大象传媒

AFTER THE WAR

Battles had to be won on all fronts in the aftermath of war in Europe. Britain, as the song goes, had to 鈥淧ick itself up, dust itself down and start all over again.鈥�

My grandaughter, aged sixteen, had come back from a school trip to Barcelona and surveying the wonderful architecture of that city.

鈥淵ou鈥檇 never believe it, Grandma,鈥� she said enthusiastically, 鈥淪ome of the buildings were just out of this world!鈥�

I hesitated for a minute, 鈥淵ou鈥檝e already seen things I鈥檝e never seen.鈥�

鈥淚 expect you saw other things when you were my age?鈥� she replied with interest.

It was the moment I鈥檇 been waiting for and she was in the mood to listen.

鈥淚n 1946 and at your age my ambition was to be an actress. I went to London to audition for the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art and well remember the architecture there. Devastation and destruction was everywhere. Bombed buildings revealed their inner walls and rooms; fire places dangled precariously in the air; exposed water pipes and electricity wires swayed in the wind and small children ran dangerously to play amid the rubble and the dust.
My landlady, an elderly, gentle lady, lived with her family in East Finchley. She and her sister had the upper floor whilst her son and his wife lived in the lower part of the house. I was too young to appreciate what they had gone through during the war years, Never once did they talk about their hardships and the disruptions to their lives. I knew what it was to have long nights in the Anderson shelter in Rotherham when raiders bombed Sheffield but only a vivid imagination helped me to understand something of this family鈥檚 hardships. I was sheltered, fed, guided and warmly helped by them through my formative months when setting out into the big world.鈥�

My Grandaughter blinked!

鈥淟ater that year my father could no longer support me in London and, like so many of my age group too young to go to war, I now joined the WRNS. Cinema showing of people in uniform was the attraction. After training in January 1947 we young recruits were dispatched to Yorkshire for a Supply Course. We found ourselves stuck in a train for twelve hours in an awful snowstorm heading for Wetherby training camp. We were eventually dug out and arrived at camp having walked through feet of snow nursing vaccinated arms and feverish temperatures. Nothing was ready for us. The place was so cold and damp that metal framed windows ran with the vapour from our breath. We slept on bare wire beds, shivering in our topcoats, tried to defrost the water pipes and had to sweep up an enormous army of cockroaches in the galley before we could find enough tinned food to satisfy hungry mouths. Raiding the stock cupboards for blankets we cursed the Navy for landing us in this god-forsaken place. A Naval team got through the snowstorms two days later.
After training I was posted as Leading Wren to the Clothing Store in HMS Drake, Devonport and sweltered under the glass office lean-to in my black stockings, surge suit, white shirt and tie. I dealt with the cost of kitting out Naval men, fresh off their ships, with new clothes. Sometimes I was the first female they spoke to after a long time spent at sea. Rationing and shortages were still strictly imposed. One task I hated was issuing the rum ration from a deep barrel. As Wrens did not wear trousers we took a risk of showing off the pink flesh at the top of our stockings when bending over. Friendly whistles and dates came our way as you can imagine. One Naval Artificer I met in Plymouth became my husband years later.鈥�

鈥淲hat happened next?鈥� she asked.

鈥淢y fianc茅e, (your grandpa) newly demobbed from National Service with the Navy was destined for College before going to Kenya to work for the Methodist Missionary Society. I made an appeal after two years. to be released from the WRNS and become a visiting student at The Wesley Deaconess College in Ilkley, arriving still wearing my WRNS uniform minus the badges and hat. The Methodist Church at that time did not allow its ministers to marry until after a seven-year probation which meant a lot of filling in to do.
I was not prepared for the cloistered life, or the icy winds from the moors. We were still on food rationing and I had hardly any clothing to wear. For special occasions I borrowed clothes from other students from all walks of life, backgrounds and countries. One student had been transported from Guernsey with her family to a German concentration camp where her mother died. Two very small and delicate students were from Burma and another from South Africa. Many had been in the forces during the war or on dangerous war missions. Being mature women with a lot of experience I became the baby of the student intake; spent my 21st birthday there and was given the title of 鈥� Sister Audrey鈥�.鈥�

My Grandaughter stayed to hear about the deaconesses.

鈥淒uring one vacation I was sent to work in an East End London Mission. The deaconesses and their minister were working courageously below ground surrounded by rubble and dust and trying to provide hot meals for people who had been bombed out of their homes and were living in damp, unhealthy conditions. I remember the food and clothing parcels sent by other churches in Britain to meet their needs.

鈥淚 can鈥檛 imagine what that was like,鈥� she added, 鈥淲e鈥檝e got so much today.鈥�

鈥淚 was posted in September 1950 to another London Mission on the Wandsworth Road. It introduced me to a world where there was such a release of energy after the dull war years. Every minute was crammed with activity until past midnight. Teddy boys and rival gangs with flick knives roamed the streets. There were constant upheavals, the shattering of furniture and many life-threatening situations at Friendship House. Life was full of the unexpected and one learned quickly to meet crisis when it came and call on professional help when needed. Divorcees, the homeless and evicted, criminals, battered women, abused and runaway children came to our doors every day and we sometime had to step over sleeping bundles sprawled about the building. Griff鈥檚 half-hour 大象传媒 broadcasts were in full swing. (Rev. Douglas Griffiths) Sometimes I found myself singing, reading or producing a dialogue with little preparation. Life was spontaneous, communal, problematic but exciting!鈥�

鈥淵ou must have been in your element, Grandma.鈥�

鈥淚 was! An ex-Rada student in action you might say!鈥� After college I was sent to work in Chatham for a year before going on to City Road London at the Leysian Mission. From my window on the eighth floor I could see the Dome of St. Paul鈥檚 Cathedral and, from my room, go onto the roof to enjoy panoramic views of the city, the dereliction of war below forgotten. It was my seventh heaven! The air above was fresher; I could hear the sound of church bells between the chimes of Big Ben - and see the sky!
The huge building was dimly lit and had an aging lift which rattled and panted its way to the top and then groaned all the way down. It had been badly damaged by bombs and the main hall almost totally demolished. Rebuilding was hanging fire for a grant from the War Office. Parts of the building were cordoned off because of falling debris. It was incredibly dismal and impossible to keep clean. Some rooms were let as offices during the daytime but were empty at night except for the eerie silence and creaking in the corridors.
My own office was on the ground floor with a huge roll-top desk. There was a makeshift caf茅 in the cellar and many meeting rooms. Worship was conducted in a large, dark underground room with a small side chapel. It had a beautiful grand piano which, when not in use, was commandeered by the Covent Garden Opera singers for their practice sessions. They held me spellbound.鈥�

鈥淲eren鈥檛 you afraid the whole building might fall in?鈥� she asked.

鈥淣ever gave it a thought at the time. There was so much to do making visits to homes and hospitals in the area. Londoners had gone through all the long years of the war and were beginning to wonder when their turn would come for new homes or even repairs to their present ones. Children were also in danger, playing in the open spaces where unexploded bombs might lay. People tried to make do with what they had. Everything was still on ration. My meat ration was one shilling and a penny a week. Usually I asked the butcher for one chop. When permission came for me to sail for Kenya in 1952 the church members collected clothing stamps for me to buy material for a wedding dress. I was given a nylon parachute to make underclothing. (It was totally unsuitable for the tropics.)鈥�

鈥淲hat happened next?鈥� asked my grandaughter.

鈥� I sailed to Africa with the SS Uganda on its maiden voyage, stopping only at Port Said. Many young people were aboard and heading for East Africa, Rhodesia, and South Africa after years of absence or to begin new careers after the war. That had been over for seven years but there was a hint of adventure, a sense of freedom - hard won, and lots of hope and anticipation. Many who had been too young to fight in the war would now serve their country in other ways. There were children separated from their parents during the war years, university students, ex members of His Majesty鈥檚 forces, adventurers, nannies, civil servants, missionaries, government officials, farmers, actors and land owners. An atmosphere of adventure with a sense of freedom and hope filled the ship.
I was married in a little African Church 鈥� the one with a pedal organ and just one bellow. Your grandpa and I had been apart for two years. Our first home was in a remote part of the Tana River where crocodiles, elephants, snakes, lions and a lot of wild life lived. There were many diseases also but the Wapokomo people sang in beautiful harmony accompanied by drumbeats. The Neukirchen German Lutheran Church had built the mission station on the river before the WW2 when Britain interned the German missionaries. Now the British Methodist Church was asked to reopen the mission by the Colonial government.
Most of our time was spent on safari, travelling by dugout canoe and sleeping on camp beds under the stars. Together with the people we made our own bricks from trampled clay, built a hospital and boarding school for boys before moving to Limuru near Nairobi where my husband became the first non - Anglican Vice Principal of St. Paul鈥檚 United Theological College. It was during the Mau Mau uprising and we had to sleep with flares under our pillows as people were all very vulnerable in that area of Kikuyu.
Your father was born in Nairobi in 1955. We finished our time in Mombasa and returned to England in 1958. Life had taken on a new ambiance after the long years of war. We had a new Queen, clothes were more colourful and stylish, and there were desirable household gadgets and new designs of all sorts. Our television was in black and white but food was more plentiful and varied. Hope abounded!鈥�

鈥淭hanks Grandma, I鈥檒l remember you and all this when I鈥檓 doing my A levels and going off to Uni!鈥�

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