大象传媒

I remember the emotions of the war years: the feeling of depression of my parents and others who remembered the first world war. I remember laughter. I was 18 years old and everything was fun between myself and my friends. Family was a background in my life.
One day the sirens sounded and we all ran to the shelter and I stood crying in the middle of Pelham Street because two young sisters were trying to get their blind mother to hurry along and she was stumbling.
All the close relations gathered at our house. It seemed as though everyone wanted to be together. For several nights we slept four in a bed and on armchairs. Anywhere just so we could be together. This was exciting and a break in the hum drum of every day living.
Gradually the various aunts, uncles and cousins went back home and we once again settled down to a sort of normality. Except for the sadness in our house due to the three youngest children being evacuated.
I worked for my uncle in a small factory. The morning after an air raid, there was no factory. So, I signed on for work. My sister Zena came along with me and we were sent to Hackney Technical College for a crash course in engineering. It was 8 weeks of laughter because there were soldiers there doing the same thing. They used to muster in the college yard before going up to class. You can't believe the things that went on as we used to go up and down the staircase. It was grown-up school. Boys and girls laughing and joking about. During this time we learned to make some tools. I remember Lucy who sat next to me. She lived locally and biked to and from school. One day she was late coming back from lunch and I was looking out of the window to see if she was coming. Sure enough, she was sitting on her bike with one leg on the floor and one in the stirrup. The soldiers were just being mustered ready for entry in the class and she still sat there. Our tutor came in and called us to attention. Eventually Lucy came in and sat down next to me. She was flushed and out of breath. I said: 'Lucy, why were you waiting in the yard instead of coming up to class?' She looked back at me and said: 'I couldn't. My french knickers were caught in the saddle and I couldn't free them until the soldiers had gone!' I nearly exploded with laughter.
The tools we made were a little centre punch, a mini vice, shapes of metal cut to the nth degree. Then the day came when we went off to a proper job. All three of us. We were sent to a foundry, The Aston Construction Company in New North Road, London N1.When we got there, the door was the entry to a house. After being welcomed by a forelady, Miss Gadd, we were ushered into a side door in the offices. There was a long passage, a corridor with offices. We all sat there on long benches. along came, Mr Smith, the manager. 'Well ladies, what can you do?' With pride, we all took out our tools and showed them. I can still see the expression on his face as he covered his smile with his hand. 'Well, Miss Gadd will issue you with your overalls and you can start on Monday at 7.30am'. The issue was a boiler suit and a red scarf.
On Monday morning at 6am Zena and I were doing our hair and make-up, our boiler suits were ironed to perfection. We went to the street door as before and met the other girls, also all freshly made-up and ironed. We followed Miss Gadd through yet another door and there we were in the most amazing place; hundreds and hundreds of square feet open to the skies. No roof. Over on the far side was an office block and in a few places, covered places for overseers to do their work. The rest of the place ran down to the Grand Union canal. It was massive. There were 80 feet and 50 feet girders all over the place. We were astounded. What price our mere 6 inch tools?
We were all allocated places to start work. Zena and I were taken over to some long, long girders and told they were to be painted green. By lunch time, all the men were calling us the Green Sisters. Imagine, 300 men and eleven girls. They were falling about with laughter and a lot of derision. Some girls went into the welding shop, some into the wire bending shop and others as 'mates' to various men on drills. Zena and I kept on painting. By 6 o'clock we were covered in green paint, even our eyelashes and brows were green.
The look on our parents' faces when we got home was one of pure horror. How dare they do this, etc, etc. But we loved it.
After a week were shifted about. Zena went into the wire bending shop. Wire bending was lengths of steel, about half an inch thick, placed on a clamp and then bent by pressure into V shapes.
I was taken into a hut on legs about two feet off the ground. The Crane. there was a little old(to me) man standing in front of housing for three big handles. There were shelves above it, holding cup, saucers, teapot and all the makings for tea and sandwiches. At the side was a small drop-down table. There was just enough room for myself and Bill ( the little old man). Peter, the electrician, introduced us and said 'Bill, this is Lil. Teach her all you know.'
The little hut had glass windows all round and I could see right to the canal. Out of the most important window I could see three massive electric saws that sliced through girders as though they were made of butter. the three men in charge of these saws were Fred, Bert and Syd. They were dependent on a fourth man who was Ted 'the slinger'. His job was to sling massive chains around the girders after they were cut into various lengths. My Bill would then lift them up with our crane and send them down the line on to bogies where they were sent to other places.
After I settled down, Bill said to me 'Well Lil, here we are. these three handles do the work. This first one goes to the left, the middle one goes up and down and the third one goes to the right. OK? Time for a cup of tea.'
By Wednesday, alongside Bill's tea making equipment were nail varnishes, make-up and knitting bag.
On Friday, along came Peter and said: 'Come on Lil show us what you can do'. I was horrified. I couldn't do anything except for a nice row of lace stitch. He then signalled to Ted to sling a moderate sized girder. Right, said Peter, off you go. Now I did know the position of the handles but I hadn't yet touched them. So, I pulled the 'up' lever rather sharply and the girder went into a made dangerous spin in mid air. Peter rescued it and then asked me to take it left, down the bogy. So, I used the other lever and the girder began making a speedy beeline for the office window where it caused minor damage.
Once again Peter brought it back and asked me to do it again very slowly. Once again, up in the air, very slowly with only a small wobble, a small wobble into the little hut which was one of the foreman's offices. Out he stormed with a cut on his forehead shouting 'What the f........is going on here?' After the dust had settled, Peter said 'That wasn't very good was it Lil?' Then he turned to Bill and said: 'Come what may, you are going on the drills next week and Lil will be driving the crane'. And sure enough, it happened. I was a crane driver! I became quite adept at it and the other girls also learned to become welders and drillers. My sister, Zena, became a wire bender. In her shop was Bill Sea Lion because of the noises he could make and Alf Cutbush, who could play Danny boy on his oxyacetyline burner. Practically everyone had some sort of talent and most of them were cockney comics. I myself, was looking forward to my marriage to David Phillips. He was stationed in London so we met often. Consequently, everyone knew him. Came the week-end of the wedding and the girls took me out to lunch and when I got back, the crane was festooned with old boots and ribbons, and every man and woman was wearing a ribbon on their chest. I couldn't believe it. The ribbons, I mean. One of the girls, Elsie, had told her sister about the wedding and, over time, the sister, who worked in a greetings card factory, had liberated ribbons when no one was looking. They were fast becoming obsolete.

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