大象传媒

At the start of the war I was living in a little village in Westmoreland, (now Cumbria).
I joined the Army and was sent to a training depot in Lancaster.
I was supposed to be there for six weeks but after 22 days my life changed yet again.

One night it must have been about 10-30, a sergeant came into my room and told me I was to be posted the following morning and that I had to be ready to catch the 7-30 train.
I asked where I would be going and was told that I would find out when I arrived on the station platform.
Cardiff was to be the destination.

Unfortunately when I got arrived my papers had not followed so I spent the next few days under house arrest.
Eventually I joined the Army Service Corps as a cook where I had six girls and two men to help me to prepare the meals.
I was promoted a couple of months later, so at least someone appreciated what I was doing.
Another couple of months and I was promoted again, but I was still doing the same job.

A medical officer told everyone they had to have inoculations, the girls were much more brave than the men who really didn't like the thought of a little pin prick, they were going down like flies.

Up till this time I was working as a cook but was told that I would be attached to the Medical Corps where once again I cooked for both the patients and the staff.
Soon I caught bronchitis and was told by the medics that working in an enclosed environment probably caused it.
So where next?

Cardiff to Aberdeen, a journey which at that time took thirty seven hours, another five hours further north, and the last part of the journey by bus, even still further north.

There for 11 months, and back to Cardiff again, this time as a clerical officer.
Unfortunately I couldn't type, or take shorthand, in fact I had no idea how to do either, but they insisted and told me that they would teach me. I did learn to type eventually, but shorthand defeated me at that time. However many years later I did learn shorthand.

There was always something going on, I was never left doing nothing.
One day I was walking along the street with an air raid warden for company, there was a terrific air raid and a piece of shrapnel went through the brim of my helmet.
The warden said he was glad he was with me, but I wonder whether he really meant it?

I remember when there was an air raid all the local people used to squeeze into the air raid shelter where we used to make gallons of coffee. Some of the people had come straight from work and not had chance to eat.
Sometimes we were there for hours and hours, passing the time as best we could. It really was a very worrying time.
The main German target was the Cardiff dock. Sometimes it was really bad, the whole sky became lit up.
During the war trams used to run all over Cardiff, that is until the raids came, and then everything stopped.

The noise, the danger, the lack of transport, the smells, the dust and rubble, all helped to make my time in Cardiff extremely 'memorable'.

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