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The war started 2nd Sept 1939.

We were living in an upstairs maisonette in Southall. Ray was three and Carol two. The war wasn’t a surprise really - Chamberlain had said that if Germany had not withdrawn from Poland by 11am on 2nd Sept we would be at war. We heard it on the radio as Chamberlain announced it. We were sitting in our living room.

My husband Dick was a reservist in the Catering Corp. He had signed up just to get the extra money; I don’t think either of us ever thought it would come to active service.

On the day war broke out he knew exactly what to do as he had already been given standby instructions on where and when to report. We went with him to Southall Station (with the kids) to wave him off. He didn’t want us to bother going with him really, but I insisted. He went up North - not sure where — for more training.

Surprisingly I was very calm — so was he. Neither of us knew what to expect. Life just had to go on. I can’t remember what he wore that day but as a very smart man I know his shoes would have been very well polished!

I was very sad to see him go and worried obviously, but it happened so quickly and so, oddly, I just got on with life. I didn’t cry after he’d gone. The children were a real handful and that really took up all my attention.

At the beginning they called it the phoney war — nothing happened - life went on as usual. It was some months before the blitz — we didn’t even have a shortage of food.

After six months Dick came back on embarkation leave for a week - before he was sent to France.

The next big thing was the first bomb. Although we were lucky as they were not targeting Southall — the City got it first. But when the air raids started it was terrible. I had the children’s cots in the bedroom with me.

Sam - our neighbour in the flat downstairs — would, as soon as heard the siren, move to the bottom of the stairs where Carol my little girl would throw herself down for him to catch her at the bottom.

We did originally go to the shelters in the Underground - but Carol had bronchitis and nits — caught in the shelter! The Doc was worried about her and advised me not to take the children down there anymore. He told us to stay indoors and 'be lucky'. When there were raids we kept in the bedroom and hoped for the best - dog and all! You could hear the planes and the whistling of the bombs — you just held your breath and hoped your name was not on it.

When Dick came back from France he experienced his first London bomb — he hadn’t experience anything there! It was then he insisted I take the children to my mothers at East Hagbourne — which we did. There were no bombs in Didcot, even though it was on a main railway line.

At my mothers, she said she wanted to do the cooking — there was no way two people could be in the kitchen so I decided to go out to work. I got a job in the railway depot. I loaded trains along with elderly men and other women. It was heavy work.. We loaded trains with towels, scissors, stretchers, medicine balls for the soldiers. We sewed canvass with large needles with hook and string - then worked machines to press down to bail them up — then we would fold sacking around and sew them with the string. Using an ink stencil we would stamp numbers on the bails.

It was there that I met a dear friend - Lillian. She was a young widow and we stayed in touch till she died in her 80s.

Don’t talk to me about food shortages! I used to cycle to Didcot and queue for fish —I would queue for hours and they would often sell out before I got to the front. I would really cry then. The kids never saw a banana. We ate rabbit, corn beef and spam from the USA. I was lucky because I got fresh eggs from the old boys at work who had chickens. They gave them to me for the kids. At least in the country it was not like London where everything was powdered - even powdered potatoes. In the garden I planted tomatoes, cabbage, potatoes and worked very hard. Ray was forced to collect manure from the horses on the street - he'd go out there with his spade, but it was great for the tomatoes.

We stayed there for 5 years — kids started school. I could never had let the kids go as evacuees — would have rather kept them in London.

I didn't see Dick for 4 1/2 years - he didn’t have leave. He went to Greece, Crete, Alexandria, Iraq — where he stayed as a staff sergeant. When he eventually came back all he did was order everyone around. Old habits die hard I suppose. I got some letters from him. I did know he was coming home. But I was always worried I would get that telegram.

Conditions were awful after the war. We had no where to live in London. The Council took over lots of buildings after the war to re house people. Conditions were awful and the council took pity and eventually re housed us - we were desperate.

We were very lucky in our family everyone came back. My brother in law Bob didn’t go - he was a conscientious objector. Was surprised but didn’t find out for years afterwards - he must have been brave to do that.

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