大象传媒

Growing up in Birmingham -

I grew up in Birmingham where work was more readily available in the 1930鈥檚 than in Church Stratton, Shropshire, where my parents and I were born. I was nearly 10 when war broke out, so I remember Dad walking up the garden path that Sunday 39. 1939, late from bell ringing for the 11am church service. The ringers had heard the news from the vicarage; so with Ringing Captain, Billy Cartwright, Dad had decided that he, Mum, brother Keith age 7, baby Pauline 10 months and I would travel in Billy鈥檚 car, (he was a solicitor, so had such a vehicle), with his family to Church Stretton, hoping that Grandad Corfield would put us all up for the few days, everyone supposed would decide our fate. The men would then return to work, of course.

How we all fitted into Grandad鈥檚 3-bedroom house can鈥檛 remember - but nothing happened to Birmingham! - so 2 weeks later - because of school - back we travelled.

Dad had had TB in 1933/34 so he was not called up, as his male staff were. As a grocer, people still needed to eat - so mum helped at the shop most afternoons and Saturday mornings. Pauline went in her pram - to sleep behind the counter at first, but later to be looked after by Mrs Wardle on Thursdays (when I collected her after school) and by a neighbour, Mrs Hewett, on other days. I helped on Saturdays.

Brother Keith, aged 8 in 1939, had belonged to the Cubs - but all such organisations ceased immediately - no one went away from the house (and air raid shelter) in the evenings. He did join the church choir though, and later learned bell-ringing when he was tall enough. I had been a Brownie for nearly 2 years, so was really upset when all such meetings ceased - especially the dancing class which I so enjoyed.

Like many others, Dad had an allotment to which Keith and I often cycled -though we enjoyed a nearby bluebell wood - which also attracted many birds if we were quiet. Mum spent many evenings mending socks - which I soon learned to do too. Aunts were helpful making clothes for us children from 鈥榗ut downs鈥�.

By June 1940, 4 girls from St Mary鈥檚 C of E School were 鈥榩repared鈥� for the grammar school entrance exam - held in the local parish hail. Beryl, Betty, Olive and I all passed - Olive going to George Dixons, while 3 of us set out for King鈥檚 Norton Grammar School in early July for the interview with the Headmistress, Dr Kathleen Anderson. To my amazement Dr Anderson came into the hall and took each girl by the hand, leading one at a time into her room. I remember telling her I was reading 鈥楥hildren of the New Forest鈥� because in August 1939 Beryl鈥檚 parents had taken me with them to Bournemouth - and we had briefly visited the New Forest. Dr Anderson was so pleased and kind - not what I had supposed a grammar school headmistress to be like at all - so I adored her immediately -and with justification. She proved to be especially helpful to all girls whose homes had been bombed overnight and who no longer had school uniform, (bought with clothing coupons, of course) or homework books etc. We all loved her.

But in July 1944 Dr Anderson left King鈥檚 Norton (just after we 鈥楢鈥� form girls had taken (in 4 years) the General School Certificate exam), She moved to North London Collegiate School after 25 years there (and a TV programme about her), she retired as Dame Kitty Anderson.

Only once do I remember a day time raid while at school - and in the brick shelter singing a French song. But night raids - oh yes鈥� - because we children hated being woken up to grab blankets or the eiderdown, force feet into outdoor shoes or Wellingtons and trudge down the garden to the Anderson metal shelter. In winter we simply lay under the dining room table - but never were the gas masks needed I鈥檓 glad to say. Only the night when Coventry was bombed do I remember clearly. Dad was an Air Raid Warden so always went to the ARP post having seen us into the shelter - and returned every now and again to 鈥榬eport鈥�. But that night he came to say that all the fire services, ambulance staff, etc, were moving moved from west of Birmingham to the east of the city, so that similar staff from East Birmingham could go to help in Coventry. Meanwhile we would be helped by such staff from villages and towns to our west, ie. Wolverhamptonl, Worcester, etc. I thought that was clever - but hated being in the cold shelter for what seemed forever.

Having passed School Certificate in 1944, Dad asked me to suggest a treat -and my answer was 鈥渢o visit London for a day鈥�. So in August Dad and I travelled by train from Snow Hill Station to Paddington, then by underground to Trafalgar Square. To emerge into the bustle of traffic, the fine buildings, the wide streets and the pigeons - it was, to me, wonderful. Dad had never been to London, but had maps of the Underground and the streets near Trafalgar Square - so we walked towards Buckingham Palace, but stopped in one of the very big parks to eat our sandwiches. We then walked back via Trafalgar Square and to Westminster via another busy road.

Dad knew I hoped to see Oxford Street, but it wasn鈥檛 so different from our main Birmingham shopping streets, except that the Tube brought us there. Even the shoes were what we could buy at home. So back to Paddington and home - but I returned knowing that London was where I wanted to be. Though VI and V2 rockets were being launched by the Germans in August 1944 on London and the south-east - we saw none of them, thank goodness.

One more year of school - I had great difficulty accepting the physics and the applied maths, yet loved chemistry and pure maths. I left school in July 1945 to join others at a school harvest camp near Henley-in-Arden. It was there that we learned, in August 1945, that the war in Japan (like the war in Europe) had ended, it upset the villagers that they couldn鈥檛 use their village hail, because we were sleeping there, to celebrate this event.

On my return to Birmingham from this camp, I started work at age 15 in a Tax Office, then occupying a block of what would have been luxury flats if completed. We had very basic accommodation there - and had a canteen of the same dishes we could cook at home. Even a nearby British Restaurant had very little variety to offer - but it enabled us to get exercise - and away from work. Slowly, slowly, life improved, troops were 鈥榙e-mobbed鈥� and returned to the jobs very many women had become proficient in. Eventually even clothes rationing ceased and the New Look was launched. Life was truly returning to normal.

Erica Haslam

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