大象传媒

This story was submitted to the People's War site by Brian O'Connor from Crawley and has been added to the website on behalf of David Orrow, with his permission, and he fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

I was four years old when war broke out. My father, Albert (Bert to one and all) was called into service, and joined the REME. Grandparents, Nan (I honestly can not recall her first name) and John Young, owned a then 'traditional' pie and mash shop in Penwith Road, Wandsworth. Ironically (you'll find out why later) they had moved the shop there from nearby Brixton at the start of war, thinking it would be safer.

The locality was well served with small retailers. Adjacent to each other were, Cusdens the grocers, a tobacconist and confectioners', Youngs' Pie and Mash Shop, a bakers, a wet fish shop, and finally a shoe shop. Opposite was a pub, called I think, The Garrett, complete with gardens. Behind this was Garrett Lane School, which I duly attended. It was a tightly knit, friendly community.

My mother Anne, and I, lived in a flat above the bakery. Next door my grandparents lived in a similar flat above the pie and mash shop. Consequently my most vivid general memory of the time is of the wonderful smells emanating from both premises. The pies were made on a daily basis at the back of the shop from fresh ingredients purchased locally. All three, mother and grandparents, worked in the shop. It was a case of very long hours, rising at the crack of dawn to prepare the produce, then selling throughout the day from about 10am onwards.

A parrot. Yes a parrot. I'm not sure how it was acquired, but acquired it was. It resided in a cage, on a table, in a corner of the shop. No health and safety problems in those days. The primary purpose it served, was to amuse customers. Being an African Gray it had a reasonable vocabulary of quite a colloquial nature. Oddly, it could also differentiate between the sexes, often 'wolf whistling' passing ladies. The days of political correctness were still in the far distant future.

Came the bomb in 1941. It struck early one morning, hitting the school. Fortunately, because of the hour, I don't think it caused many casualties. However the blast destroyed all the shop fronts. In fact after the war they had to be demolished. The shop area was covered in rubble and dust. There, in one corner, was the cage containing the parrot. It had been covered with a cloth for night. It was doubtful if the poor thing could possibly have survived the shock and noise of the explosion.

With a good deal of trepidation my grandmother walked slowly across the shopfloor. Upon reaching the cage she slowly lifted the cover, knowing in her heart what to expect. Instead she was accosted by a very alert bird looking at her with a very beady eye, who then greeted her with the words, "Hello you old bugger!" Both went on to survive the war.

The properties had to be evacuated. As stated they were soon to be pulled down. My grandfather opened yet another shop in nearby Garrett Lane which survived until the early seventies. My father had taken over after my grandfather retired.

The original shop in Brixton survived the war unscathed.

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