大象传媒

These memoirs were written at the beginning of the nineties by my mother Joan Jarvis who lived together with my father in Edmonton, London, during the war.

Sylvia Carmio-Jarvis

Aspects of Life in London during Wartime
1939 - 1945

Joan Elisabeth Jarvis, n茅e Woodhouse
1915 - 2000

1938: THE CRISIS YEAR

In those days it was essential to work hard and save hard enough to get married in order to set up our future home. We had both agreed on buying our own house, and before three years had elapsed we chose our Wedding Day to be on 18th December 1938..... What a wonderful life was ours.

Such a happy time was occasionally interrupted by rumours of troubled times in Europe and by the summer of 1939 we knew that war was inevitable and life as we knew it then was forever shattered. Gone was the carefree happiness and before many days had passed, after the declaration of war with Germany, we were preparing for the probable bombing of our home and city.

BLACK-OUT

I remember that the immediate duty for all was to find adequate material to cover every window in the house, so that not one little chink of light showed at night. Of course, the drapery shops did a marvellous trade, all black or dark material was sold out immediately, and at inflated prices!

The men made frames of thin wood to fit the windows and nailed thick black cardboard on to these frames. We found that generally this suited the purpose better, as they could be taken down during the daylight hours and afterwards, when almost all window glass was shattered by bomb blasts, these had to be left in place day and night! So when the weather was too cold or wet during the day we had to leave them there and have dim 'fuel economy' electric light bulbs to lighten the daylight hours. This had to be used in every room.

Street doors were a menace and a heavy blanket would be hung just inside the door to block out any light that shone from the house when entering or leaving. No street lamps were lit, causing great shortage of torch batteries. So we baked the old ones in the oven to try and get a few more glimmers of light.

Shops were having the same restrictions. They closed as early as possible before darkness fell, their windows boarded up, as the danger of flying glass was a great hazard. Generally, as time went by, no one went out at night, and all who were out or working, hurried home before the 'Blackout' when darkness fell.

AIR RAID PRECAUTIONS

As my husband Leslie was doing important work for the Air Ministry 鈥� making instruments for RAF 鈥� he had to stay in his occupation.

Everything was speedily organised by the Government, although 6 months before the declaration we had both already enrolled as Air Raid Wardens (A.R.P). We went to classes regularly to learn as much as we could about enemy warfare on the Home Front, including recognition of Enemy Warplanes, and identifying various gasses, such as Mustard, Lewisite and other deadly types. As it happened we were very lucky as they were not used on the population. It seemed the Government expected gas attacks from the enemy; thank goodness these never happened.

However, we were taught to extinguish cluster bombs of incendiaries, which were a great danger to factories and homes alike, penetrating roofs and causing large fires. They had to be extinguished immediately on impact in order to save the building and as water would not be available. We were taught to be equipped with pails of water and a Stirrup pump to spray on the cylinder and render it harmless. As far as I can remember these were the main cause of the fire in the city of London.

We learnt how to deal with the small emergencies. The men and women working in the factories had to take turns fire-watching on the roofs of buildings to warn workers to take shelter, as the factories could not stop working during the raids and probably spend many hours under cover. Most factories worked 24 hours of the day during this time.

Every time the air raid warning sounded we donned our tin hats and went out on the streets to hurry people to the shelters, checked to see no lights were showing and if, unfortunately, a building was hit, check to see if, and how many, people were alive, injured or in shock, and get the ambulance and casualty service to dig for survivors.

The warden's job was to be the first on the scene, to report back to the fire and emergency services where to go to attend to the latest incident. One of our jobs was to check any of the blasted houses for survivors. We had a list of everyone in our sector, how many members of each household and where other relatives lived, in case of emergency.

TAKING SHELTER

The whole town was divided into sectors and the Warden Service (later called the Civil Defence) was responsible for everybody's welfare in the neighbourhood. This went on throughout the war and during this time we were divided into rotas to enable us a chance of a few hours' rest.

This was a good idea, but sleep was hard to come by when probably the warning sounded about 2 a.m. lasting for perhaps an hour, and then again at 4 a.m. until dawn. During the first year, having no shelter, we dozed as much as possible in the cupboard under the stairs, furnished with a cushion and a couple of blankets, a supply of water, a torch, some biscuits and a small bag containing any important papers we felt might be necessary and never forgetting our gas masks (thankfully never needed).

Many a time the Luftwaffe came overhead and dropped a stick of six bombs. We counted slowly, a whistle and crump as each one fell, far off, then nearer and nearer. One fell about ten houses away, shaking the ground. Any glass that had been left was shattered, tiles off our roof and ceilings down, dust and dirt everywhere, then the thankful realisation that the fifth and the sixth bomb had fallen in the distance.

Struggling out, tin hats on as a precaution against falling shrapnel from our own anti-aircraft guns and running down the street to report to the Warden's Post. Fortunately the people in the bombed house were uninjured, except for a few scratches and suffering from shock. They owed their lives to their 'Morrison' shelter, a table-like construction of steel, which they sheltered under in their 'once upright' living room, which was now a mass of bricks and rubble.

Afterwards, when raids became very frequent, we all used our 'Anderson' shelters at the bottom of the garden for our nights 'off duty'. And my husband and others like him were back at their jobs every morning by 7.30 a.m., not returning until 6 p.m. for a quick meal. The bombing raids started every night at 6.30 without fail, for many months lasting until dawn, when the sirens sounded the 'all clear'.

QUEUES

As far as I can remember, food rationing started in October 1939. Everyone had to have a ration book. The first thing was to queue at the Town Hall to be registered. The queues were so long, it took many hours before you were attended to. Then each member of the family received a ration book filled with coupons. You also had an Identity Card; my number was DBEW 187/4. I can still remember it today, nearly fifty years later. Wherever you went you had to take your Identity Card and your ration book with you.

It was quite an important decision as to which butcher, grocer, milkman you would register with, depending whether you liked their shop or not. Suddenly, overnight, the shop windows would be empty. The butcher's windows were tastefully decorated with empty white enamel trays with paper parsley round the edges; perhaps there may be one tray of small chops or a little stewing beef.

'Under the counter' was a well-worn phrase and sometimes you would be allowed with your 1/-s worth of meat for the week (two sausages or 1/4lb. liver from under the counter) and only if you were registered with the shop, also 2d. of corned beef per person (about 2 oz.). Sometimes the meat was very scarce so you may come away with 8d. meat and 6d. corned beef.

With two ration books we managed reasonably well: lots of potatoes and wonderful recipes of bone soup and vegetables, carrot pie and other vegetarian dishes. Of course, what fish was available was not rationed, although the fishmonger rationed it out himself to the long queues that waited so patiently for perhaps two herrings or a pound of sprats.

Sometimes the fish shop didn't open at all. After all, the Merchant Navy was needed for many other things. Girls were told not to buy American cosmetics or nylons, something very new, or anything that might endanger seamen's lives. So, of course, we made do without the little luxuries.

Groceries were strictly rationed, and as usual, anything like custard powder, dried fruit, etc., was kept 'under the counter' for 'special customers', a term which angered many women and often caused harsh words to the assistant. Sometimes extra sugar was allowed in the jam making season, but your book was stamped so that you didn't get it twice.

As far as I can remember we were allowed 4oz. sugar, 2oz. tea, 1陆 oz. cheese, 2oz. bacon, 2oz. butter, 4oz. margarine for the week and one third of a pint of milk per day. Sometimes these rations were lowered according to the state of the Food Ministry, and very rarely were these amounts increased. Bread and flour were not rationed except for a very short period. Queues were very long for bread 鈥� I think perhaps this is why my feet are not my best point!

We were allowed 1 egg per week 鈥� and here a mention of dried eggs. These were sold on ration for the various times when fresh eggs were unavailable, sometimes due to food production problems. We would use it in omelette or cake making. It wasn't very palatable, but it was a source of protein which was necessary in our low diet. Sometimes you just mixed the powder with a little water and fried it.

No vitamin tablets were available, but expectant mothers and invalids were allowed cod liver oil capsules and orange juice on the production of a special green ration book. To allow a little luxury into our lives, we received a sweet ration of 2oz. per week, and often we saved as much as we could for Christmas.

OUTINGS

I cannot write about excursions and outings during the war years - there weren't any. We did go to the West End again occasionally, but always during daytime, as London in the Black-out was empty. No theatres opened, except the famous "Windmill" - whose motto was 'We never close' - and a few cinemas. But as soon as the sirens went we had to go into the shelters. So gradually nightlife in the City stopped.

However, my husband, who was initiated into Freemasonry in November 1940, would attend afternoon meetings regularly at Freemason's Hall, West London, and each year I would attend the special Ladies' Night with him. This was a very grand occasion, although being wartime. No evening dress was worn. And despite austerity being the rule, the ladies had a wonderful evening. Always a good dance band, and the best dinner rationing would allow. And always a delightful present at our place settings. It was a fascinating way of life that very few people were able to enjoy.

LITTLE EXTRAS

To make life a little easier we bought six 'White Sussex' laying hens and made a little coop and run for them in the back garden. What a wonder it was. We kept successive hens for some years and the delight of collecting perhaps three or four warm brown eggs per day made all the difference to our plain menu.

Also our neighbours were very friendly to us. I wonder why! Lots of them brought potato peelings and bits of bread which I cooked into a revolting mass and mixed it with a sort of bran (this was also rationed) and this was devoured with relish by the chicks, and so my friends were often rewarded with an egg or two, and to anyone who had been ill. To take a 陆 dozen eggs to someone in hospital was a great treat to the patient. A thing one would never think of these days!

Everyone 'Dug for Victory' and to have a lawn and flower beds was a disgrace and unthinkable. We grew everything in our little gardens from potatoes, onions, carrots, turnips, parsnips, beans and peas. Sometimes we didn't get a good crop, but we ate every tiny bit!

Vegetable marrows were wonderful and a favourite recipe for the men was to cut one end, scoop out the middle of the marrow, fill it with sugar (black if obtainable), bore a hole in the bottom end, hang it up for weeks, letting the liquid drip into a jar. Some reckoned it was as good as brandy, but I never knew. I didn't try it!

There were other reasons for queues. Anything you ever wanted as the war progressed became very scarce and unobtainable: oranges, lemons, bananas, rosy apples, etc. Word soon went round that someone had seen an orange crate at the greengrocer's and before he opened his door long queues formed and waited. Sometimes we were lucky, but sometimes the poor man hadn't any oranges at all. It was a false alarm. The housewives often didn't believe him, and many a curse was rained on the poor fellow's head!

As the war progressed all shops became emptier, but sometimes word got around that a saucepan could be bought at one shop, or a frying pan in another, maybe some stockings or a towel and everyone who could would join one queue after anot-her.

BATTLE OF BRITAIN

Unfortunately a daylight air raid would interrupt and only the brave would still stand in the line. But as these sales became an important event very few left the queues to go to the shelters, but when the daylight raids intensified it was imperative to take shelter.

So when the siren sounded the streets were empty, as in 1940 the bombing began in earnest. Waves of bombers started a campaign of day and night raids after the fall of Dunkirk.

This was the time of the Battle of Britain, and we all realised that London was suffering severe damage, but no news was released until much later and on 15th September 1940 we heard of the Battle of Britain where the Royal Air Force did everything in their power to stop the Luftwaffe blowing London off the face of the earth.

Afterwards we heard the figures. German aeroplanes destroyed: 1733. RAF losses: 915. What a lot we owed to the RAF which gave such a victory for Britain; but such a waste of young lives. Despite this many cities were heavily bombed.

RAIDS AROUND THE CLOCK

At the end of 1940 we were having long raids, day and night, the raid alarms going constantly. Local factories were hit and many civilians killed and injured. The news that maybe it was where your neighbours worked or even your husband, filtered through. Everything was top secret. No phone messages were allowed. You just had to wait and pray until your dear ones returned. This was very hard.

Somehow life went on and it all became normal everyday life. I remember particularly, about 29 December 1940, a very heavy raid in the city. The sky lit up by flames and the noise was very heavy although distant (about 12 miles away) and always a bad sign. There were no buses running to Liverpool Street Station. I noticed along the kerb of the main road piles of black burnt out paper were blowing along with the wind. This was the aftermath of the burning of the City of London where acres of buildings were reduced to heaps of rubble.

V-1's AND V-2's

Until D-Day (6th June 1944) we, the people of London and other great cities, suffered much damage by flying bombs, 'doodle bugs' (V-1's). These were robot planes, catapulted from France. These planes would be heard from a distance and then silenced as the engines shut off. Then the tremendous crash as the bombloads they were carrying hit the ground or buildings, often killing many people. Our anti-aircraft guns and the barrage balloons were the only means of defence, as our fighter aircraft could not always get them, due to the surprise effect. The first V-1鈥檚 fell on England on 12th June 1944.

Three months later, in September 1944, the V-2's came 鈥� rocket missiles. A much more devastating weapon, launched from occupied France by the German enemy. These dropped all over London and other places, causing terrible destruction. They were all the more frightening because there could be no warning, and in your heart you knew that at one moment you could be alive 鈥� and the next, dead.

People would continue to sleep in the shelters at night and carry on at work the next day, if they were lucky! I know of a place in Stoke Newington, London, where a long row of shops were devastated. It had a public shelter in the cellars, filled with more than a hundred people, killed. No one could reach them and it is now filled in, as a memorial.

All these events hastened D-Day, as such tragedies could not continue. And so our troops had to drive the enemy back through France and the V-1 and V-2's launching pads were destroyed.

SHELTER LIFE

From the late summer of 1940 until the end of the war in 1945 most nights were spent in air raid shelters by the people of London. By day work was resumed, but by darkness you were back in the shelters unless you were on duty in the streets. Every evening, without fail, the sirens would sound the alarm, at about 6 p.m. All gas and electricity in the home was swit-ched off in case of fire. Incendiary bombs were one of the hazards and the garden air raid shelter came to be a second home.

To heat food or make tea most people had a small paraffin stove in the garden air raid shelter, which was also a help to keep warm. A lot of our social life was there. Sometimes neighbours would come and play cards or talk. They would bring their dogs on leads and cats in boxes, or we would go to a neighbour's shelter and do the same.

I remember particularly how, in the early hours during quite a heavy raid, a neighbour came to us in his dressing gown with his wife. We were all good friends. He said to me, hugging his body: "My tummy is playing me up. Something terrible. Just listen." A sound of rumbling caught my ears 鈥� then laughing. He held up a rubber hot water bottle that was tucked into his coat. Meanwhile the 'flack' was falling everywhere outside the shelter. We just didn't take any notice of that! Strange how one got used to everything!

A strange world was that shelter. Built of heavy corrugated iron, sunk into the earth about two feet, and about three feet above ground, covered with as much earth as you could find, it measured 6陆' x 5' approximately, enough for two people to lay in or six people to sit in. It was a haven, a place of refuge and a home, and many owed their lives to their 'dug out'. One felt a strange and welcome feeling of safety in it and never thought too much of the possibility of a direct hit!

The winters were very bad in these shelters as there was no heating when it was cold and icy. But the wet weather seemed to be worse as blankets and clothes had to be dried because of condensation and dampness every day. The shelters had two narrow bunks, two feet wide and about 6 feet long. These were made of two lengths of wood with wires stretched across, on which we sat or rested. Sometimes water dripped through from the earth above and found its way through the joints of the galvanised iron sheets, so we had to plug the seams with lots of rag.

We had a small box in the centre which acted as a table in which was stored candles, mugs, a tin box holding matches, bottles of water, tea, etc., and an emergency kit containing first aid equipment. Usually the 'All Clear' sounded at dawn and we all went back to our houses to get ready for another day, always thankful that we were still alive!

About this time Britain launched the 1000 bomber raids on important targets in Germany. At night we heard and saw waves of British and American bombers flying overhead towards Germany. The air was heavy with the sound. At dawn the next day we stood at the door watching the sky as the squadrons returned, not always in formation as they went out, but with gaps in their numbers. We could distinguish those with only one engine limping home.

A popular song of the time immortalised this event:: 鈥楥oming home on a wing and a prayer.鈥� How sad we felt for those that were missing and what a tragedy it all was.

UNDERGROUND

Everyone lived under shelter, but in the inner city people slept in the Underground, taking their bundles every night to their allocated bunks set up on the platforms. I think Bethnal Green had the deepest underground platform.

There were generally some who chose the deepest stations because they felt they would be safer in these shelters. The people after a time all became good friends and held small concerts to make a little entertainment, also to keep their thoughts from wondering if their home would still be intact when they returned after the 'All Clear' was sounded.

Nobody minded how you were dressed. That was the time when the 'Siren Suit' became the fashion, being very suitable for being awake-ned suddenly at night. This was a one piece suit with a zip all the way down the front, made of blanket material. Everyone made or bought one, so besides providing warmth, it covered up your nightwear in a few minutes! It became the uniform of the 'Home Front' as civilians were named, and was immortalised by Winston Churchill, who was never seen without one in those times.

FEELING OF UNITY

Never before and never since have I ever experienced the unity that 鈥榗risis鈥� brings. All the people one met 鈥� neighbours from one end of the road to the other (there were nearly 200 houses in our street), were united in helping each other. Other streets were the same. We began to know each other by our Christian names and many lifelong friendships were made as a result.

Of course, over the years people died or moved away which caused the breaking of some of these friendships, but they were never forgotten. The common bond of survival drew us all close together and we looked forward to the future with a great deal of faith and hope and longed for the day when the war would be over.

VICTORY

And then at last, after five years of sleeping in shelters, on May 8th 1945 came Peace, and war in Europe was ended.

One thing we were all specially thankful for must be noted. Before war was declared all the Civil Defence were taught what to do in the event of a gas attack 鈥� how to recognise and distinguish between Lewisite, Phosgene and Mustard gases and the importance of the correct wearing of masks and hand pumping for baby protection masks. All horrific, but thankfully never needed.

HAPPINESS AT LAST

When it was announced that peace in Europe was to be declared, my husband and I made our way by bus to Trafalgar Square. The buses and other transport made very slow progress due to the crowds of people singing and dancing in the streets. The feeling of great celebration overflowed everywhere. Street traders and peddlers of all kinds were selling balloons, whistles, flags, streamers, ice cream, fruit and drinks at highly inflated prices - they must have been hoarding their Victory wares for years. But what a day it was. The bus jolted along as far as Shaftesbury Avenue and couldn't get any farther because of the crowds, so we all got off and walked.

I think the most astounding thing was the sheer noise of it all that hit my ears. Everyone was singing, shouting and laughing. Many groups of Londoners were dancing. 'Knees up Mother Brown', 'The Lambeth Walk' and all the Vera Lynn songs were their favourites! It was the most enduring memory and I can see it now how London went mad that wonderful day.

Thousands of us squashed together around Nelson's Column to listen to Winston Churchill's famous Victory Speech from huge microphone loudspeakers that had been specially erected. I was also amused by a couple of sailors sitting on the top of lampposts and I couldn't say how many sat in and by the fountains. Those were hidden by the multitudes, even the pigeons were unable to be seen!

In the weeks that followed everyone celebrated with street parties for the children, many of whom were returning home after being evacuated to the quiet country villages during the war years and were now reunited with their families. Everyone rejoiced, although it took a long time to resume the old way of life, but at least there were no more black-outs. The lights blazed everywhere. Surprisingly, however, bread rationing started in July 1945, so we were not out of the woods yet!

But what a thankful people we were. I know that so many people suffered so much and some lost their lives. By comparison our years during the war were nothing but we all felt it was the greatest miracle to be alive at all and how precious that knowledge was and still is today.

THANKFULNESS

When I look back at those times, more than 40 years ago, I realise what a wonderful thing memory is, as once again my heart rejoices that we were so lucky to be alive to experience such gladness. But I also feel the sadness for those who were unlucky and those brave hearts that didn't make it after all. We owe them all so much.

J. E. Jarvis Defence medal

The Symbol 鈥� Green fields of Britain. Fire over London.

A FOOTNOTE TO MY TESTIMONY OF LIFE IN WARTIME BRITAIN

It is now fifty years since the Second World War, and remembering those years from 1939 鈥� 1945, I can never recall of hearing anyone (especially those whose homes were ruined, the death of loved ones and lives totally disrupted) ever losing their resolve to carry on with the fight against Hitler and his mob, whether after the fiercest bombing and attack, or defeats on land, sea or air.

We all grumbled and complained at various incidents 鈥� but never contemplated capitulation with the enemy. It was unthinkable and unspeakable that they would ever dominate us all. We were very fortunate that we had a leader such as Churchill with his indomitable will, and his words: 鈥淲e shall fight them on the beaches, etc.鈥� This was echoed in all our hearts. The continual bombing of London, Coventry, Plymouth, Southampton and all the Channel ports and cities, only increased our resolve to carry on!

Fortunately Britain as an island protected us from being overrun by the enemy, and we all owe a deep sense of gratitude to all our men and women who gave their lives on land, sea and air, and those of the resistance in Holland and France, and honour their names.

Even now, 50 year on, I would still do my best to fight for the right against occupation by the enemy, and this feeling comes from somewhere deep down in my consciousness, maybe the way my forebears felt centuries ago.

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