大象传媒

This story was submitted to the People's War website by Jean Robertson nee Adams Heath Library member and has been added to the site with her permission. The author fully understands the sites terms and conditions.

In 1939 when war broke out I was aged nearly 8 (I was born in November 1931). My parents and my brother Michael (then aged 10) and I were on holiday in Bexhill-on-Sea at the time. My mother had an aunt who ran a small boarding house there, and we would go for a week in early autumn, when she was not so busy and could offer us a special reduced rate for our stay.
We came home at once, and I remember how my mother and father had to pin up black-out curtains on all the windows at once. There was tension in the air, fear, yet for my brother and I a certain excitement born of ignorance of what war really meant.
We queued up in the coming days in the Church Hall for our gas masks, which smelt horrible, and which we had to carry about in a brown cardboard box. If we went to school without the mask, we were called to the headmaster鈥檚 office and told not to repeat the offence.
We also had identity cards during the war, which had to be carried at all times. If I remember correctly, they were grey with red lettering.
The war meant changes in our family circumstances. My parents were of the generation to leave school aged 12 or 13 鈥� there was no privileged grammar school education such as my brother and I enjoyed, winning scholarships. My father was an only child, and an Under Gardener at Kings Beeches, a large house in Ascot, opened to the public for charity once a year. He enjoyed his work but was, of course, poorly paid. My mother had been a children鈥檚 nanny before her marriage, living in with the family. She did odd jobs, house cleaning mostly. We lived in a flat attached to the Church Hall, of which my parents were caretakers.
My father had for some years been a Special Constable for the police 鈥� he wanted to join the police as a young man but was refused because his height was not quite up to the required minimum. Now his superior officer suggested to him he should become what was called a 鈥淲ar Reserve鈥�. Younger policemen were called up into the armed forces, so slightly older men, not yet of conscription age, were encouraged to fill the gap.
This was for my father a dream come true. He was particularly glad after the war to be kept on as a regular police officer, and even after normal retirement age of 55 he was asked to man the police station office for a further ten years, but now working 9 鈥� 5 instead of the usual 8 hour shifts of 6am. 鈥� 2 pm., 2 - 10 p.m., or 10 p.m. 鈥� 6 a.m.
For my mother, too, the war brought a career change. General Film Distributors moved their offices to Ascot, and advertised for office staff. My mother had a good, quick brain, and she applied and was taken on, to her great delight. After the war she even commuted to London to continue working for GFD, loving the lively company, the feeling of independence the work gave her. She was not at the beck and call of the 鈥渓ady of the house鈥� as she would otherwise be as a charlady.
Soon the war began to hit home 鈥� there were air raid sirens, when we would be brought downstairs to sleep in the cupboard under the stairs, and we would hear the drone of the enemy aircraft overhead, on their way to bomb London. Sometimes a pilot would drop his bombs on the way, and there were a few craters in the Ascot area.
Family were called up 鈥� my mother was one of 12 children, there were 8 girls and 4 boys. Eric, the oldest man of the family, was a skilled car mechanic, recruited to work on aircraft construction at Farnborough. Jack joined the army, Geoff the RAF, and Phil, the youngest of the 12 children also joined the army once old enough, but had a terrible time, being bullied and hating every moment.
The women too joined up 鈥� Daisy was in the WAAFs, Kitty had to give up her dressmaking to go to a munitions factory (and told horrendous stories of occasional accidents with a girl being blown up alongside her or near enough for her to see the devastation caused to the body). Sybil had a husband in the navy, Olive a husband in the RAF, Winnie a husband in the army who went to Egypt. My grandparents were quite elderly then, and one daughter 鈥� Doris 鈥� was allowed to stay at home and was thus able to continue her small business as a dress maker, though most of her wartime work was patching and mending, turning seams, making children鈥檚 clothes from parents鈥� cast-offs. We had coupons for clothing, which did not go far, and of course imports of cheap cotton from India stopped, and factories in the UK were converted to making munitions and aircraft.
Another big change in our lives as the advent of evacuees. A whole area of Hackney was evacuated to the Ascot area, and we 鈥渧olunteered鈥� to have three of them, even though we had only two bedrooms, and the one very large one became a virtual dormitory. Fortunately my father had a garden where he grew vegetables which sustained us 鈥� for of course everything else was rationed 鈥� butter, meat, bread, eggs, milk 鈥� everything was 鈥渋n short supply鈥� as they said.
We coped, as everyone else did, and probably as children our diet was superior to that of many modern youngsters because sweets were rationed, we could not eat crisps or biscuits to our hearts鈥� content 鈥� we would have one good hot meal at mid-day and a piece of bread and dripping or jam at night with a mug of cocoa.
Some of the evacuees were difficult, to say the least. Those parked in the 鈥減osh鈥� houses in Ascot found it harder to cope, I think, than those in our more modest homes, because they were made to feel out of place. Their table manners were not up to scratch, they did not know what a bath was, some had head lice, and many were under nourished even before the war.
A school was set up in the Church Hall, the teachers having been evacuated with their classes. Gradually there was assimilation.
The parents of one evacuee we had was bombed out in the East End, and they all came to stay with us until they could get on their feet again. Another family, the Jacks, came and spent Christmas with us 鈥� quite welcome, they were, because Mr. Jacks who for some reason was not in the forces was a spiv and brought unheard of delicacies such as bubble gum.
Some children could not cope with being away from their parents, and went back 鈥� then more came and our house was full again.
The boys particularly would play war games in the local woods and on the recreation field 鈥� our main play area in the village apart from the old sand pit. It was difficult to persuade children to be the Germans (who of course always lost the battle) and it was often the weakest and least able to defend themselves who ended up in that role.
Children collected pieces of shrapnel, army badges, buttons from any kind of uniform, and Dinky Toys of model jeeps and trucks and tanks. My brother was always swapping items from his collection, I remember. Youngsters also made models of aircraft, using balsa wood and lots of glue!
The cinema was a popular source of entertainment, though it had to be evacuated if the air raid siren went. There would be a short film, perhaps a cartoon or a 鈥淏鈥� movie, then the Pathe News with stirring talk of battlefields and successes, then the main film would often be about the war 鈥� Mrs. Miniver, Waterloo Bridge 鈥� all effective propaganda to keep up morale. We just knew we were going to win in the end, we never doubted it.
The local Ascot racecourse became a barracks for the American Army 鈥� and the GIs caused havoc in some households. Women whose menfolk were fighting away from home and who had sole responsibility for the household and the children were easy prey for the offers of tinned pineapple and nylon stockings, not to mention Camel cigarettes, proffered by the Yanks in return for a dance and a kiss 鈥� and perhaps more. One or two men returned home to learn that their wives would be leaving for America once the war was over 鈥� and after a divorce. Sometimes this was reality, sometimes the beloved American GI failed to come back to claim his English 鈥渂ride鈥�.
Billy Smarts Circus operated out of North Ascot, but their headquarters became a prisoner of war camp 鈥� mostly for Italians, who were seen as less dangerous than Germans, and were gradually allowed out on parole during the day to help in local farms. The land particularly around Bracknell was largely farm land, and although Land Girls helped out, there was a real shortage of labourers. Again, some Italians integrated into the community and married there.
At school we seemed to have a constant round of events to raise money for the war effort. People relinquished their iron railings, their old saucepans, the rag and bone man had a new mission in life, to save the British people from the German invasion by collected as much as possible for 鈥渢he war effort鈥� which was the constant slogan.
We listened to the radio, to Churchill鈥檚 impassioned, rousing speeches. We gave over part of the sports field at school to the Dig for Victory campaign, sewing potatoes and swedes. We held quizzes to make money for the Wings for Victory, you paid 1 old penny to ask a question.
Somehow school continued, with half the normal male staff away on active service. We had a mish mash of supply teachers. For chemistry we had Harry Ark, a small man who was an industrial chemist, but who hated children, and who would throw the blackboard cleaner at us when his patience was finally lost at our bad behaviour. He would rant and rave at us, and call for the headmaster to restore order.
Sometimes a teacher we had heard of but did not know (for I joined the grammar school aged 10 in 1941) would turn up to the school resplendent in uniform, and give a talk.
Former sixth formers who had gone straight into the services as they left school aged 18 would also re-appear 鈥� and there were also sad occasions at morning assembly when the headmaster would have to read out that a former pupil had been killed, was missing, or had been wounded in action.
This was war, and of course there were tragedies, and terrible losses. It was one of my father鈥檚 more painful duties to be the bearer of bad tidings if someone was killed or went missing. Although a telegram was usually sent to the bereaved family, sometimes it was the police who were asked to carry the news.
At school Sis Hopkins, who taught French and also ran the Scripture Union group insisted on telling us just how her fianc茅 was killed in the army soon after D-Day. She was in tears but insisted on not missing a day of school 鈥淗e would have wanted me to carry on,鈥� she murmured through her sobs.
We were troubled for her, although she was not our favourite teacher, but were secretly relieved, I think when she dried her tears and went back to French verbs. We were similarly callous when Mr. Seaman came back to teach geography, having been in a terrible Japanese prisoner of war camp where he lost half his body weight. He came home not only emaciated, but traumatized, and would sweat as he tried to get our attention.
In our village there was always gossip about married women who were missing their husbands and having affairs, but of greater concern were the stories about anyone with a foreign accent, who would be accused of going out at night with a torch to give signals to enemy aircraft. Complaints would be lodged at the Police Station, and be looked into, but usually they were unfounded.
There were some stories with a happy ending 鈥� one woman in our village prayed in church every day for the safe return of her husband simply reported 鈥渕issing in action鈥�, and he did survive and was reunited with her after the war.
There was a sense of leveling out in the village 鈥� the big houses were by and large remote from the lesser ones in the village, housing the artisans who looked after the mansions, the roofers, the tilers, the painters and decorators, the charladies鈥� But there was genuine sympathy when Mrs. North-Lewis lost both her sons in the RAF, both young, handsome lads who had joined up straight from school.
Things did not revert to the status quo after the war 鈥� women had gone out to work and sensed independence. People did not any longer feel the same subservience to the 鈥渦pper classes鈥�, and indeed the post war election victory for Clement Atlee was just an _expression of that new sense of independence from the old order.
For some people it took time to settle down again 鈥� the rationing continued for a few years yet, and England did not rebuild or reinvest quickly enough to keep pace with the economic expansion in Germany, helped by Marshall Aid.
Family relationships were damaged by long absences of the menfolk, children did not know what it was to have a man about the house, a man who might be more of a disciplinarian than the lonely mother.
The sense of all pulling together gradually disintegrated too 鈥� people became greedy for things they had missed out on during the war.
However, when I went to France in 1951 for a year as part of my university degree in French, to Lyon, I discovered just how different it would have been had we been invaded by Hitler.
The recriminations still went on as to who had or had not been in the 鈥淩esistance Movement鈥�, who had been a collaborator and so on. The deprivations they suffered were worse, the guilt they felt at having almost allowed the Germans to walk into France unopposed, wrongly relying in the infamous Maginot Line to protect them, was palpable. It was a country torn apart psychologically in a way I had not envisaged, for we had been spared that indignity.
How my generation hoped there would be no more war. Young men still at that time had to do their national service, unless they could be exempt on the grounds of going to university or doing a particular skilled job for which there was a shortage of personnel and my brother went to Germany during his time in the RAF. But this was make believe, this was not war, as we had lived through it.
I have been on CND marches, I have marched against the Gulf War, against the War in Iraq 鈥� I know that what the Nazis did was unforgivable and that we had to fight them, there had to be a 1939 鈥� 45 war, but I would still like to think that we could build a more effective United Nations to settle conflicts through mediation and discussion, and avoid physical conflict.

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