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I was 17 years old when the war began, and keen to ‘do my bit’ for the country. When volunteers were called for I joined the ARP in the village of Wordsley, Staffordshire. Whenever the siren sounded, usually after dark I used to report for duty, armed with my gasmask and tin helmet.

My job was varied and busy, I would man the telephones at the ARP post, visit people in the air-raid shelters or make tea or coffee for people out on patrol. I would stay at my post until the ‘all-clear’ sounded, although it was very nerve-racking when we heard the German planes overhead usually en-route for Birmingham or Coventry. One or two dropped quite locally, and my one lasting memory is the bad language some of the personnel used when the planes were overhead or the bombs dropped nearby. I introduced a swear box, which I still have in my possession. Cash collected was handed over to the WVS to benefit the people who were in the shelters nightly. I was proud too of my contribution to the war effort, and still treasure my silver ARP badge.

In 1941 I was required to register for National Service, whereupon I was drafted into the Auxillary Fire Service, and posted to Stourbridge, Worcestershire. I was part of the Finance Department, helping to prepare wages for the local firemen, and paying them out, at that time wages were paid in cash and distributed to all the fire stations in the area. In addition to my clerical duties we were required to man the control rooms, covering the shifts of the regular fire officers.

In about 1943 the National Fire Service was formed and I was then posted to their Head Quarters at Bevere Manor, Worcester, carrying out similar duties. We were billeted in huts in the grounds of the manor house. My wages were £2.7s6d a week, which meant we were better off than many workers. We tried to get back home to Wordsley once a week officially. Transport was very difficult and we couldn’t always afford the fare so we used to hitch hike home, but we agreed, ‘never alone’. In those days we had less to fear than the present time, and we were more trusting than nowadays.

When the blitz was at it’s worst in Birmingham, Coventry and even London the firemen and women were overworked and exhausted, and came to Bevere Manor for a break of rest and relaxation. I made many friends at that time, and that bond of friendship was strong, and my memories of that time are both happy and sad.

I was married in 1944, and was able to join my husband in 1945 when I was expecting our first baby. He was serving in the R.A.F. as an air-gunner on the Lancaster bombers. In February 2004 we had the joy to celebrate our Diamond Wedding Anniversary.

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