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At the outbreak of war I was 13 and attending grammar school. For a while school studies continued as normal, but it wasn’t long before the school Governors considered we ought to contribute to the war effort.

This was to take the form of supplying a whole range of warm, hand-knitted garments for the sailors on a mine-sweeper, which had already been selected.

It was assumed, quite correctly, that pupils’ mothers would undertake the task of converting thick, coarse and rather oily wool, into jumpers, balaclavas, gloves and knee-length socks. And this was achieved in record time by mothers throughout the district, clicking away tirelessly at their knitting needles, every evening as they sat in front of a modest coal fire with the blackout curtains tightly drawn.

When the task was completed, jumpers of all shapes and sizes, balaclavas and gloves to fit a range from midget to giant, and knee-length socks, many with an uncanny resemblance to long johns, were packed into boxed and dispatched to Hull.

The school was aglow with self-satisfaction.

Some weeks afterwards the Captain of our mine-sweeper came to school to thank us.

We were packed into the assembly hall and, on the stage, a slightly embarrassed Captain assured us that, due to our efforts, his small crew would be kept warm for a very long time to come!!

Brenda Harford Sealey.

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