大象传媒

This story has been written onto the 大象传媒 People's War site by CSV Storygatherer Lucy Thomas on behalf of Pauline Husband. They fully understand the terms and conditions of the site.

SECOND WORLD WAR MEMORIES OF PAULINE HUSBAND
Part 1

1939 proved to be quite a milestone in my young life. At the end of January, I became five and started school at the local Church School in Cheltenham where my family had recently moved from Birmingham. In September, the Second World War started. I can clearly remember the announcement on the radio. I was sitting in the dining room with my parents waiting for the Prime Minister to speak. His words have gone down in history, but I recall him saying, 鈥淲e are now at war with Germany鈥�, and my father looking at my mother saying 鈥渢hat鈥檚 it then鈥�. He was in the First World War, in the trenches and Ypres, so no doubt those words must have dreadful memories.

At first, very little seemed to happen. One of the first things I noticed was everyone had to have blackout curtains or blinds so that no lights could be seen by enemy aircraft. Car headlights had sticky paper over them, or special caps, to cut down the beam, and even our torch was shaded. The air-raid warden used to come round and if he could see a light, just a chink from badly pulled curtains, he would knock or tap the window, saying 鈥測ou鈥檙e showing a light missus!鈥�

Some people stuck sticky tape on their windows to stop flying glass. We had quite small panes in our windows, so Mother decided she wasn鈥檛 going to have that! How was she supposed to clean her windows with all that stuff on them, she wanted to know!

Metal railings and metal saucepans etc were collected to help make planes with which to fight the Germans.

We all had to have identity cards. I had a number which I had to memorize. I can still quote it 鈥� OCCQ/63/3. Father was /1, Mother /2 and I was /3.

We were also all issued with gas masks. I can still recall the smell of them. I found that if I put mine on, took a deep breath and blew out hard enough, I could make a rude noise! It was great fun, especially in gas mask practice at school. I carried my gas mask to school every day in a square box with a brown suedette cover.

Then they brought out the Anderson shelter. I believe they were basically a metal box 鈥� like construction that you buried in the garden and put sandbags over the roof. My husband says they had one, but where he lived there was light sandy soil and I don鈥檛 think my Father thought much of the idea of having to dig a big hole in our garden through heavy clay. That is probably the reason why I can鈥檛 remember any nearby.

What we did have though were two quite large shelters on the pavement. Fortunately, the one on our side of the road wasn鈥檛 in front of our house but about two doors up. They covered the pavement and the grass verge leaving just enough room to squeeze between them and the hedge. They were brick built with a flat concrete reinforced roof. The other shelter was almost opposite our house on the other side of the road. For the whole duration of the war, I never recall anyone sheltering in either of them. I think their main function would have been to protect against shrapnel or perhaps incendiary bombs, as there is no way they would have withstood a direct hit.

My Father volunteered to become a Fire Watcher. I must say I don鈥檛 remember the Home Guard in our area, but there were some local men in the ARP. They wore tin hats with the letters on the front, but my father spent most of his fire watching duties on the roof of the famous Cheltenham Ladies College. We seemed to get quite a lot of incendiary bombs and it was not unusual for him to walk past these in the road on his way home, and there were brown marks on the pavement where they had burned out.

We were urged to Dig for Victory as rationing was taking hold. Front gardens were dug up to plant vegetables, but not many in our road as we had good sized back gardens. My father was brought up on the land, my grandfather being a commercial grower, so our garden was full of vegetables and fruit. We also had an allotment which was about a mile away and Dad used to go down on his bike (very few had cars) and bring all this produce back. We often had more than we needed so it was distributed to the neighbours. Some people kept chickens, so a handful of runner beans and a few potatoes might be rewarded with a few fresh eggs. If we had one or two to spare, Mother would 鈥減ut some down鈥�. This involved a large earthenware jar which was filled with a jelly-like substance called Waterglass (at least, that鈥檚 what Mother called it). You carefully lowered the egg into the jar so that it was covered, and this was supposed to preserve it until it was needed. Any spare fruit was bottled in Kilner jars. Carrots were put in a box layered in sand if possible, but more often in ash.

My uncle had a florist shop in Cheltenham. He was called Robert Young, and his shop/small garden centre is still there, trading under his name. It was very difficult for him to get flowers in the war, so my father used to grow some for him. How he managed it on such heavy soil I don鈥檛 know, but it was certainly a tribute to his skill as a gardener. I can see our kitchen table full of flowers, especially sweet peas which had to be bunched. He also grew scabious, gypsophelia, chrysanths and Esther Reeds, the later being used mainly for wreaths.

GERT and DAISY THE COCKERELS?

Many people kept chickens at the bottom of their gardens. My friend鈥檚 mother was one of them. One year, she decided to rear two cockerels for Christmas, which would be a rare treat. These birds, for some unknown reason, went under the improbable names of Gert and Daisy which in itself was odd, both being male birds. They were nasty-tempered things, and my friend and I kept well clear of them. One day, about three weeks before Christmas, my friend鈥檚 mother ventured into the run to feed them when one flew at her. She lashed out with the corn container and promptly knocked poor Gert out cold. She really thought she鈥檇 killed him. What a tragedy 鈥� what was Cyril (her husband) going to say 鈥� the Christmas dinner dead three weeks before Christmas. Remember, no deep freezers then. Fortunately, after a spoonful of brandy and some TLC, he came round, ruffled his feathers and staggered off. What a relief!

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