大象传媒

On 2nd September 1939, the day before the outbreak of World War 2, I, a seven-year old and my family moved into a largish Victorian, 4-storey house. Here there was an underground cellar. After one or two disturbed nights due to siren warnings, Mother decided to instal two double beds in the cellar and this is where we slept for most of the war - my younger sister and I in one, and my aunt and another sister in the other. My elder brother was away in the Army and an elder sister at deaf school in Derby. Mum and Dad continued to sleep upstairs together with baby born in 1943.

The cellar was a rather dark, grim place with windows at one end with grating above where copious amounts of dirt and rubbish dropped through to well below. In one corner there was a coal house (under the passage) and coal was tipped in through the ceiling. In the corner the other side of the window was a brick-built copper heated by a coal fire. There was also a dolly tub, large old mangle and tin bath. Mother did all her washing here. There was also a gas cooker for all our meals and baking.

Considering there was no fresh air at all in this improvised bedroom, I had a very healthy childhood and grown ups always remarked on my rosy cheeks.

This story has been entered by Terry Greenwood on behalf of Margaret Humphreys who has given her written permission so to do.

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