大象传媒

This story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War Site Three Counties Action, on behalf of Margaret Chatham, and has been added to the site with her permission. The author fully understands the site鈥檚 terms and conditions.

In 1939 we were living in Birmingham in a suburb called Northfield close to the then Austin Works: next factory was a newly opened Shadow Aircraft Firm where my father was given a job as an aircraft inspector. We had moved there from East Cowes Isle of Wight where they had been making flying boats. Previous to that North Wales had been our Home, my birthplace.

My brother Alfred age 23 and Ian age 18 were in the Volunteer Reserve, Mary a nurse. They all served in the war. Alfred was shot down on 25th June 1941 flying a spitfire. Mary and Ian survived and both emigrated afterwards.

I was 16 at the beginning and being a post office employee was in a reserved occupation. It was a good but busy life often an 11 hour day and as the only one at home very much clung to by possessive parents.

Many a night was spent in an Anderson Shelter in the garden 鈥� cold and damp and noisy as bombs went over Town the nearby Lirkey Hills sheltered the Works, which had been painted to look like a long row of terraced houses.

My sister was a good nurse and I would like to have joined her when I was old enough but Dad vetoed that. My mother was grieving enough.

My brother Ian was in the army. His feet were mother鈥檚 worry 鈥� long and narrow not designed for army boots. Arriving home for a few hours, he was fed and I was the waterer, Margaret set a bowl of water and soak your brother鈥檚 feet, and didn鈥檛 he love it (the old idea of sisters waiting on brothers is no longer in vogue) he would thoroughly enjoy my ministration and say 鈥榥ow go on, dry them with your hair鈥� fortunately not long enough.

All the Queen Alexandra鈥檚 Nurses were offices and if Mary was on leave I sometimes found myself and private or corporal boyfriend dodging her in Town so my escort was not obliged to salute her, however she never could salute properly herself tho鈥� she was an excellent Nurse, both fair-minded and humourous.

Mary and I had a great laugh once when dad was on nights, telling us what a time to had being in charge of the air-raid shelter and trying to keep his female staff on one side and the gentlemen on the other.

A proper Victorian gentlemens idea which naturally they did not fall in with. I always liked to watch our 鈥榩osh鈥� neighbours going into their shelter loaded with their prized possessions. A fur coat as a great luxury and so was a jewellery box. The bossy man in a cow-gown the other side used to wake me up by shouting out to see if I was all right.

However all civilians had an extra duty beside their normal work and mine was fire-watching one night in six at the Post Office where I worked in the centre of Town. We were not far from the main fire station and had to run from our post to alert the firemen to any incendry bombs we spotted. In the gap between finished duty at the post office and starting in our office night room (we had beds) w got to know two 鈥榞entlemen鈥� who were on duty the same time further round the block; sometimes fitted in a walk with them or short visit to the cinema, or occasionally had a hilarious play-reading. Not till it all ended did we find they were married men.

Duty nights I was always the one to wake early and rouse the other two. One morning my watch had stopped and it was very light, so dashing down the iron spiral stairs to look at the big office clock, not having stopped to put my specs on and still wearing a pair of primrose spotted silk pyjamas, courtesy of my friend in the WRNS (who often passed on a nightgown chitty to me) peering at the clock I became aware that the main door was open, customers arriving and also our tall spinster Postmistress.

As she went passed me she just raised her eyebrows and enquired 鈥楢re you on duty Miss Jenks鈥�? Some of the customers never forgot.

When you are young, savour all the best bits of your life and file them in your memory book (if possible discard the troublesome bits) so that when you are old you can think back of good days, people you have loved and all the best funny and happy things. It will help thro鈥� the growing aged and feeling rather useless days.

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