大象传媒

I was 8 when war was declared in 1939 and I can remember vividly the time leading up to when war was declared as tension built up within the home. Both my mother and father had lived through the first world war, my mother lost her elder brother, and both my parents could recall the misery caused to families who lost loved ones, the bread winner not returning and the harshness of life cast upon the mother left to bring up her young children.

My mother was fearful of my father having to go to war and they talked each evening about what to do if this happened, should she stay with myself in our home or should she live with her sister and husband in Tipton? Although my father was called on to register for call up, his work in fact kept him at home. He was employed by Bulpitt & Sons, Albion Street, Birmingham, (Swan Brand), the pots, pans and kettles were put aside and they made torpedoes. My father, being tool room superintendent played an important part in the manufacture of these weapons. He hated being part of this theatre because they would be used to sink ships and thus take human life in a most gruesome way and this troubled him throughout the war years despite the aggression shown by our enemies.

Although not called on to join the forces he was obliged to join the ARP in the Warley area where we lived and he did have to do fire duty at Bulpitts on a rota basis, this duty was to put out any incendiary bombs which landed on the roof of the factory or which may have penetrated and caused fire within the building. These were always anxious nights when he was away and the relief my mother and myself felt when his key rattled in the front door was beyond belief, especially if there had been a heavy raid over the city during the night.

When war first commenced there was much talk of bombing and shelters were needed for families to go to, but at the beginning of the war Anderson shelters were not available to all. My father and our next door neighbour decided to bury a garden shed away from the houses between our gardens so that we would be away from our homes should they be bombed. Deck chairs were put in, together with blankets to keep us all warm during the nights. Unfortunately, immediately upon completion of burying the shed and covering it with grass it filled with water overnight, the deck chairs floated and the blankets were ruined! Both families eventually bought Anderson shelters which had to be buried near to the houses in order to get above the water table, but even so we would have 2 to 3 inches of water in during the winter months and it was a daily task to bale out so that we could use the shelters during the night if needed. Our shelter was very small, just enough room for a small bunk for myself and two deckchairs for my mum and dad and a very small paraffin heater. Sleeping in these cramped conditions was almost impossible but if the bombing was heavy it brought a sense of security.

Because Birmingham was producing so much in the way of munitions it was bombed quite heavily and although we did not live within the city but on the outskirts it was very frightening hearing the bombs whistling down, the loud explosions and the small guns firing which used to travel round into hot spots trying to bring down the aircraft. Bombs did land within the area we lived in, houses were reduced to rubble and people were killed, craters appeared in roads and gardens over night and the smell of fires burning and the cordite from the bombs was at times very evident. We had two land mines explode simultaneously one night, as our home was more or less midway between these two bombs the ground shook and such a loud bang I have never heard since. Holes were blown in roofs throughout the area and windows blown out, damage within the area was heavy and repairs had to be carried out as quickly as possible due to inclement weather. Those working on the repairs worked so hard and long hours, never grumbled and were always joking and cheerful.

Warley, the area we lived in, was on the outskirts of Birmingham but was next door to Smethwick, Oldbury, West Bromwich, Dudley and the Black Country generally, so there was a very large factory conglomeration, a sitting target for bombers. No lights allowed, so moving about was frightening, cars had covers over the headlamps and had only a very small slit to give light, and you switched the lights off altogether if the sirens sounded an alert. Travelling on buses, the conductor would shout out the stops as they came up, the lighting was dim inside the bus and had to be switched off when air raids were in progress. It was so terrifying as a child to be in these situations.

Schooling carried on and we were trained to carry gas masks with us at all times. When the siren sounded we were marched to the shelters, no one ever ran, we all walked in an orderly fashion with our teachers to the appointed shelter. We sat in rows with very dim lighting and sang songs with actions and the headmaster would make his rounds taking us through our times tables, the louder we chanted the tables the more he liked it and it drowned any aircraft noise, bombs or guns firing. When the all clear sounded we marched back to our classrooms where lessons would be resumed.

School dinners were a source of much disgust! Especially the awful fish pie and sago pudding, or frogspawn as it was always known as, then there was custard - dog sick! We were not allowed to leave any food on our plates they had to go back empty. We didn鈥檛 exactly starve but the food was absolutely awful.

Due to sleepless nights when we had air raids night after night we were given a period of time during the day when arms were placed on the desks and heads were rested on our arms with eyes closed. No one was allowed to speak, absolute silence, children would fall asleep and if they were still asleep when heads came up they were left to continue their sleep.

The night Coventry was bombed will linger in many minds, the sky turned red and orange. My father came home and took us to a high point by the Warley Woods and we could see the glow in the sky and hear the distant 鈥渞umps鈥� as the bombs dropped. It was awesome to look at and everyone standing looking realised that somewhere people where having an awful night. The raid was reported on the radio the next day and the devastation we saw on the cinema screens was appalling, no one imagined that a city could be destroyed overnight in this way.

When Japan entered the war in 1941 people became more fearful despite the fact that this conflict was not on our doorstep. It began to affect people more as personnel was sent to that front. Personnel never knew where they were being posted and used to work out codes with families so that at least those at home might have some idea as to where their loved ones where on the receipt of a letter. Our next door neighbour was sent to Singapore and was taken prisoner as he stepped off the boat and spent the rest of the war years in a POW camp. His wife returned to her family in Manchester and the house was let. The neighbour did return and I can remember seeing him for the first time on his return, all yellow and skinny, not the man that went away.

As the war progressed we watched scenes from the gruesome battles in the cinemas, everyone would sit in complete silence as they saw ships blown up in the Atlantic battles, men covered in oil in the water being rescued from hell, people made homeless in the cities, loosing everything they possessed. Men returning home on leave and finding their house gone and not knowing where their families where. We watched as children were evacuated by train to the countryside, although keeping them safe the misery left within their homes was unbearable for some and the children would return. As each year went by we watched more and more battles and suffering on the screens and at times it was a relief when the main feature was shown, at least it brought a short time of escape and relief. When air raids occurred a small caption would come up informing the audience, some people would leave seeking sanctuary in a local public shelter, others would stay and ignore the bumps and bangs.

Food became scarce, weekly rations were meagre and how the housewives managed in those days goodness only knows. Everyone grew what they could and I remember my mother picking produce from the garden making jams, pickling onions, preserving eggs, when she could get them, and they were revolting to eat after going through this process. The apple trees in our garden were of the kind that would keep and these were meticulously wrapped in newspaper and put into boxes and kept in the garage.

It always amazed me as a child when Christmas came round as the table was always full of wonderful goodies. Christmas was always spent with my two aunts, uncle and grandparents so that the food could be shared and we used to sit down to a most enjoyable feast, even turkey which had been reared in a pen at my grandparents, was duly killed and plucked by dear old Gran and we ate it not giving the poor bird a thought! My grandmother made homemade wine, which brightened the event up no end. Even the Christmas presents and crackers appeared, the crackers being of the home made kind and my stocking was always well filled. To this day I have no idea where they got all the dolls, games, etc. from.

As time went by my father used to walk part way to work, then catch a tram, so that he could save precious petrol coupons which enabled us to make a trip to Bewdley to a farm where we would spend a few days and return home with cheeses, butter, cream, bread and scones made by the farmers family. We paid for the food but also helped out on the farm, harvest time being especially critical. It was always so welcoming to walk into the farmhouse kitchen to a huge cooking range where bread was being baked. They supplied many people within Mamble with food produced in excess of their needs.

Fuel was also short, coal was rationed and it was only possible to have a fire in one room in the house which would be lit at about 4 o鈥檆lock, but it would be such a small fire that the room hardly warmed up. We relied on the back boiler for our hot water and the fire was built up a little more once a week so that we could each have a bath. I was first in with barely 2 inches of water, then mother, adding a little more warm water, last of all poor old dad who would add a little more hot water. That was it until next week! I can鈥檛 remember any of us smelling high but it was always nice when bath night came round!

The winters were so cold, when the snow and frost came the windows in the whole house would freeze, we blew on the ice to look outside, and, of course, having blackout up at the windows no heat got to them so they stayed frozen
as long as the weather was bitter outside. We suffered chilblains and I can remember having sore knees from walking in deep snow to school in wellies and getting feet and legs soaking. The socks we wore offered no warmth to our feet so it felt like walking in bare feet on ice!

By 1943 some of our air raids over Germany were becoming successful and were knocking out vital German installations, which helped turn the war slowly in our favour. The Dambusters raid was received with awe, it was difficult for the general public to take in this kind of technology, that so much could be destroyed as the result of one raid left us all speechless. The men who carried it out were heroes but when people saw the extent of the damage done everyone would fall silent.

We were, of course, lifted by the wonderful speeches made by Churchill and we would sit round the wireless to listen to what was said. No one spoke until the speech was finished and then my mother and father would discuss current situations and actions, I would sit in silence, terrified at what might happen in the future. Relief came when we all sat listening to Itma or We Three in Happydrome. There were the workers playtime programmes during the day when popular music was played and was always cheerful.

When the V-weapons started to drop on London in 1944 it brought terror to most of the nation, would they drop on our city? We still had bombing in Birmingham and this new threat was one no one wanted to face. War was in every part of our lives, you couldn鈥檛 escape from it, it brought terror to all our lives, something we learned to live with, people kept the stiff upper lip, sense of humour and no one grumbled at the sacrifices that had to be made in their daily lives. Everyone used to wonder how long it would all go on, was their no end?

1945 arrived and it looked like hostilities would be ending, they did on 8 May and what relief! As soon as the war came to an end street parties sprang up and Wilson Road, Warley wasn鈥檛 going to be left out. The Mums produced a wonderful sit down feast in the road for the children and not forgetting the fathers who had looked after us through air raids doing ARP and Home Guard duties a second sitting was arranged for them. Where all the food came from I have no idea, but tins of fruit were opened, presumably hoarded during the war years and a bonfire was built in the road with an effigy of Hitler. After the meals, fun and games, the bonfire was lit and we all cheered like mad when Hitler finally burned and toppled over!

The war with Japan continued and although VE had been celebrated, food, fuel and everything necessary to make everyday life comfortable was still rationed and in short supply, so it was still Mothers who had to queue to make life tolerable.

It was August before the war with Japan ended and the horror which greeted the dropping of two atomic bombs was felt very deeply. Some people felt they got what they deserved, others almost hung their heads in shame to think that the Western world would do such a thing. The devastation shown on the cinema screens was shattering.

Slowly everyone began to rebuild their lives, families were reunited, factories returned to making pots, pans, cars, radios, etc., but furniture and homes were short. Houses were desperately needed and it was necessary for builders to have a license to build houses which made the process slow. This continued for many years after the war, in fact the first house my husband and myself had (1955), needed a license by Mucklow & Sons before building could begin and this was on a very large development. Many things remained in short supply for years after this dreadful war, a war that should never be forgotten, nor the sacrifice made by so many people to keep our freedom.

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