大象传媒

This story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War website by Marie on behalf of Audrey and has been added to the site with his permission. Audrey fully understand the site鈥檚 terms and conditions.

David, my brother in the R.N.R. , was gunnery officer aboard his destroyer and actually shot down an enemy plane after one attack on a convoy. I can鈥檛 remember exactly when, but it must have been around 1943-1944. Anyway he was decorated at Buckingham Palace by King George VI. I am ashamed to say I have forgotten which honour he received! But later he had a 鈥渕ention in despatches鈥�. He came up to London, immaculate in his best uniform and met my mother who had come up from the farm in Essex to support him. He was dismayed to see that she was wearing the same navy-blue siren suit that she literally 鈥渓ived in鈥� and wore everyday down at the farm - the only difference was that she had changed out of her wellies into a smart pair of suede fur-lined boots she kept for best. But he was really embarrassed when he noticed that under her siren suit she was wearing pyjamas!! But then mother had had to get up early to milk the goats, take them out to pasture and tether them, feed the chickens and collect the eggs and all the usual farm house chores before walking about 3 miles to the train station in the freezing weather to catch the train to London.

They met outside the gates of Buckingham Palace - after the ceremony David went home with my mother. He was limping badly and had been wounded in the leg. He had invited a fellow officer to come home with him.

Mother was 5鈥�11鈥�, exceptionally tall for a woman. She gave us, her family, all her clothing coupons and bought her clothes from Government Surplus Stores. She liked men鈥檚 pyjamas, the striped ones (you could buy the tops and trousers separately) and she would wear men鈥檚 shirts with a men鈥檚 khaki pullover. When I came home to help out she bought Land Army gear - so although I wasn鈥檛 in the Land Army I wore the dungarees, breeches and thick green sweater that she found for me (second hand) which were a godsend.

My mother was a quite remarkable woman. At the outset of the war we were living in Bedford. There were 5 of us children, and we had 2 brothers from Ceylon living with us - there were never less than six children in the house - but in spite of that she took on so much voluntary war work. She had been a nurse at St Thomas鈥� Hospital and had worked there for the whole of WW1, so she offered her services two mornings a week at our local hospital. She worked for the Red Cross, and she did fire watching (up on the church roof!!) once or twice a week - and then there was the British Restaurant (boring food!) the less said about that the better!

At one point in the war - I can鈥檛 remember exactly when - my sister Joan received the news that her husband Harold had been badly wounded. She went to visit him in hospital and Mother insisted on accompanying her. Hal was obviously very ill indeed - and Mother was appalled at the state of the hospital and the dreary atmosphere and lack of proper care. She wasted no time and went to London and found the appropriate Government office and vented her fury! She told them - 鈥渢his is a military hospital and it鈥檚 a disgrace! These men have served their country and they should be receiving the very best attention. Instead of that they are sent here - this miserable, shoddy place - that has the effrontery to call itself a hospital. These men have just been brought here to die!鈥�

Before long that 鈥渉ospital鈥� was closed down and Harold was transferred to a far superior hospital in Bletchley, Bucks. He was wounded in his back and suffered terrible pain. After about six months he was sent home - still suffering. We could all see he was in agony most of the time. I was working on the farm for the summer, and when I went home for lunch, I would often find him sitting in a chair in the front of the house. He would call me to help him get up as he couldn鈥檛 get out of the chair without help. Again Mother took charge and took him to London to see a specialist who discovered that he had T.B. of the bones in his spine and his ribs. He went back to hospital and was given the best care - but he was there receiving treatment and lying on his back for three years!

When he came out of the hospital the doctors thought he would only live for about one more year. So as he thought he hadn鈥檛 long to live, he decided to live the outdoor life and went in for pigs and poultry. He was amazingly successful - his pigs seemed to have huge litters and were happy and he really had a way with them. They also had a few goats - Mother was a great believer in goat鈥檚 milk to help cure T.B. After a time, they grew peas and beans for Smedleys on their small holding and Hal had one small Ayrshire cow as some of the children didn鈥檛 like goats milk. They also had a pony for the children, and Joan worked with a team of local women picking peas and beans, and also raspberries. Hal was a very keen liberal, and as he got older he came to look more and more like Lloyd George - in fact the people in the village nicknamed him 鈥淥ld Lloyd George鈥�.

Despite the fears for his future, Harold and Jean went onto have 4 children - three girls and a boy - and they were a very happy family. Hal eventually died in 1991 after he and Joan had celebrated their Golden Wedding. He was 74. Sadly Joan died in 1992. She was a lovely person and my best friend all through my life.

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