大象传媒

When we returned to London, we gave up comfortable beds, with sheets and pillows, with good food every day, for four in a bed with old overcoats for blankets and bed bugs, food was always in short supply.

The reason for this was that my father was a heavy drinker, and all his money went into the pub, mum was given hardly any money and with 10 mouths to feed we lived in poverty. Mum used to sell some of our ration coupons, so she was able to feed us. With my brother we would steal vegetables from the market, and beg scraps from the butchers for mum to make a stew. Often our only meal of the day was porridge made with water, we were always hungry. If mum didn't come up with meat and veg for my
father, she would get a good hiding.

The battle of Britain was fought mainly over the East End of London, we lived in Hammersmith West London so we saw and heard very little. When the Blitz started it was another matter, we had a shelter under the flats where we lived, we listened to the whistle of the bombs and when they went off with a great explosion we were pleased, they reckoned that the one that got you, you never heard, but still you lived in terror.

One night the siren had gone, but it was very quiet, a group of us lads stood on the shelter entrance looking at the sky, when someone said look a parachute, we thought it was a German, as it came down it just lifted over the roof of our flat, then came an enormous explosion. All us lads came tumbling down the steps in a big heap, the women and children were screaming, but nothing happened.

In the morning we came out of the shelter walked through the arch to the street, what a sight. Two complete streets of houses had disappeared, it was a landmine, there were ambulances, men with stretchers, and dead bodies, horrible, we lost a lot of mates that night.

After a week or so of bombing, some of us were evacuated to Geddington (Northants).

My brother and I lived with a butcher Mr. and Mrs. Russell. We caught scabies and were sent to Oundle Infirmary. When we returned Mrs. Russell didn't want us, she had burnt our mattress, and said that we were not clean.

We ended up staying with various families, until I was asked if I would like to live on a farm I said 鈥淵es鈥�. (A big mistake!) When I got to Mr. Berridge's farm, my sister Dora was there. I was 11 years old and my sister was just 7 years old, what followed was two years of hell.

I was woken on my first morning there, by being dragged out of bed, told to get dressed, went downstairs, got some water from the butt and washed. I was given some bread and butter and a cup of tea. The clock said 6 o'clock.

The farm was 250 acres mixed spread around the village, and was rented from the Duke of Buccluegh.
I had to collect the cows take them to be milked, pumped up gallons of water for the trough, feed the cows, with food that I had cut up (Swedes, hay, oilcake), take the buckets of milk put it in the cooler, and feed any calves we had. When the milk was cooled I put it in churns which I had cleaned out, then fed the pigs and then cleaned out the cooler. This happened twice a day, every day.

Other tasks I had to do were grazing the cattle on the roadside, harness the horses, drive a tractor with various tools. In fact I was doing a man鈥檚 work. No school, always hungry, I smelt, the local lads called me smelly Judge, because on Saturdays I drove the sewage cart while Mr. Berridge emptied the earth closets of the village, the stench was horrible.

My sister and I seldom saw each other because she could not work she received very little food, so once again I stole food for the both of us.

It got to the point where I could hardly walk, my legs gave me terrible pain, I was always tired and hungry. We never had a bath in 2 years.

One morning, Mrs. Berridge took me to the school. She said we had to see the doctor, and I was to mind what I said. There was a doctor there with the schoolmaster, a teacher, and a man taking notes.

I was examined, and the doctor said I was in a terrible state, he asked me what I had to do on the farm, so I told him. He told Mrs. Berridge that as a mother she should be ashamed of herself, and he would get it stopped. She said how could they run the farm, I well remember that he got very angry with her.

It turned out that the teacher had tried to get it stopped, but nobody would listen, until she saw me herding the cows through the village at 6.30 in the morning, through the pouring rain and noticed that I could hardly walk. She got the doctor involved, my sister was seen later. She still suffers to this day. We went home.

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