大象传媒

This story was submitted to the People's War site by Mrs R. Baldwin. She fully understands the the site's terms and conditions.

Ruby

We were a family of eight children living a simple life in a tied Miner鈥檚 house. Like all around us, the quality of life was poor and the five oldest children had left to seek a better life elsewhere.

When father died at the age of 41 I was just nine years old, considered to be quite bright at school, passed all my exams and qualified for a place at Grammar School. I thought I was on my way to better things but the stigma of being poor took a hand in my destiny. I was interviewed by a governing gentleman to assess my acceptability for such an honourable position as a student in a Grammar School. His first question shattered my morale; 鈥渨hat does your Father do鈥�? he is dead Sir I replied, 鈥渨ell that does it then, your mother can not afford to buy you uniform and other things so you can鈥檛 go.

Mother was receiving just ten shillings at that time plus three shillings for each of the three girls and that was simply not enough for admission to grammar school. At one time, when there were some shoes for the very poor, the teacher asked 鈥渨ho needs new shoes鈥�, of course I put my hand up only to be told 鈥測ou can put your hand down, your mother gets a pension. However I did get a pair, some were left over and I went to the Town Hall to collect them. Left school at the age of fourteen and went to work as a Maid; four shillings a week less one shilling for Cap and Apron.

One day, whilst white washing a cellar where loads of apples were stored on shelves, I could not resist it, I stole one and hid it down the leg of my bloomers. Of course it was the largest one I could see and I suffered the rest of the day; what with the damned thing rubbing on my leg and the fear of it falling out the agony was unbearable. However, walking home across the fields and along the canal I decided to eat it. What a shock, one bite was enough, it was a very sour cooker and I threw it into the canal; all that agony and fear for nothing.

Mother had gone to Leicester to visit two of her daughters and I was staying with a married sister; I told her I was not going back to work there, wait till your mother comes home and you will cop it. Mother arrived and of course I shed some tears, not to worry she said, we are going to live in Leicester and I have found a job for you at Corahs.

Having visited Leicester before it was like going back to Utopia for me and I was over the moon. I asked mother if I could have a whole egg to myself there, yes she said, we will be much better off now. Here we could only have a boiled egg between the three of us, that always caused arguments as to whose turn it was to have the middle piece.

So it was, in 1933, that we moved to Leicester. All the furniture was piled on to a flat leaf lorry and off we drove, over sixty miles, to Leicester with Mother sitting in the rocking chair and we three girls tied into a large armchair. Our arrival was an exciting adventure, driving up a large congested area which the driver said was Charles Street. Further on we stopped in Highfields and moved our belongings into rented rooms.

Next morning, the lady next door, who had also moved from (?) and married a Leicester man, took me to the Clock Tower and down Church Gate to my job at Corahs. I had never seen a Factory before and was absolutely paralysed with fear; row upon row of machines all connected together and driver by a belt from the ceiling at the end of each row. If one machine stopped for any reason the whole row stopped, much to the annoyance of the operators who were losing their output. My job, apart from collecting and washing up cups, was to return to the operators defects to be rectified. I was petrified with fear of these old experienced and sometimes miserable machinists, they took their frustrations out on me.

At the end of that first day, the friend took me back to the Clock Tower and left me to find my way home. I had no idea where I was and wandered up and down London Road searching for something I may recognise. I passed the Railway Station a number of times, completely lost and becoming more frightened every minute. All the family were out searching for me and I was eventually found by the next door neighbour; my god what a relief that was. My wage was ten Shillings per week less three Pence stoppages, I kept the nine pence and gave mother the rest.

I worked at Corahs on and off for 17 years living a much improved life as a teenager and adult. At the age of seventeen my friend and I became friendly with two Air Force lads who were later posted to Egypt and we wrote to them frequently. In the meantime I met Harry; although ten years older he was a fantastic dancer and taught me to dance. He had come from London and started an upholstery factory next door to where we lived and manufactured goods for Kingstones in Leicester.

At this time the two Air Force lads returned from Egypt hoping to take up where they had left off, they told us there was going to be a war but it meant very little to us at that time. My Airman, who was a Pilot, had brought me a bracelet from Egypt, I returned it to him in a letter telling him about Harry, he was killed very early in the war.

It was a beautiful sunny Sunday morning, we were preparing lunch prior to going to Aylestone Boathouse for an afternoon on the river, when a sombre voice on the radio told us we were at War with Germany. My mother had married again 2 years previously and father said Harry and all the men would be called up. At first it was frightening and exciting then nothing seemed to happen and we carried on as normal; it was called the Phoney War and lasted throughout the winter.

We got engaged at Xmas and married on the 15th. June 1940 at Shoreditch Church in the East End. It was a most memorable day and also a troubled day, for there on a news board outside the church it said 鈥淧aris Has Fallen鈥�. I walked up the aisle, Harry smiled, I said 鈥淧aris has fallen鈥�; the Vicar asked 鈥渨hat did you say鈥� and I repeated it for him. Harry had paid for everything and it was the beginning of a wonderful life for us, regardless of the War.

At that time, although much bombing activity was experienced at Ports along the south coast, London was fairly quiet and Harry鈥檚 parents at Bethnal Green had little cause for concern. However, since there were two vacant properties near me, it was considered sensible for them to move up to Leicester and Harry fetched them along with his sister and baby.

We went in his van to load up at Bethnal Green and return; no problem we thought but Hitler had other ideas. It was Saturday 13th. Sept. and we arrived in the middle of the first real air raid of the blitz. There were bombs dropping everywhere with fires all over the place and the planes kept coming over in droves. Having never experienced anything like this before the noise was unbearable and very frightening. When the all clear sounded I could not believe it had happened; almost like it was a dream but the fires told you different. We got out of it quickly, Harry with the van and we by train. During the rest of that month I believe something like 10,000 bombs were dropped on the East End and Bethnal Green had it鈥檚 share.
A short time later Harry鈥檚 dad returned to London on his own, he was not happy being away from home. Our son Allan was born in Oct. 1941 and Harry was called up for service in the Royal Artillery in Oct. 1942. He had paid an Official money to gain recognition as a reserved occupation but that failed, what a waste of good money. His two brothers who were members of the Territorial Army were called up at the outbreak of War and had worked as printers at a wage of 拢6.00/ week; I remember saying to my Mum they must be rich because they had Bacon and Eggs and things for their tea.

Having a young family, I never went to work during the war and food was rationed; there was plenty available on the black market, if you had the money. Harry鈥檚 father in London was lucky, his next door neighbour worked in the docks and seemed able to get his hands on anything. One day, when we were visiting, he called to say they were off to Brighton and could we use some butter and lard. Of course we said yes expecting a normal small pack; he turned up with a large tub with five or six pounds in it. He even called one day to ask if we needed any meat; in his house there were large joints of it hanging all over the place, all right for some. Working in the docks he could get anything, including Watches, we all had new Watches through him; no matter what you mentioned he could get it.

Where I lived in Highfields there were Baker, Butcher, Bread and Sweet shops. The baker occasionally had cakes and one day I said 鈥渃an I have a cake鈥�, no he said you have to wait for someone to die, things like butter and lard were very scarce on ration and dried egg was used for many things. With the shortage of meat I often cooked roast vegetables with Yorkshire Pudding and gravy. Waiting in the Butchers one day I noticed him give one Lady a parcel, 鈥渨hat was that I asked鈥� it is just bones for the Doctor鈥檚 Dog he said, how lucky that dog was.

We made many trips to London to visit Harry鈥檚 parents and on this occasion we attended his brother鈥檚 wedding. It was Jan. 1941 and he lived in Canning Town in the much bombed dock area, the ceilings in the house were all held up with planks and beams but it was liveable. As usual there was a lot of noise around us and the men were all standing near the front door which bothered me, I asked what鈥檚 up and they answered don鈥檛 go out yet. Minutes later they suggested you girls got into the shelter in the garden and out we went; my God I had never seen any thing like it! The sky was completely crisscrossed with searchlights, the noise of guns and bombs was unbearable, and everything seemed to be on fire all around us; it was horrific and all right on top of us.

When we came out from John鈥檚 wedding, since there were no Buses, we had to walk through streets partly blocked with debris, hoses, Fire Engines and rivers of water flowing down the gutters, there were no buses to any where. We had to walk all the way back from Bethnal Green and that was a long trek with me pregnant as well.

When Harry was stationed at Watford I sometimes stayed there at the house of his friend Joe who had been his best man. He told us that, on the night of Johns Wedding, his father had been killed at Piccadilly Circus when a bomb went down the stairway and exploded in the station. It was estimated by someone that the total number of high explosive bombs dropped on London during the blitz was between 45鈥�000 and 50鈥�000. Harry鈥檚 parents house survived and they came through it without a scratch; how lucky can you be.

Just got back to Leicester and were walking down Nedham Street when I said 鈥漧ook there is a Factory on fire鈥�; it was Freeman Hardy and Willis. It was suggested we go and have a look and only then realised that Leicester was being bombed. We went to mother in law鈥檚 house to see if she was Ok but was not there; it was Spinney Hill park next where an underground shelter was located and there she was perched on a bench. It was not many minutes before the bombs were dropping again and one landed right outside. The blast had buckled the metal door and it could not be opened; we all sat on the wooden benches hardly daring to breath then someone crying said we will never get out and probably die down here. However, a local ARW man came to the rescue and all were soon out once again in the fresh air; my God that was a relief.

An Ambulance was standing on Mere Road, we wondered why and got our answer when my mum tried to go home. She lived near the Post office and there was an unexploded bomb somewhere there; another had dropped on the Cricket Pitch so she came home with me. She was probably grateful for the company, her husband was a prisoner of war somewhere in Germany. My father in law said he probably gave himself up to get out of the war, not a very nice comment to make.

My only brother Son, who joined the army when he was only sixteen years old, ( he lied about his age), had served and finished his time in India. When War was declared he was delighted; joined up again straight away and went into the Leicester Tigers. We were having a party after my Sister鈥檚 wedding to a man in a reserved occupation in a Coventry Factory. We were all sitting around in the lounge when he made a nasty comment about soldiers running away, Son, who was home on leave jumped up, grabbed him by the throat and hit him straight through the window with the remark 鈥淚 have just come through Dunkirk for useless buggers like you. Of course my mum was not pleased and told Son to clear off- you are always causing trouble. My mother in law spoke up and said, 鈥�

he deserved it for saying that, I have three sons out there fighting and it was an insult to them. What a party that was.

Harry鈥檚 mum decided that, if there was going to be more bombing in Leicester, she would not be worse off if she went back to London; her husband had gone back earlier and she missed him. My Sister in law with her baby stayed with me, I stayed at home looking after the children whilst she went to work. It was a convenient arrangement with both our husbands in the Forces; her husband in the RAF in Egypt and my Harry being moved about in England.

Although the odd bomb was dropped, we had no more heavy raids and just carried on with our austere lives grappling with the problems of rationing etc. Of course having such a friend as a Docker in London was a boost to our quality of life but only played a momentary part in the hum-drum pattern of making ends meet.

When Harry had leave, I went to him at his Mum鈥檚 house in London. It was more convenient when he was stationed on the outskirts at Watford but, as the invasion of Europe became more probable, he was moved away to the southeast. Of course his letters were censored and he could not tell me when or where but we had an arrangement that, when he knew he was going over, he would put money in the envelope; a 拢1.00 note arrived one day and I knew he had gone.

The War in Europe seemed to be never ending then Harry suddenly came on three days leave. It was his last day when, in the afternoon, someone opened a window and shouted 鈥測ou can rest now Soldier the War is over鈥�. Sadly, so was Harry鈥檚 leave and he reported back to Barracks hoping for an extension but he was sent back across the Channel; there was still much to be done.

Next day London went mad, streets packed with people all clambering towards Buckingham Palace and we joined them. It was an exciting but frightening event; the crowd were so tightly packed that I was carried a great distance without my feet even touching the ground. But, above it all was relief that my Harry would come home safe and sound in limb. What a blessing that was.

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