lodge for games. Raids seemed to happen just as we sat down to lunch so we would take our plates out to the shelter. If the raid went on too long, the dining room staff would bring our pudding out to us there. Potatoes were planted between the entrance gates and the main building. Our Form Mistress was a personal friend of Vivienne Leigh and Laurence Olivier so kept us going with stories of their love life while we dug! Each class spent some time digging them up when the crop was ready. In the October break we used to go by coach to Rainford to help pick the potato crop. This was part of our war effort as manpower was depleted with farm workers being called up to fight. In the summer break we camped at Barrow Nook to pick peas- a backbreaking monotonous chore! But we were paid for our labour. Our History teacher ran a knitting group so Mum and I made socks, gloves, balaclavas, mitts, jumpers and scarves for the armed forces. Mum was asked to knit sea boot socks for the Navy. The wool was thick and still contained lanolin so was very coarse and hard to knit. She could only do a few rows at a time before her fingers began to ache so she fitted other knitting in between. We adopted a ship, writing letters and sending gifts such as board games, cards, jigsaws and knitted items.

Dad had been called up the August before I started at secondary school. Mum was called up to do part time work at Jacob's Biscuit Factory packing hard tack for the troops. By this time temporary repairs had been done at the family home so we were back to a small household. We had to give up our allotment, as the two of us could not manage on our own. We still had the hens and greenhouse though.

Our school had an arrangement with Dr. William's School in Dolgellau for our 1st years to go there for a week's holiday in the summer. It was our turn in 1942. It was lovely to get away from the fear of raids and enjoy the air. Sunday afternoon we went down to the river to sit. We took our knitting with us hidden under our blazers as we were in Wales and in those days it was not the done thing to knit on the Sabbath! Dr. Wallace, our Music teacher, organised a concert on the last night for the local residents who had looked after us during our stay.

Although my Uncle Sam was an able seaman, he was serving on a merchant vessel as a gunner. These ships were collecting food and armaments. Sometimes he went to Spain and would bring back oranges for us. This was a rare treat. We would have a third each to make them last longer! When I close my eyes, I can still see my distraught Nan standing at our front door, tears streaming down her face, clutching the telegram that said he was missing and presumed lost. That was in 1942. His name is on the memorial on the Ho at Plymouth.

A family friend from Kent was colour blind and so was not accepted into the armed forces. As he was a joiner he enlisted for the Merchant Navy. Usually his trips took him across the Atlantic. Mostly, his ship was docked in Liverpool so his wife, then later his baby daughter too, would come to stay with us so they could have some time together. During one of these spells, "Gone With The Wind" was on the Forum and he got tickets for us. It was the first time I had taken a snack and a flask of tea to a film show!

Mum and I were at the Pierhead one Saturday afternoon. There was a liner, albeit camouflaged in dull grey, out in the river opposite New Brighton. We knew Dad was due to go out to the front as he had been home on embarkation leave and Mum said wouldn't it be strange if he was on it! Some time later, we had a letter to say he was and that he was upset to be so near home but unable to see us! This trip took him to Italy.

Buses stopped running at 10:00 pm. I think it was December, 1944- a group of girls around 14-15 years old had been to tea to a friend in South Liverpool. As we lived in the north end, we needed to be out before the last bus. Although there were several clocks in the room, all told a different time, which resulted in our missing the last bus! We began to walk. As there were not so many home phones at that time we could not let families know of our predicament. Our first drop off was at the Old Swan. Her Dad got his bike out so he could escort us home and have transport back. We dropped each one off as she reached her address. One of the group lived opposite to me. Our mums were pacing up and down the road looking for us. At midnight, they were going to murder us. By one o'clock, they were only too glad to see us back safely. It was fortunate that there had not been a raid during that time. It was quite eerie with no traffic on the roads as we travelled.

As the war went on, many things were in short supply. A rumour would start that a shop was to have a delivery and, quickly, a queue would form. Sometimes it was true, but mostly it was a false alarm and time had been wasted. We kept our hens going on scraps from home, vegetable peelings; stale bread mixed with the meagre corn supply we were allowed. We had a cockerel so future chicks were assured! Mum would preserve the eggs in icing glass for when the hens went off laying. She bottled tomatoes, plums and black currants and dried apple rings for use in the winter months. Powdered egg was good for baking and omelettes but nothing like the real thing. At Christmas, one of the older fowl would be sacrificed for our dinner. Christmas puddings had grated carrot and potatoe in. Marzipan was made from ground apricot kernels. A great deal of ingenuity went into making meals as varied as possible on the meagre rations available.

All throught the day, the radio programmes were geared to keeping spirits up with lively music and variety shows. If John Snagg's voice was heard one guessed it was serious news. We had ITMA and Workers Playtime to cheer us up. We listened to Jean Metcalfe and Cliff Michelmore just in case there was a request from Dad. There were still trips to the cinema- usually the early showing to be home before the raids started.

After D-Day things quietened down as regards raids. Certain foods were still in short supply but we managed. We were in Castle Street outside the Town Hall on V.E.Day- relieved it was all over and hopeful that our loved ones would be home soon. It is difficult to describe the atmosphere and the mood of the crowds at that time.

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