大象传媒

This story has been added to the People's war website by Marie on behalf of Audrey with her permission. Audrey fully understands the sites terms and conditions.

During the latter part of the War we were living at the Pound Farm, Rayne, in Essex. At the rear of the farm there was a duck pond, on the other side was Pound Cottage - a delightful cottage where Miss Ellis the local school mistress lived with her mother, who was in her 90鈥檚. they were dear ladies and I remember them with great affection - Miss Ellis also taught the children in the Sunday School where they had to learn their Catechism - I volunteered to help her for a time , but I didn鈥檛 know my catechism too well and she was very strict! But she was a staunch, well-respected member of the village community.

Mother and daughter were very alike in appearance and looked a bit like the Cabbage Patch dolls of the 1980鈥檚 - with chubby, puffed-out cheeks, small smiley mouths and twinkly blue eyes. Mrs Ellis was small and frail in stature and always dressed from head to toe in black. She wore long black skirts down to her ankles, and black shiny boots and when she went out she wore a little black hat with a floppy brim, perched on top of her wispy white hair which was most becoming. When the weather was nice, I quite often saw her making her way down to the village shops on the main road, hobbling along with her stick and her basket. I would call out 鈥淕ood morning Mrs Ellis鈥� - she never answered and just went on her way, but I think she knew.

One day on my way to the village I saw ahead of me what looked like someone sitting on the grass verge at the side of the road. As I got nearer I could see it was Mrs Ellis - she was literally sitting in a ditch with both hands resting on her stick in front of her and her basket with purse and ration book besides her on the grass, but with her head held high. I dismounted and laid my bicycle down nearby at the side of the road 鈥淢rs Ellis鈥� I asked 鈥渁re you alright?鈥�
鈥淵es dear鈥� she replied 鈥淚鈥檓 perfectly alright鈥�
But she didn鈥檛 move 鈥渨ell鈥� I said 鈥淐an I do anything to help you? Do you want me to help you up onto your feet?鈥�
鈥淣o dear鈥� she said 鈥淚鈥檒l just stay where I am. It鈥檚 just that the goat has got free鈥�

Oh God no, I thought - Maggie the nanny goat was supposed to be tethered in the field behind her. Fortunately it didn鈥檛 take me long to find Maggie - I discovered that although she was on a chain, a length of rope had been added to give her a wider scope and she had gnawed through this. I soon led her back and tethered her to her post again. But she had horns and everyone in the family had had experience of being butted and sent flying by Maggie - and we all knew better than to turn our backs on her! So I returned to the old lady and with profuse apologies helped her to her feet. She reassured me that she was none the worse for her adventure and she had known that someone would be along to sort out the goat before long.

Not long after the goat incident this remarkable old lady showed us all what amazing courage she had. One morning a stray German bomber on his way home after a raid on London, jettisoned his last bomb at random on the English countryside - it went through the roof of Pound Cottage. There had been no air raid warning and Mrs Ellis was at home alone in the kitchen when she heard an enormous crash from above. She went upstairs to investigate and found the bomb had crashed through the roof and landed on her bed! She was furious, hopping mad so this incredible, frail little old lady got hold of the bomb and managed to lug it off the bed, down the stairs and out through the front door of the cottage. From there she dragged it to the pond and shoved it in!

Word travels fast in a small village and I was working on the farm but returned home for lunch at 12.30pm. I rushed round to see if Mrs Ellis was alright - I could see the bomb in the duckpond. She came to the door when I called out her name - 鈥測es dear I鈥檓 perfectly alright thank you鈥� she said.
鈥淲eren鈥檛 you afraid鈥� I asked 鈥測ou could have been blown up鈥�
鈥淣o dear I wasn鈥檛 worried about me - I鈥檝e had my life, but I鈥檒l be damned if I鈥檓 going to let Hitler blow up my cottage!!

I don鈥檛 remember the bomb ever exploding - I wonder if it鈥檚 still there in the duck pond!

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