大象传媒

I was born in London during August 1936, my brother in March 1940.

I had just had my 3rd Birthday, when the war started, so I don't remember the early months, but in September 1941 I started school in the local village. By then my Mother, Brother, and I were living with my Grandparents because my father had been "called up" for service into the army and was a long way from home.
We missed him very much, but we were happy living with my Grandparents, an Aunt, and a friend of my Aunt's. So there were 7 of us living in a small 3 bedroomed house, with an outside toilet, (very scary when dark) and no bathroom.
We had a tin bath kept in the outside toilet, which was brought indoors and filled with hot water, boiled in the copper that usually washed our clothes. We took turns to have a bath (using the same water for everyone) and then of course, the bath had to be emptied which took ages.

Our road had a public shelter, when the air raid warning sounded, that the enemy was approaching we could leave our homes and go to the shelter to protect us from falling bricks etc. if a bomb landed in the streets near us. It smelt very musty and damp inside and everybody longed to go home and be comfortable, especially if it happened during the night.
We were very happy to hear the all clear siren which meant the air raid was over, at least for the time being and considered safe to go outside.

At night we had blackout curtains fixed to the windows, to make sure there was no light escaping. There were no street lights and buses all had their windows darkened, but we were allowed small torches (that's if we could get the batteries) we shone them down onto the pavements to help us walk safely, but usually people stayed indoors at night, especially the children.

We had to carry our gas masks everywhere, and practice regularly putting them on and off; they smelled rubbery and horrible. I hated it.

Soon after the war started, we were given ration books.
Every time our Mum went shopping she took these books for food and clothes; we were allowed only a small amount of butter, sugar, bacon, eggs etc. There were no supermarkets in those days, so we had to queue at the butchers for meat, the bakers for bread, greengrocers for vegetables and fruit (if you could get them), and grocers for tea, coffee, butter, ham, bacon, eggs etc.
My Granddad dug up some of his flowerbeds and grew vegetables for us, so we had plenty to eat; we were never really hungry, but we couldn't find sweets or bananas, they came from abroad and the boats couldn't get through.

We didn't have television, or videos and only a radio to listen to which was powered by an accumulator (the equivalent of today's batteries), This was a glass jar with two plates and filled with acid, which had to be taken to the shop to be charged, quite frequently if you used your radio for a long time.
We didn't have many toys or presents for Birthdays or Christmas; most fathers were away fighting and our Mums had very little money to spare, but we did have fun just the same, our Christmas times were wonderful with all the relations playing all sorts of games.

The teachers at school looked after us very well: when there was an air raid during school time, they took us all to the shelter in the playground: we tried to do our lessons, but found it hard. We could hear the bombs falling around us. On one occasion a bomb fell close by, killing people we knew and damaged many houses; it made us very, very sad.

At school every year around May 1st, we celebrated May Day with a May Queen and her attendants; it was a lovely time.
We were allowed to go home at lunchtime and got dressed up in our prettiest frocks and wore flowers in our hair.
We danced around the May Pole that was in the playground, always hoping there wouldn't be an air raid (I think we were fairly lucky).
Usually the weather was fine at that time of year.

When it was lunchtime at school, we had to go across to the Church Hall for our dinner.
They were OK, except rice pudding day.
It was so thick my spoon would stand up in it and the dinner ladies made sure we ate it.
YUK!!! I hated it, and still do.

On July 5th 1944, we were all at school having lessons, when the air raid warning sounded. All the staff and children went to the shelter, we tried to work, but the planes sounded very noisy overhead. Suddenly all noise stopped, we waited until there was an enormous crash, the ground shook, we all rolled around on the floor very scared, but we were alive.
When the all-clear siren sounded, we were able to leave the shelter, but as we looked towards the park, we could see some of a huge bomb that had landed in the park.
Luckily nobody was killed, but 5 people were seriously injured, 20 slightly hurt, and many damaged houses.
To this day you can still see the ridge of earth where the bomb fell, every time I go past there I can still remember that bomb.

There is a strange story about that bomb.
One week before it fell, a fair had been in the park, but the Fortune Teller had told them to pack up and leave, because something awful was going to happen, and sure enough, after they had gone, one week later the bomb fell in exactly the same place that they had been.
A lucky escape, thanks to a Fortune Teller.

Because all the windows had been broken at the school that day, the Headmistress, told our Mum to take us home and not come back until September, we had two months holiday that year - HURRAH!

The war finally ended in May 1945, we all had a wonderful time at the street parties: big tables were put up in the roads, all the children sat down to eat sandwiches, jellies, and cakes.
How the Mums and everybody managed to get us all the food I'll never know, but it was wonderful.

We were still rationed for food until the 1950s, but life was better, and my Father, returned home to us safely.

Although the war has been over for 60 years, and now 2005,1 shall never forget it, and hope it never happens again.
It was nearly 6 years of my life, a lot happened during those 6 years, some of it very sad.

I have enjoyed writing and recording my story, so that all future generations may have some idea of what a war was all about.
It is History now but should not be forgotten - ever.

Goodbye.

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