大象传媒

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This story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War site by Phil Sealey of the Somerset County Museum Team on behalf of Ida Burrough and has been added to the site with her permission. The author fully understands the site鈥檚 terms and conditions

鈥淏orn in 1914 of Somerset farming stock on both sides of my family, I always longed to work in London (about which I knew absolutely nothing) and I achieved my ambition in 1936, working in various City offices, which I loved. This meant a local train journey from the City to the outskirts.
In the early years of the war I remember the rather eerie and strictly blacked out carriages with one feeble light in the middle and the tightly packed passengers struggling to read their newspapers in the gloom.
On one occasion there were four aside, including six City gents, and one middle aged lady sitting in the corner opposite me knitting (perhaps socks for soldiers). Unfortunately, her ball of wool rolled to the floor, and those City gents (very polite in those days) and myself, were scrambling around on the floor in the semi-darkness, attempting to rescue it. The lady also had on her lap a large slippery fish wrapped in newspaper, a real find in those ration book days, and a real treat. Unfortunately, this too rolled off her lap, and what with all of us looking around on the floor for the wool and fish, I cannot remember whether we all finally reached our right destinations or not!
I remember at one point I was staying with my aunt and cousin and when the sirens went we took refuge in the coal hole under the stairs.
My memory of the Underground is of crowded trains, and in the evening adults and children sitting up against the platform walls, armed with their bedding and possessions, for the night. I remember also, standing in the crowded underground trains and reading wonderful little couplets to encourage us in those eventful days. But why can I only remember two of them:
Coughs and sneezes spread diseases 鈥� and
Pass right down the car says Willie (or Billy?)
To block the entrance is silly
And London Transport haven鈥檛 helped me either, nor anyone else!

Spurred on by my younger brother Jack having become a bomber pilot, I joined the WAAF (Women鈥檚 Auxiliary Air Force - no royal 鈥楻鈥� in those days). After joining the WAAF in 1942 I was posted to Hopton in Norfolk, sharing a billet with half a dozen or so other rookie radar operators and a WAAF sergeant who was in charge. We were startled to be shown by the landlady a pile of bricks in the bathroom, and given instructions to open the window on entry and take aim at any rats we saw in the courtyard below. Sadly, I have no success story to relate. Our sergeant was more successful. She discovered a nest of mice under the settee cushions in the sitting room.
Once, after coming home at midnight from late watch, we found bread and obviously nibbled cheese put out for us. The father of one of my three WAAF friends, with whom I have since shared lifelong friendships, was a welfare officer for the Forces in the area [so] our billet was soon closed!
One friend of mine, who had joined up before me, had an amusing story to tell. On the first day of her drill training she had to act as marker on the parade ground. At the shouted command of 鈥榤arker fall in鈥� she rushed to obey, and promptly tripped and fell flat at the sergeant鈥檚 feet. Whereupon, helping her up he said, 鈥� but this so sudden!鈥� You never knew what to expect in the Forces.
A value possession was a set of 鈥榠rons鈥� consisting of a metal knife, fork and spoon. After a meal we washed these in a large trough of tepid water and rinsed in another of similar size. The contents of the two were soon indistinguishable, a murky grey with a rather 鈥榲egetable soup鈥�, appearance. Fortunately, a friend, who had joined the service earlier, had warned me of the dire consequences of losing an 鈥榠ron鈥� in one of the troughs, she did, requiring the entire contents to be emptied to retrieve it, my friend was not popular. So thanks to her I managed to avoid this particular hazard myself.鈥�

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