大象传媒

I was born in June 1936, the eldest of eight children. During most of the war years my mother, three sisters and myself lived in a small house just off Camberwell Green. Although most of my Father's war service was in Egypt and the Middle East, ending up in Italy, he spent short periods at the Royal Artillery Depot in Woolwich. This was memorable because Dad used to bring home his chocolate ration every Friday. I well remember waiting for him as he got off the tram from Woolwich, particularly on Fridays.
My recollections of the bombing are the doodle bugs(V1's), particularly the engine noise. Although we held our breath as they went over we knew that that they had the habit of turning around. We also knew that once the engine cut out we had to hope it was not directly above us. By that time we had to get to the Morrison shelter which doubled as a kitchen table. Mum usually just put her head under the 'table'. Nights were spent in the Anderson shelter which was in the back yard. I remember having cotton wool inserted in our ears to "stop ear-wigs getting in". Years later we found out that the real reason for this was to block out the noise of anti-aircraft fire and falling V1's or V2's. I remember anxiously leaving the shelter each morning to see what damage had been inflicted during the previous night. Many mornings we did not have to walk very far to find out and to see emergency services still at work. Furniture and other belongings were often stacked outside uninhabitable houses waiting to be taken away. Pieces of shrapnel, often still warm, were collected as souveneers.
With my Father anticipating leaving for the Middle East, my Mother was soon to be in the position of having to bring up four children(under age five) by herself. Increased enemy action, with the onset of the V2 rockets, led to evacuation of children from London. My three sisters and myself, along with a cousin, were evacuated to Warrington(Sankey Green) which was then in Lancashire. My eldest sister, Jean, returned home soon afterwards because of acute asthma and eczma. Although I remember very little about leaving London or actually arriving in Warrington I do remember that Mr and Mrs Paine, along with their daughter Alison and son Chris, were kind and made us very welcome. Our cousin stayed with Mr and Mrs Dale at the Sankey Green Post Office. Although it is now more than 60 years since we were evacuated I have never forgotten the Paines' address ie 9 St Barnabus Place. Many happy summer days were spent camping out on the "REC"(recreation ground). For us it was like a day out in the country yet only a few minutes from the centre of town. Warrington, however, will always remind me of Crossfield's Soap Factory, which seemed to dominate the centre. Being not far from Burtonwood USAF Base, we got used to American bombers passing overhead although, initially, my sisters and myself caused amusement in the Paine household. For some time after arriving the sound of these aircraft prompted us to dive under the kitchen table. This was an automatic reaction to aircraft engine noise in London, especially when an air-raid warning siren had sounded. Another memory was of joining other children in pestering USAF men for chewing gum- "Any gum chum?".
We were visited in Warrington by our parents before my Father embarked for the Middle East. This turned out to be a stroke of luck because on that very night our home in London was completely demolished by a V2. Although I cannot remember ever discussing the aftermath of that event with my parents and the fact that we lost everything, I well remember an occurrence 30 years later. We took my Mother to a pub close to the site of our demolished home. Suddenly Mum's face went red and she mumbled "That's Bill Hawtin over there". Bill Hawtin had been an Air Raid Warden who, along with colleagues, spent hours searching amongst rubble for the family on the night the V2 fell. He strode across and without hesitation said- "Elsie Peabody- if you go away without telling us again you will be in serious trouble". After all those years no further explanation was needed. The site is now occupied by Camberwell Green Magistrates Court. My current magistrate neighbour, who sits there, tells me that this is the busiest Court in the Country. After my Mother died I inherited items of furniture which serve as a reminder of the event ie two "utility" chairs, one of which I am now seated on.
After his demob my father returned to his pre-war market stall at Camberwell Green which was unfortunate for me. This was a grocery shop on wheels, including goods which were still to be rationed for years after the end of the war. A covered stall plus a barrow with flat board which had been inherited from his mother. Her shop,which had been used for storage,had been destroyed by the same V2 that had demolished our home. Two of the three rented terraced council houses in D'Eynsford Road,we moved into at various times over the following 16 years,had to take it's place. How they escaped the knowledge of the council housing department for so long I've never worked out. Especially as one of them escaped bomb damage repairs which resulted in a near ceiling collapse in one of the rooms. That same house had most of the back yard taken up by a prefabricated wooden storage room. However, each day the stall and barrow were loaded up and pushed/pulled to the market,in nearly all weathers,where they were unloaded and set up. At the end of each day the reverse. On very rare occasions this did not happen if heavy snow and icy conditions made it impossible to move. The fingers on my Father's leather-like hands seemed to be continually cracked open, like little mouths, especially during the winter months. My attendance at Wilsons Grammar School was often part of a 12-hour working day, 6 days a week. Somehow though, I managed a GCE 'O' level pass in Art by the time I left at 16. After 40 years of Father vowing he would never work for a boss, it happened due to financial difficulties. One of the regular chats he had with one of the Cater Brothers(London Grocers), when visiting the Camberwell branch, led to a job at their Peckham Arcade one. After a few months though he contracted pneumonia and died, aged 56. One of the abiding memories I have of the 9 years I spent on the stall was the extreme cold during those late 1940's, early 1950's winters. I remember one winter when continuous below freezing temperatures meant our only toilet(outside) was frozen up for over a month. Kettles of boiling water ensured Mum,Dad and eight children had that facility. I actually applied for early call-up for National Service to make a break. The War Office's successor agreed to my request by means of an an acknowledgement card, handed to my Father by the postman. Apart from 6 war years, Dad had gone through 40 years of those conditions only to be finished off after making a move to an inside job. Maybe, it was just that he could not bear "working for a boss".

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