大象传媒

I was born on 9th July 1937 and my earliest memory is probably being evacuated to my grandparents' house , from industrial Birmingham to Wolverhampton. I was just over 2 years old. I was an unrecorded evacuee. I was evacuated out of family concern, even though it was only 18 miles away, it was felt to be safer. This allowed my mother to return to emergency nursing in Birmingham. I was at Wolverhampston from late 1939 to Easter 1943, then because the course of the war changed and the threat lessened and my father wanted a proper family life we went back home. The rest of the war for me was school, the blitz, bomb damage and the celebrations in 1945.
I can't remember being frightened in Wolverhampston, with my grandparents Mary and Percy James Tallis, apart from the slow wail of the siren because I knew then something bad was going to happen. My grandmother always insisted the buildings were being purposely demolished for renewal. But I realised this was not the case, because I heard the bombs at night, saw the lighted skies, heard explosions, and ack-ack fire, saw searchlights crossing in the sky, and barrage balloons (although I didn't understand what they were for).
I used to be bundled in an eiderdown and hurried down to the corner of the street and the air raid shelter, which was in a corner of the park. It was an above ground shelter, built up with a solid reinforced concrete roof, blast walls and doors. I would sleep on an iron bed or wooden bunk beds. I might be carried back after 3-4 hours in the dark, then I saw the fires.This was in 1940 and 1941. In November 1940 Birmingham and the Midland cities were heavily bombed. During that time my mother was at a north Birmingham hospital. She had trained as a mental nurse but switched to emergency nursing. She remembered her first casualty - there were four men, an Englishman, an Irishman, a Scotsman and a Welshman. They had been hit by a bomb at the Spitfire Works in Birmingham and were badly burned because of the dope. Three of them died.
My general memories are of nightly raids, and hearing ack-ack fire echoing down the street from window to window. The house did not suffer at all. All the windows were criss-crossed with brown tape. Our blackout curtains were deep red coarse hessian and there was a black roller blind as well. Where there was a chink the Air Raid Warden outside would shout, 'Get that light out!' I didn't understand why. I recall the noise of the fire engines - I thought it was strange that fire engines put fires out, and that they were really water engines. The water came from the local reservoir in the recreation ground, the level would be lowered by the firefighting.
I remember watching and being puzzled when men came with acetylene burners and cut off the railings which stood on the low wall of the front garden and carted them off in a truck.
I remember advertisements because they were pictorial. There was one for aluminium saucepans into Spitfires. These were on the walls and on the (gas)lamp posts. On these were also the dustbin-sized pig bins. They got smelly. I used to put the scraps in. I was told that some of the Irish (IRA?) used to put broken razorblades in the bins. Other images I remember are the Squander bug posters. I was frightened by the image and didn't understand it. Also on the walls were grafitti - images of Chad looking over the wall and 'Wot no food?' 'Wot no cigarettes?'
The only concession to the blackout for me was a nightlight. I never remember being cold, the range was always aglow. We used to sleep in gi-normous feather beds and pillows. Perhaps that's why I was bronchial. My grandmother used to coat my chest with mustard poultices, bandaged on. I remember orange juice, because it had a nice taste, and Colly oil (Cod Liver Oil) because it had a nasty taste, but I would be given a spoonful of malt extract to follow. We had carrots, green cabbage, potatoes, turnips and parnsips from the vegetable garden at the back of the house. We had quite a lot of rabbit pie and I loved that. I remember once we had whale meat and I couldn't decide whether it was more fish or meat, and decided meat. There was never a scrap of food wasted. If I left any dinner it was warmed up for the following breakfast and I liked it even less then. I remember prunes, sageo, semolina, and lots of rice pudding, and suet puddings boiled in a cloth- sweet and savoury. We had Yorkshire pudding except that my grandmother who was from Lincolnshire called it Lincolnshire pudding and we had it with jam, if we could get it.
I started at the local school in September 1942 when I was 5 years old. I was there for two terms. I don't recall any problems or damage to the school. I had a small gas mask but I don't remember going to school with one. Wolverhampton had women trolley bus drivers, in uniform. I used to go to the Gaumont Cinema, now Wilkinsons. I was taken to see 'Snow White and the Seven Dwarves'. To me the Wicked Witch was the most frightening thing about the war. I was also taken to 'Fanny by Gaslight' and 'Gone with the Wind'. Grandfather used to build his own radios and we had a ritual of listening to the voice of Alvar Liddell, giving the news and commentaries. I remember this as being 'important'. I also remember my grandparents laughing at ITMA, and the music of Worker's Playtime. My grandmother used to listen to Woman's Hour or the wartime equivalent in the afternoons. As part of the economy drive the lighting (changed from gas to electricity) was very low, which made things difficult to read. Perhaps the bulbs were low wattage or the power supply was low. I had no playmates until I went to school. I only rarely saw my younger sister Ann Knight, who was living about two miles away with a great aunt. For treats we were taken by more great aunts in my pushchair to feed the ducks in West Park. In that same pushchair I would wait in endless queues outside shops, including Mr Bluett the butcher's. I don't remember the changes of the seasons, but on finer Saturdays I would go with my grandfather following the horse and cart to get manure to put on the rhubarb. I remmember the milk cart with the different churns and measures - people would come out with jugs and there would be a jangle of cans.

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