大象传媒

I was one year old when the war started & seven when it finished .We lived in Cardiff & when my father died we went to live with my grandparents in Newport Rd.
Each morning I would be woken by my grandmother as my mother & grandfather worked in the Ministry of Fuel & power & were at their desks by 8.00a.m.There was toast & margarine for breakfast (Children were allowed extra eggs but for some reason my pop was given the egg ,doling out a few "soldiers" to me )With my face & hands scrubbed with carbolic soap-or,if we were luckyWright's Coal-tar,I was ready for school .
My mittens were kept safe by elastic threaded down my sleeves & my gas mask hung round my neck in a cardboard box.It was a Minnie Mouse mask which I carried with pride as there were not as many of those It smelled strongly of rubber & we used to chew away at the mouthpiece whenever we were forced to put them on.They became quite dog-eared & would probably have afforded little protection in a real gas attack .
The route to school was always an adventure .Houses disappeared overnight,men dug in ruins & shooed us away when we got too curious .And there were three kinds of smells that I remember-the baker's shop where I could sometimes buy a penny bun ,covered with bright pink icing-& two frightening smells .Big rough men were dismantling all the railings & the sparks of their oxy-acetyline gadgetsflew at us with a pungent choking smell which made us cough .The worst was the lingering carbon smell of the burnt out buildings which was so much like the smell as we passed the coal carts that I used to hold my breath & run. My best friend's house suffered a direct hit one night &no bodies were ever found & that was the smell-which haunts me to this day .
In school the benches were attached to the desks with inkwells at both endsWe had to sit to attention,had our hands hit with a ruler when we dropped ink blots on our work -which was often in my case as I wasa a clumsy left-hander. Even at that early age you got the cane for being late,talking or playing the fool-and your hand stung like mad for ages .
We rehearsed enthusiastically for the Christmas pageant which included a rousing dance about the seasons .There were angels & fairies &even one lucky child playing the Sun but for some unknown reason I was a crow .There were air-raid shelters at school.If the sirens sounded in the day we were herded into them .Later I learned that my mother was always frantic with worry in case she never saw me again butwe quite enjoyed it as there were games & singing & we made up funny rhymes about Hitler .
I ran with a rough gang of boys, much to my family's horror & ,on the way home we would chase across bomb sites often hotly pursued by air-raid wardens,panting as they tried to impress on us how dangerous such high-jinks were.But we persevered ,collecting flak & bits of ammunition & once some bits of German plane wreckage .In the gathering darkness we had to be careful & watch out for cars as their headlights were taped up except for a narrow strip of light .
Soldiers were passing through Cardiff in their thousands ,many of them American & we would shout out "Any gum chum?" & they would throw us sweets & candy bars-much appreciated additions to our meagre rations.We played a "chicken" game with their jeeps which consisted of jumping out on to the road as they passed .The winner was the child whose toes were closest to their wheels .One day a coloured regiment was passing as we played our game .The jeep screeched to a halt & we took off .I was the slowest & a giant of a sergeant caught me ,got my name & address out of me ,tucked me under his arm & marched me home .I got a sharp slap on the legs ,my Nana invited him & his friends in for tea & cakes -as she did with every serviceman she came across-& she ended up with tins of peaches& jam & ham& sugar ,coffee & god knows what else ,as they were embarking for the D-Day invasions.I was given a Ten shilling note & told I would get another on his return .But we never saw him again .
When my grandad got home from work he would spend some time with me before going out on his air-raid warden duties.He had painted up an old trike for me & we would go for"a ride round the houses" down to watch the planes take off .
At bed-time I was always wrapped in a blanket so that when the sirens went off, the nearest adult could snatch me out of bed & race downstairs If the raid had not started we could run to the shelter at the bottom of the garden.Once the guns began it wastoo dangerous to venture outside as you could be hit by falling flak so the space under the stairs was kitted out with chairs,cushions,lamps,candles biscuits & flasks of tea & we sat in there till the All-Clear siren went.Pop would call back every now & again,shouting out "How are my girls?Are you still there"-as if we would have gone anywhere
And every morning we would sort ourselves out& go about our usual routines ,though sometimes I did wonder when my wonderful grandfather ever found time to sleep.

漏 Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.