大象传媒

Birmingham at War as I Remember It
Eunice Jones (nee Edwards)
Part 3

The winter weather during the war was terrible. That of 1939 was bad. One morning, the snow was a foot deep and few people had Wellington boots. I went to our local shopping centre and bought the last pair in stock 鈥� I had to have a size too small or nothing. I had walked into driving fine snow that stung like tiny needles on my shins, so I was glad for the smaller size wellies. The snow froze and where people walked on the pavements it became like thick glass. Then it snowed again until we were sliding about on eight inches of thick ice. This, in the black-out was no joke. The snow was shovelled into the gutters and formed a barrier about two feet high between the road and the pavement. Hence if you wanted to cross the road you had to climb these frozen alps.

I mentioned earlier on that after last awful raid we went each night to sleep in a little cottage near Romsely,the home of Mr and Mrs Fido. It had only 2 bedrooms, so Mom and Dad slept on the bed and my sister and I slept on the floor. It was heaven after the spidery cellar and we felt safe. I have one lovely memory of that time. The couple who had offered us hospitality had two little children, George and Janet, aged about five and six. One night my sister and I decided to take the dog for a walk and the children came too. There had been a heavy fall of snow, so we put on our wellies. Behind the cottage rose a hill covered with pine trees. It was a bright moonlit night, and we could see our way along the wide snow-covered rides as we trudged up between the trees. Suddenly the children began to sing 鈥淎way in a Manger鈥�. My sister and I joined in, and our voices filled the snowy woodland, and the dog scampered about in the snow, tail-wagging and nose-sniffing. How peaceful it was. How beautiful. It was hard to believe there was a war on. The memory of that lovely walk has remained with me ever since and whenever I hear 'Away in a Manger' sung, I think of those two delightful children.

The winter of 1940 was really severe. We woke up one morning to a scene like Switzerland. The snow had blown off the hills filling the valley. The country lanes were full of snow as high as the hedges. Our car was in a barn, with ten feet of snow blocking the door. We were stuck there for a week. Neither the milkman nor the postman could get to us.

Eventually the snow froze hard and, on the seventh day, we packed our things in haversacks and walked about three quarters of a mile on top of the hedges till we struck a major road. This was only usable in the middle of the road. Luckily an American came along in a big car and he gave us a lift to the nearest town and bus depot. So, we eventually arrived at the home of some relations. [Unfortunately I had to take this enforced leave from work as holiday!]

Every winter we had snow and ice. The railway points froze so coal could not be moved from the mines. This was bad for production as well as domestic heating. Suddenly winter boots came on the market with warm linings and all the women were soon wearing them. I think we had to part with six coupons when buying them.

In those days, we had a lot of happy times. Rambling in the countryside became a favourite pastime. At weekends we went into the country, walking all day long. I often took about ten ramblers for walks; sometimes we had weekends away. Three or four of us went out for long bike rides into the country 鈥� there was not much motor traffic owing to petrol rationing. Mostly we met military vehicles and lots of American transport on the main roads, but the lanes we had to ourselves. On our hiking trips we used to stop off at the local pub for a shandy to refresh ourselves. Throughout the war, beer (which I did not like), was far more plentiful than whisky. Other spirits were almost unobtainable. When suppliers finally ran out of port and sherry, they could not replenish their stocks. Whisky, coming from Scotland, could sometimes be obtained.

I loved working in Birmingham. There was a lot of what we called 鈥榖ombage鈥� about, places where a shop or caf茅 had been but was now a pile of rubble. Yet life came back to the city and shops did business. The place was crowded with people in all sorts of uniforms from all over the world, all different skin colours. We had loads of Americans and the American service women filled us with envy when we saw their nylon stockings. I had a very cheeky Chinese friend, a refugee from Singapore who was some sort of scientist, who joined our rambles. He had a very wicked sense of humour. I also had Jewish refugee friends 鈥� with tales of horror. Most of them had left parents in Austria or Germany and would never see them again.

During the war, everybody listened to the 9 o鈥檆lock news. We waited with bated breath to hear how the war was going. I will never forget the occasions when Winston Churchill spoke to us. His 鈥楤lood, Toil, Tears and Sweat鈥� speech rallied everybody. Without him, I do not believe we would have survived. It was wonderful to have the wireless and we did have some good entertainment too. I can remember lots of good bands, comedians like Arthur Askey, but the king of them all was Tommy Handley in ITMA. His catch phrases came into common use: 鈥淭a ta for now鈥�, 鈥淐an I do you now sir?鈥� (Mrs Mop), 鈥淚t鈥檚 being so cheerful as keeps me going鈥� (Mona Lott). A statue should be erected to Tommy Handley.

We relied so much on the wireless. Soon Music While You Work was broadcast for people on war work in the factories, and people sang as they worked to relieve the monotony of their jobs. Entertainment was arranged during meal breaks too, and lots of top rate artistes appeared on the bills. To keep in touch with service men and women Family Favourites was broadcast at Sunday dinner time and people wrote in with special requests for their loved ones. Cliff Michelmore presented this programme with the assistance of Jean Metcalfe, whom he eventually married. Other popular broadcasters were the singers Vera Lynn and Ann Shelton.

There were a lot of irksome restrictions. All signposts were taken down so if you lost your way in the country, hard luck. This was, of course, to make it difficult for spies and parachutists to move about. Petrol was rationed. General motorists were entitled to five gallons a month for private use. People who needed it for business purposes, like my father who was a commercial traveller, and bus companies and so on 鈥� were allowed what was considered necessary to keep business life going. After some months of rationing, people who only had the five gallons gradually gave up and stopped using their cars. This included my boss who had kindly given me a lift to work every day, as he 鈥� like many others - decided it was more economical to take it off the road for the duration. So from then on, I took the bus to work. The 大象传媒 had to stop their daily weather forecasts. Not a good idea to tell the Germans that we were going to have a cloudless night. Double summertime was introduced, so we had two hours extra light in the evenings in the summer and we kept to summertime in the winter. It was felt that people needed that extra time in the evening for recreation. Some of the parks had open-air dancing in the summer evenings.

Somewhere around 1942 I decided I would like a bicycle. Most of my friends had one and we felt we could go further afield than just rambling. Bicycles were in short supply but a neighbour knew a man who ran the local cycle store. He had a word with him and after some weeks my new cycle arrived. It cost about 拢8.00 鈥� about three times my weekly wage. I was thrilled and soon we were exploring the countryside round about. I needed something to wear to keep my skirts for work. Shorts would have been nice but one couldn鈥檛 waste coupons on those. My mother had a brilliant idea. Hanging in the wardrobe was the gym slip I had last worn in 1933. Mother had made it for me in 1931 but the material was absolutely fine. She had made it from best serge and the pleats were very wide. Much better than the gym slips in the shops. Together we unpicked it, washed and ironed it and, out of this lovely material, my mother made me a divided skirt. Mother was a wonderful dress maker and it fitted so perfectly. It looked just like a skirt until I mounted my bike.

Although we took to wearing trousers during air raids, we never wore them to work or to go out socially. Mostly because they weren鈥檛 very nice to look out, made of rough material but they were warm. We certainly could never wear them to work at the office. I think bus conductresses wore them but they were part of their uniform and so were better made. Possibly factory workers wore them but I cannot be sure.

To raise money, very early in the war, the Government introduced Purchase Tax on clothing. I can鈥檛 think now how much it was 鈥� about 5% or 10%. I believe this was before clothing coupons were issued. We did not have much notice and there was a sudden rush to the shops. On the last day before the Tax came into operation, hoards of people were in town buying what they could. Shops sold out very quickly. The coupons we were issued had to last a whole year and I seem to remember that during the course of the war, the number of coupons was reduced to forty-eight and then to about thirty-six 鈥� this made things increasingly difficult. A coat or a suit for a man was sixteen coupons; vests, knickers and stockings were three coupons each and shoes were, I think, about six coupons.

Fashions began to change: women began to wear flat-heeled shoes, more sensible if one could not get transport home and one had to walk. Leather became scarce and we had a lot of cr锚pe-soled shoes 鈥� which were comfortable 鈥� and wedge-shaped soles came into fashion. Wooden clogs also came on the market for a short time. I think mill workers in Lancashire and the North had always worn them in their factories and was thus an accepted form of footwear. I only saw one or two people wearing them in Birmingham. I think the advantage was that you did not have to surrender coupons or less than for proper shoes. Hats were never rationed or on coupons, but women took to wearing head scarves. Women factory-workers wore scarves tied over the top of their heads as a matter of safety when working with machinery. They looked rather nice and set a fashion outside the work place. Hats were recycled and sometimes, when buying a new hat, you could see old stitching marks in the felt. With the dreadfully cold winters we had during the war, we needed warm scarves on our heads. We looked like the refugees we had seen at the cinema fleeing along the roads of France. Stockings were a nuisance as the feet wore out so quickly and it was a tragedy if you laddered them. I spent hours darning mine 鈥� you could not throw them away if they were at all repairable. After the Americans came to Britain, nylon stockings began to appear. They were cherished by the lucky owners, but were liable to ladder. Consequently the dry-cleaning shops ran a service to repair nylons. You were charged at so much an inch according to the width of the run. Assistants used to sit in the shop windows, picking up the stitches with minute crochet hooks. Very labour intensive and very expensive.

At the outbreak of war, wages for the working class were very low. I was considered lucky working for the local government, but my wages were about 拢2 per week. After paying my mother 拢1 for my keep, the 拢1 I had for myself paid for clothes, fares, lunches, any clubs I joined, such as Toc H, night school, visits to the pictures or theatre, and books. There was nothing left at the end of the week, so I could not go and buy clothes before the Purchase Tax went on 鈥� I just managed to buy two woollen jumpers. But do not feel sorry for me. I worked in the Arrears Section of the Estates Department. It was to this department that tenants were summoned if they fell behind with their rent. Persistent offenders could be evicted. Some of the men who came into the office were only earning forty-five shillings per week (拢2.25) and probably had five children to keep. Others were on the dole which was about 拢2, but varied according to how many children you had. I remember my boss, appalled at the income of one man, told him he would be better off on the dole. These were the people to be sorry for.

Just before the war, Birmingham embarked on a great scheme of slum clearance. They pulled down old houses in the inner city and cleared out all the old back-to-back houses. The 鈥榣ucky鈥� householders were moved out to the new council houses in districts such as Pype Hayes, King鈥檚 Standing, Acocks Green and Perry Bar 鈥� a long way from their places of work and with added travelling costs. So a lot of people were starving in their new houses for which they were paying more rent than for the hovels from which they came.

With the coming of war, things changed a lot. Before the war, married women stayed at home with the exception of widows. During the war there was work for everyone. There was a shortage of workers as men joined the Forces. Girls did so too. So, wages went up and married women started taking jobs. Birmingham Corporation faced with the prospect of losing its office workers to better paid jobs, suddenly gave us a big rise. I found I was getting 拢3 a week in my pay packet. However, as soon as you were paid 拢3 a week, you had to pay income tax so that took a bit of gilt off the gingerbread. So poor wages were a thing of the past. People on war work began to earn big money.

Somewhere about 1941, single women aged between twenty-one and twenty-four began to be called up for the Forces. My sister at twenty-one was drafted into the ATS where she served till the end of the war. My brother had been in the army since the summer of 1940. By the time it was my turn to be called up the Forces were full and girls were being directed into munitions factories, hospitals, milk rounds (with horses) and other office jobs. I was lucky to be given a job in the Civil Service 鈥� but it was on War Work. Nearly everyone had other voluntary war work to do 鈥� fire watching, first aid post, air raid warden, home guard, driving ambulances, and so on.

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