大象传媒

A Wartime Wedding

This is the fifth story in a series of six short stories written by my father, AEG Allsop. He was born in Cromford Derbyshire in 1918.

Unfortunately my career in the army came to an end when I contracted meningitis in the late Autumn of 1942. After several weeks in Addenbrookes Hospital, Cambridge I was transferred to the home of Sir John and Lady Gray which had become a convalescent hospital administered by the Red Cross and St John Ambulance Service who, to assist in the national emergency, had joined forces. Lady Gray, as the Red Cross Commandant, was in charge. "The Gogs" as the home was known, took its name from the low hills overlooking Cambridge. Legend has it that Gog and Magog were the names of two giant warders of the Tower of London.

Of the patients, numbering about 40, most were victims of accidents or illness.

Shortly after my arrival a staffing reshuffle brought Anna to the Gogs. She was the only representative of St John's Ambulance. I was immediately attracted to her; her white apron and cuffs, stiff, positively crackled as she moved. Her short fair hair was almost hidden by her cap, except for the little above her forehead which so often escaped to catch the light, and it was this with which I first fell in love.

In July 1942 after being shunted about in various military hospitals, I was finally discharged. So I returned to Cromford, where I felt completely lost, but I had to find work. Dad tried to persuade me to go on the sick lists. I was directed to interviews for work. To refuse two placings meant automatic disqualification for unemployment pay. However, the firms I visited soon made it plain that I was unsuitable. It did not occur to me until long afterwards, that to employ me would displace someone else who would then be directed into the services or to a munitions factory. It was 1943 and many had so far avoided conscription.

Anna and I were longing to get together, but I had to have work of some kind. I was taken on in the laboratory of 'Bakelite', a small factory, part of a dispersible scheme for vulnerable establishments in large cities. The assistant I replaced was having a baby.

I wanted to travel to Cambridge in order to get engaged, but I was desperately short of money. I was due for a little cash gratuity from the army which would be sufficient for the ring, but as it had not arrived Mother lent me enough to cover the cost.

The wedding was to take place in December. I am afraid we did not take into account the inconvenience for the family of a winter wedding. All we wanted was to be together for Christmas.

I had to have a new suit for the great occasion. All I had was the awful brown de-mob jacket and trousers. This was a problem. Because of harsh restrictions clothing could only be purchased if the requisite number of clothing coupons could be found. My allocation was nowhere nearly sufficient. However there was a way of overcoming this difficulty. If one could acquire a suit-length then a tailor could make up a suit. Fortunately in Chesterfield my aunt Mary (nee Allsop)'s husband, Spencer, was a tailor. Spencer Bishop had a little workshop on the upper floor of a building in the town. A number of women were working there including my cousin Florrie Allsop. It was quite busy. All I had to do was study the little stock of material available, make my selection, pay for it, then hand it back to Spencer to have it made up. Very good!

It was quite late in the afternoon and I was about to leave when I mentioned that I had not so far been able to buy a wedding ring. Uncle again came to the rescue and took me to a friend of his, a jeweller. There was no problem about ring size because rather surprisingly, both Anna and I shared the same ring size. Again very good, but better still, my clothing coupons helped to buy Anna's trousseau.

On the eve of the wedding Mother and Dad and I went to Peterborough to stay with Uncle Alf and Aunty Lily. It was miserably cold, freezing fog everywhere. Huntley Grove before the war was a pleasant street of Edwardian houses fronting on to parkland. In 1942, alas, the small factories normally making agricultural machinery or packing fruit and vegetables grown in the Fens, had become a large complex manufacturing heavy machinery for war.

Around the fringes of the town were placed drums filled with oily waste which in the event of an air-raid could be fired to hide the area in a cloud of thick smoke. The Home Guard had taken over the little park; rows and rows of multi-barrelled anti-aircraft guns pointed to the sky. I dread to think what the noise would have been like should they be fired.

During an air-raid everyone went into shelters. Uncle Alf had chosen a steel cage affair which went under the dining table with just enough space for two people to make up a bed. And so the night before the wedding I shared the shelter with Uncle Alf and the dog!

The great day arrived. Dad suggested that I should catch an early train to Cambridge saying "You have got to be there." After all there was a war on and travelling at all was difficult and uncertain. Trains carrying essentials for the war effort had priority.

I was more than a little surprised that Uncle Alf was not going to accompany Aunty Lily to the wedding. Instead of which he read a short passage from the Bible privately before I set off !

It was still miserably cold and foggy. I found my way to Anna's home to await the service time. The Church of St Andrew the Great appeared gloomy - it was December and there was no heating and I do remember that I was shivering as much from cold as nerves. Anna's school friend Mary Tibbenham and Jane Button (Anna's neice) were bridesmaids. The bride was given away by her father. My best man Russell was serving in the army in India so Aunty Hilda had persuaded a neighbour, Alan Winstanley who was in the RAF and stationed locally, to act on Russell's behalf. The marriage service was conducted by Anna's brother in law, the Rev Edgar Button, Biddy's husband and vicar of Barrington, Suffolk.

After the formality of signing the register, heralded by the organ, we passed in procession to the Church door to find a triumphal arch awaiting us. The staff of the Gogs had assembled in uniform to raise splints over our heads. Sadly there could be no glorious clamour of church bells - the bells were stilled all over the land until peace could be declared. Had Hitler invaded Britain the church bells would have been the first alert.

The reception was at the University Arms, Cambridge. We were conducted into a huge room and it seemed that everything took place just inside the door. The wedding cake, typically of the period (made by Anna's mum ? ) was almost hidden away by a false white cardboard casing. Icing was unobtainable so the caterer provided simulated cakes made of white painted cardboard. The cake was inside the lower tier. The toast was drunk in claret cup. Neither Anna nor I finished our portion of cake, but were involved in family introductions and this was the first time we were to be inspected by Anna's aunts - Margaret, a tutor at Girton College and her sister Muriel.

And then the going away. We were taken to the station and helped on to a slow train which stopped at every station. Because of the black-out, the carriage was lit by a single dim blue light. It was only with the help of other passengers that used the line regularly that we could be aware of the names of the stations, but finally we got out at Letchworth. We were to spend our honeymoon at the Letchworth Arms Hotel. We walked through the station into total blackness. However, some kind soul directed us to a bus-stop. "Just wait there and the bus stops at the Hotel."

We presented ourselves at the hotel. Again the war restrictions demanded that we produce our ration cards, otherwise we should go hungry. Of course, Anna's card was registered in her own name, so the receptionist could only assume by our demure and obvious innocence that we really were married.

We returned to Cromford for a few days, but then we were invited to Cambridge for Christmas. The house was full; Edgar and Biddy and their two children, Jane and very little Christopher, were staying there whilst their new vicarage at Barrington was being made habitable. The only lighting was by oil lamps; electricity poles were being erected.

I seem to remember that the intense cold and fog still persisted. A neighbour just across the road from Anna's home had kindly lent us a bedroom. On Boxing Night we were awakened by massive explosions. We learned later that because of fog some of our bombers returning from a raid over Germany had crashed on the airfield which was quite nearby. 65 airmen lost their lives that night.

The honeymoon was over. We were faced with reality. We had to stay with my parents. Until we needed the accommodation a sergeant and his wife had been billeted on my folks and so they had to go. It must have been very difficult for Anna. I was by this time doing shift work; the concept of unsocial working hours was meaningless. Everyone was in some way having to subscribe to the war effort.

Thank goodness by the spring we had been able to rent a house in Matlock Bath. This was heaven ! The house was a three-storey semi-detached with a cellar making a total climb of 37 steps to the attic. The owner lived next door, a dragon who always made us feel uneasy. She was extremely suspicious of her tenants.

For newly weds an allowance was made to buy furniture and household goods. Anna was able to buy blankets, very warm, hard-wearing but grey in colour similar to those on issue to the armed services. Allowances worked on a points system. However, to purchase a Utility sideboard we expended all our points. It was fortunate that Dad bought and sold secondhand furniture so most of our first home was furnished from items we purchased from the shop.

I hope that this story will be of interest to our children. Looking back, for me at least, it is all so clearly remembered, how we overcame so many difficulties, but this we could not have done without the support of our families and the friends we made along the way. After all this was just the beginning of what has proved to be a long, happy and loving partnership blessed with a delightful family.

漏 Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.