- Contributed by听
- Colinpeter
- People in story:听
- Peter Collins
- Location of story:听
- Tottenham London
- Article ID:听
- A2108189
- Contributed on:听
- 04 December 2003
I only became aware of the expression " Phoney War long after the war
ended, the ordinary working classes took the early war very seriously
and were surrounded by daily reminders. Fathers and uncles were being
recruited into the services, iron railings were confiscated from our
front garden, buses were towing trailers with burners to convert coal
to gas for fuel, ration books, the retrieval of steam propelled
lorries from retirement. Of the few cars there were on the road, many
many were fuelled by gas carried in great balloon bags carried on the
roof of the vehicle and all vehicles were fitted with odd looking
headlight diffusers.
I remember the barrage balloon lorry, parked nearby with it's trailer
stacked with gas tubes, looking to me , a child, like a pack of large
sausages, the sticky brown paper on all windows to reduce the effects
of bomb blast.
I rember my one and only wartime birthday tea, in August 1940 and
because we had been expecting air raids to start for sometime, I
made a wish, when I blew out the candles, that no raid would start
until my birthday tea was over.
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