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Our Dad always did what he could, and one day, I think it was late in 1940, he said "I’m going to get some hens". "Okay Dad" I said I’ll make a pen. I got some old packing cases from the salvage department at Fort Dunlop, for a few shillings and made a pen and run. On completion me and our Dad went to the Bull Ring Market, and bought six hens. They soon got used to the pen, and within a few days our first eggs were laid. As we had hens we were allowed to purchase chicken meal, which our Mom mixed with old scraps and boiled potato peelings. The hens loved it, and to supplement their food we used to let them out into the garden. The supply of eggs increased, and from these six hens we used to average at least 2 dozen per week.

As time went on further hens were bought, and our average number then increased to ten from which we averaged 5 dozen eggs per week. I was in personal charge of the hens, and I made sure that as some got older, new ones were introduced. In one batch of new ones we had six Rhode Island Red chickens, five were hens and one cockerel. This cockerel grew and grew, and indeed it used to keep all its family of hens in order, and they always looked very contented. He was so jealous of his family that the only two people who could get anywhere near them was me and our Mom, sisters Joan, Ellen and Amy could not go in the garden unless they had a broom or stick to protect themselves.

Ellen and Amy bore the brunt of his attacks. It used to cause great amusement. The older hens ones after their laying days ceased, gave our Mom the wonderful opportunity for making chicken stew.

Not content with hen eggs our Dad suddenly decided he would like us to have some duck eggs, as these were supposed to be full of vitamins. He came home one Sunday after his regular weekly visit to the "Forget-me-not" Club, with a cardboard box in which were six Khaki Campbell day-old Ducklings. These are for our duck eggs he said. They were looked after very well, and as the months rolled by, they got bigger and bigger, with our Dad sang, "should be some eggs soon".

Oh, what a shock was in store for him, one of his friends came round to see him, and after seeing the six lovely ducks, as our Dad called them, he said "you ain't expecting any eggs off them are you Harry (our Dad), they're all 'bleedin' drakes". One by one they each in turn contributed to our Moms lovely beautiful roast duck dinner, followed a few days later with duck stew made from the bones. Trying to feed their families was very difficult for the mothers of Birches Green, but in some way it brought them all much closer together. Certain items of food became available on occasions, if you were in the right place at the right time, and it became more or less a duty for mothers to inform each other when they did become available.

It was a regular occurrence for our Mom to rush to the local greengrocer (Turners), after the word had been spread around that they had some tomatoes, or indeed fruit or other vegetables in short or scarce supply. Long queues were commonplace, but mothers did not seem to mind, it gave them the chance to talk to each other about their families.

1940-1941 saw our family following the general pattern of all others. Harry had his medical, and went before a selection board in early 1940 and because of his qualified skill as a fitter with the L.M.S Railway, the panel suggested he should join the Royal Navy as an Engine Room Artificer. Shortly afterwards his calling up papers arrived, but as his work was considered to be a reserved occupation, he did not have to go.

Ellen and Amy were evacuated to private homes in Ashby-De-La-Zouche, despite our Dads protestations, that he wanted our family to remain together. However, their stay was only for a short period, they got so homesick that they had to come home. Joan was still doing what she could at work and helping our Mom at home, but she was always wishing she could join the Forces. I myself carried on my A.T.C Training, and also during this period I joined the Dunlop Fire Brigade Section of the National Fire Service.

Mrs. Griffiths our next door neighbour at No.27, lost her Son-in-law, killed in action (he was a Spitfire pilot). Mrs. Fletcher’s son came home wounded from Dunkirk, and Bob my Brother-in-law, husband of my eldest sister Lil, also came home from Dunkirk, only to be sent abroad with the 8th Army again after his leave. Lil lived in the neighbouring estate of Pype Hayes with her young son.

The testing of Spitfires by Alec Henshaw and his team of pilots over the estate was to me a joy to watch, climbing, diving, looping, rolling, every possible aerobatic was performed, one thing was certain, every Spitfire handed over to the R.A.F was in perfect condition. This also highlighted the skills of workers at the Castle Bromwich Aircraft Factory. 1940-1941 certainly proved to be very harrowing and eventful years.

1942 opened up, in similar pattern, but the use of further aids to protect factories did cause added problems and discomfort to local residents. Smoke screens were the worst. These were similar to dustbins, but with a chimney instead of a lid, each one was filled with diesel type oil. They were placed on pavements throughout the estate, and dependant on wind direction, they were set alight by soldiers, and within a short space of time thick black smoke came belching out of each one. A pall of smoke soon covered the area.

In addition mobile screens mounted on army lorries were also introduced, and when these were set alight, I should say the amount of smoke from each one, must have been a least fifty times more than the single screens. No doubt it did block out the factories from aerial view, but after their use, everyone had sore eyes, coughs, everything in the houses smelled of oil, and the clothes you wore stank for days afterwards. We hated this method of protection, probably because it was self imposed, and caused such distress. However, if it did help to detract bombers from their targets, then it served its purpose. I personally thought it didn't make any difference, smoke screens or not, bombs still continued to drop on Birches Green.

A balloon barrage operated from a unit sited in Rookery Park "we used to call our own" got struck by lightning and set on fire. The unit crew tried frantically to winch it in to prevent this huge ball of fire falling onto our houses. This they did quite successfully but it was quite frightening to see this ball of flame swishing to and fro across the estate.

During one raid before the introduction of smoke screens it was a clear full moon night. Suddenly a bomber appeared in full view directly passing under the moon. Within seconds is seemed as though every" Ack Ack" gun in Birmingham opened up. We could actually see shells exploding around the plane, firstly by red dots of fire followed by puffs of smoke. For sometime afterwards shrapnel from shells fell onto houses and into gardens. I do not know what happened to the bomber, but if it was not brought down, the intense barrage must have put "the fear of God" up the crew.

Our hens (kept fit by Karswood Poultry Spice) continued to do there bit for the war effort with a constant supply of eggs. Our Mom used to give our neighbours (Rose Griffiths and Elsie Roberts) the occasional one or two, and our record supply in one week was sixty two. We did eventually get some duck eggs.

Our neighbour, a Mr. Cope at No.17, had a solitary Khaki Campbell duck. I felt really sorry for this duck it looked half starved and scruffy. He offered it to our Dad for a couple of bob, and then it was left to me to look after it. Our duck soon got to look nice and healthy, and was laying an average of four eggs per week. The awkward part though was she kept laying some of them under a bush in Mrs. Griffiths garden. We sorted this out by occasionally giving Mrs. Griffiths one or two of them. The family took it in turns to have a duck egg (for extra vitamins) to keep our Dad happy.

Our Joan volunteered for the Women’s Royal Air Force and in August I was told to report for my medical and appear before a selection board. I passed the medical AI, and was asked by the selection board which one of the Armed Forces I preferred. My answer the Royal Navy surprised them especially after my A. T.C. training, but that was the service I chose. My A. T.C mates asked why. but to me the Battle of Britain had been won and my enthusiasm to be a pilot had waned, and after seeing the Navy in action on Newsreels I decided this was the service for me.

I just wanted to help to end the war, and as the war was spread throughout the World the Navy seemed to be the obvious service.

Entertainment for the Estate centred on the local Cinema (The Apollo), it never closed and did matinees on Saturdays for the younger children. A large number of evening performances were disrupted by sirens and explosions of bombs, but the performance carried on and across the screens was flashed "There is an air raid in progress, if anyone wishes to leave-:please do so as quietly as possible". not many people took advantage of this request.

The nearest the Apollo got I. to being hit was when the "Constructors Factory" opposite the Norton Pub was set on fire. This was some fifty yards from the Cinema. People’s attitude at this stage in the war was "If a bomb has got your name on it you'll get wherever you are".

1943 started with the war being spread throughout the world. Air Raids seemed to be easing off, with more of the menfolk being called up. The Yanks were more in evidence with everyone of them seeming to have a "Jeep" of their own. The kids were constantly chewing gum given to .them by the Yanks after their requests of "Got any gum chum". Tinned meats such as "Spam", "Mor", "Tang", to name but a few became more plentiful, easing some of the food problems of Mothers. Dried Eggs also helped. The Estate population had reduced to being just Moms, Dads, Daughters and Young Children.

During this period hardly a house on the Estate escaped damage of some sort, Complete Destruction — Heavy Structural Damage - Minor Structural Damage, (Tiles off Roofs), (Broken Windows), (Collapsed Ceilings), (Fire Damage), (Water Damage), (Burst Pipes) and (Shrapnel Damage). If medals were given for Courage and Resilience, then each and everyone on the Estate deserved a sack full.

This is as it was. Of the original intake of pupils at Birches Green School in 1930, at least 80% of boys had either volunteered or had been conscripted to the Armed Forces, and at least 20% of the girls had volunteered for the Womens’ Services, Nursing, Land Army, or other Civil Defense duties. Others worked in the local factories: Dunlop, Castle Bromwich Aircraft Factory, Schraders, Valor, A.M.A.C being the main ones.

To me these three years showed that whatever the adversity, community spirit, with the urge to help each other overcame any problems that arose. No one wanted the War but in some ways for all that happened, it made each and everyone more aware of the need for compassion and understanding. I was glad to have spent these three years within my family circle and amongst neighbours and friends.

My eighteenth birthday was on March 11th and shortly afterwards I had my calling up papers for the Royal Navy. Except for a few days leave, and embarkation leave that was the last I saw of Birches Green until the end of my Demob leave in November 1946. However that is another story.

This story was submitted to the People’s War site by Anastasia Travers from WM CSV Action Desk on behalf of Fred Overton and has been added to the site with his permission. Fred Overton fully understands the sites terms and conditions.

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