大象传媒

This story has been submitted to the People's War website by Liz Andrew of the Lancshomeguard on behalf of Mrs Lily Coltman and added to the site with her permission.

I was twenty six when the war started. I lived in West Kirby near Liverpool and I remember the lights went out on the second day of the War. The utter darkness struck me. People began to paint their windows black. Not a single light showed.

I got married on June 1st 1940 and seven weeks later a telegram came to the house. I thought it was for my husband's father but when I showed him it, he said, "No - it's for the boy."

When my husband, Charles, came home from work I didn't show him the telegram straight away. He told me about one of his friends at work who had just been called up and was having to leave on Thursday. He felt so sorry for him that I didn't show him his own telegram till after tea. But he had to leave for Chepstow barracks on the Thursday. "Lily," he said as he left, "It'll all be over in twelve months. "

Then I went to stay with my mum in a little village near Wrexham called Bradley. Everyone knew each other. We used to go potato picking once a week at a local farm and we used to have meetings twice a week in the village hall where we'd knit balaclavas, gloves and scarves. You name it ...we'd knit it. During the Siege of Stalingrad we had a carnival - we begged , borrowed and stole and collected 拢98.00 for the children of Stalingrad. I liked the fellowship and how kind people were to each other.

When my little boy was born we were on coupons and we had an awful job getting clothes for him. We'd go to rummage sales and buy materials and make him little trousers and shirts. And we used to buy men's trousers for our selves and slit them and make skirts out of them. We'd Make do and Mend and we were never really short of things.We did lots of machining - They don't seem to do that today.

My brother and his wife had no children of their own but they took in four evacuee children - two boys and two girls from Liverpool. They loved them and kept them all through the War. They were devastated when they left. My brother's parents in law were bombed out of Liverpool and they came to live with us. My mother used to welcome anyone to her house.

Our committee used to give a little party in the Village Hall for every soldier who was home on Leave. Again we'd beg, borrow and steal and we'd always make some little cakes and a cheese and onion pie. Anyone who had a car would go to Wrexham Station and stay there all night waiting for the trains coming in with the troops, and then they'd drive them wherever they needed to go.

Wartime did everybody good. We had sufficient for our needs. We were healthier on the little we had. Everybody helped each other and the Togetherness was better than anything.

The most terrible part of the War was when four of my husband's friends were killed at Dunkerque - they all used to go to Blackpool together for weekends. But at Dunkerque they just couldn't get out of the way.

Charles was in the RAOC and based in Northampton and I went down to stay with him before he went abroad. Once a week I'd get the bus from Weedon to Daventry at 6 in the morning to queue at a pork butcher's. I was able to get a meat pie, two black puddings, four sausages and a savoury duck.It was nice that he could come home to his tea.

He joined the Invasion two days after D Day. He had to wade knee deep in the sea to get to the shore. He said the smell was dreadful and you couldn't hear yourself over the sound of the bombardment. I was worried sick but had no idea what was really going on. The only good thing about it was that he came home.

At VE day we were out on the streets. Mr Knight, who was the local benefactor, provided four searchlights and had some music ready and we danced and sang. I remember singing Rule Britannia. My mother looked after my little boy for me and it was quarter to three by the time I came home. We had a cup of tea and I remember saying, "I wonder when Charles will get home"

We went to bed and then there was a knock at the door. " Who's there?" I called. "It's a soldier boy come home." I couldn't believe it. It was my husband whom I hadn't seen for three years.

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