大象传媒

This story was submitted to the People's War site by Maggie Smith from WM CSV Action Desk on behalf of Mrs Dorothy Cram and has been added to the site with her permission. Mrs Dorothy Cram fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

My earliest memory connected with the war was in April 1942 when the enemy dropped bombs on York Station, just a few minutes from our house. Not only was the station hit but they also hit the Convent which was between York Station and us. We lived just outside the city walls, off Nunnery Lane. My father had to go and help dig out several dead nuns after that attack. Our front window was blown in and our chimney blown off and we were ankle-deep in soot! What my Granny called the Germans was not repeatable and certainly not printable!!

I lost two of my uncles in the RAF during the war, each a brother of my parents. We spent lots of time in the air raid shelter and I found it quite cosy. Backing onto our large back yard was the back of the slaughter house of the butchers in the next road, and we often had a piece of meat brought through (secretly) by the butcher's wife. That meat certainly helped our meagre rations along and Granny quickly made good use of it. The butcher and his wife shared our air raid shelter and their little daughter Shirley and I were quite happy to sit in the candlelight with the grown ups. I had one 'floppy-headed' rag doll called Grace Darling , after the grandmother who'd made it for me. That was the only toy I remember having.

I started school in September 1942, a month after my forth birthday. I carried my Mickey Mouse gas mask with me and was quite happy to wear it when we had practices in the classroom. I remember a year or two later us chanting in the infant's playground, "...it's the 24th of May - Royal Oak Day and if you don't give us a holiday, we'll run away". I also used to go with one of one my Grannies to get her rations and can remember being shocked at the small amount of food that was supposed to be her ration for a week. I remember too standing on the ques with my mother for a small amount of 'potted meat' from the Pork Butchers in the lane. It made a nice change on bread instead of 'dripping' (rendered down fat from the small amounts of meat)which we usually had. We had rabbit in various forms but I never remember having a proper egg - only egg powder!

Three months after my forth birthday I was badly burned - I collided with my mother as she was transferring a shovel full of hot cinders from the fire in the back room to start another fire in the front room where Granny was ill in bed. It went down my neck and my back and as a result of the injury, blood poisoning set in. I was nursed at home and given no more than a few hours to live. My mother was told to send and fetch my father back from work as I was not expected to last out the day. The doctor came in most days and I have vivid memories of the terrible pain each time the bandages were ripped off my neck. That was 62 years ago!

Another bomb dropped at the bottom of our street and on the estate beyond. The 'crater' at the end of our street became our playground. We made 'houses' out of bricks and pieces of marble left on the ground and also spent many happy hours making mud pies with daisy petal trimmings.

I remember too, the street party we had at the end of the war. It was a fancy dress party and I was dressed as a Dutch girl. I had skeins of brown darning wool as my pig-tails fastened to a white cap and wore a white apron over my skirt and jumper. My mother had borrowed a flower basket from the greengrocer's shop in Nunnery Lane and I thought I looked great! My older sister Margaret was dressed as a Land Army Girl and her friend was dressed as 'night' in a long black dress with silver moons and stars sewn on. My cousin Valerie and the little boy next door to her were Jack and Jill.

I remember the grown ups commenting (though don't remember seeing it myself) that the ancient Guildhall in the centre of York had been hit and badly damaged and there was a big gaping hole outside the hall in Coney Street.

It was not long before the end of the war that I was allowed to you in to the centre of York one morning. I felt very grown up and enjoyed the adventure. I was just passing Craven's bolied sweet factory (now the Jorvik Viking Centre) when I noticed a 10/- note on the pavement. I quickley bent to pick it up at the same time as man coming towards me did the same. Because I was small I reached it first. He told me to take it home to my mother who would be glad of it. I did and she was, but all I got in exchange was 6d. I've thought many times since what poor exchange rate that was!

There was always a spirit of friendhip and neighbourliness in our street and I think I was too young yo be really aware of what war was! Life was tough - so you just got on with it.

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