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This story was submitted to the People’s War site by Edwina Davies on behalf of Jean Burrows (nee Rough) and Jack Burrows and has been added to the site with their permission. The authors fully understand the site’s terms and conditions. The story was input to the website by Mike Taylor.

Jean’s Story

When the war started I would be eighteen. I had gone into domestic service when I started work, firstly at Mrs. Brown’s confectioners and then I had problems with my legs, the result of kidney trouble which developed as a child, and so I went to work for a Mrs. Holt then for a Mrs. Davies at the Priory Hotel. When the war started I knew that I would be called up so I volunteered for the land army However, I did not pass the medical and so when I was called up it was to work in the NAAFI. I duly started work in the NAAFI at the camp at Cark aerodrome. I was there about six months and then I was moved to the army camp which was at the bottom of the Mile Road, although they always said the top! I had to furnish them with a medical certificate when I went to work in the NAAFI and Dr. Charlton did not think that they would accept me because of my medical history and was surprised when they did.
I was a baker and we had to produce an awful lot of cakes and bread to feed the numbers of personnel on the camps, cakes particularly because there were bread deliveries to the site. We baked all day. The army camp was bigger than the air force camp so my move there meant I was really kept hard at it. I started at 7.30 in the morning. I got a bus there from Cartmel Square but at the end of the day I faced a long walk home, about four miles. People were drawn from all round the area to work in the camp from as far away as Millom. I loved being there. You met people you would never have known.
I recall one chap asked if I was Scots because of my name, Jean being popular in Scotland and Hough being of Scottish origin. I was not aware of this but checking with my family revealed a Scottish ancestry. He was Scottish as were many who were at the camp at that time.
I had been there nine months when I was told that I had to go and see the M.O. I was worried. I thought at first that I must be in trouble. He told me that I had not handed in a medical certificate. I told him that I had, giving it to the charge hand for checking when I first started in the NAAFI. Enquiries were made and my certificate was found at the air force camp. It had not been forwarded and when they read it they told me that I could not continue to work at the camp.

The camps brought us into contact with people from every part of the country and from overseas. It was wonderful to get to know people with whom in peacetime we would never have been able to forge friendships. The village certainly became a livelier place because the soldiers frequented the village pubs, more of the army lads were around than the air force simply because they were in a majority since their camp was so much bigger. They also came to the village dances. My cousin, Gordon Bell, ran the hop at the village hall. My father was very strict but I was allowed to go to those. I did not go to the camp dances because of the long walk there and back. So I had to go back to the Priory Hotel and my brief war service ended.

Others of my family continued to play an active role.
My sister, Nancy, worked a plumber’s mate at Vickers in Barrow, lodging with my aunt, Mrs. Prickett. It was there that she met her husband, a regular in the navy. He came from Middlesborough and she duly became Mrs. George Swash.

My brothers served. My brother, Joe, volunteered for the royal navy, the first in Cartmel to do so. He was adamant that he did not want to go in the army or the air force. He went to join up at Plymouth and saw active service. His ship was bombed and he was allowed home on compassionate leave. My brother, Tom, went in the army and went overseas but he would never talk about his experiences.
I was going out with Jack before the war and his call up but it was after the war that we married.

John Burrow (Jack), his story.

When I was called up I joined in the army and was assigned to the role of manning the anti-aircraft Bofors guns. I was in what was commonly referred to as the Ack-ack. From my call up I was constantly moving to different places.
On call up I had to report to Conway and on enlisting I first went to Swansea, then Deepcut barracks at Aldershot. Next I was sent to Plymouth and then I was sent to Scotland , to Ayr and we were camped on the racecourse. Our next move, made under cover of darkness, was for embarkation and we sailed for Algiers. I never knew where I being sent. You always travelled at night.
Whilst in Algiers I met a butcher from Grange, in the office there. We were there to look after the command post. I manned a 6mm gun. It was in Algiers that I shot down the last aircraft our group shot down in our period of service.
From Algiers I went to Nabeul in Tunisia and then to Anzio in Italy. I was still on the anti aircraft guns until we landed there. The Germans at this point had no ‘planes left so there I became an infantryman. At this point we were joined by the Yanks. I was then in the company of the eighth army. That was early 1944. The first of our troops had pushed forward to Rome and then returned to report that they had seen no sign of the Germans but in a few days they were everywhere. I was fortunate to come through the war unscathed but like many others I had some close shaves. On one occasion I was in a dug out when a shell exploded nearby and although my bag on my back was damaged I was not. I particularly did not like jumping jacks. They would scatter when they exploded.

My next destination was Monte Cassino. The purpose of our landing at Anzio had been to take the weight off our lads at Monte Cassino. They were having a hard time. The attack had begun on 1st February and it was not taken until May, the 18th.

After Monte Cassino there was rest at Rome before Cairo. In Rome I became aware of the roaring trade many of the British soldiers were doing in army blankets. They would smuggle them out of the camp under their coats and sell them to the Italians. The Italians made them into clothes and you would meet them in their army blanket suits. The women made them into suits and skirts.
We took troops to Cairo, driving in convoy and from there they were to be flown home because demob’ had started. And then for me it was on to Palestine. There we were to rest up before moving again. We were kept moving. We went to Haifa for rations which we then transported to Iraq, to Baghdad. We took meat to there, driving round horrendous hairpin bends.
My two brothers also served overseas. Harry was in the army and after the war ended was in Palestine and Ted was a medical orderly. He served in India and was also a prisoner of the Japanese.
After the war I was happy to stop globetrotting Cartmel, to return and I have remained in the village.

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