大象传媒

I'm a pupil from Heaton Manor Comprehensive School, Newcastle Upon-Tyne, entering Amicia Eyston's story onto the website, and they fully understandthe website terms and conditions of use.

As a child I grew up on a farm on the outskirts of Newcastle. Living in the countryside during world war two meant that the risk of air raids were very low and throughout the entire war only two bombs were dropped in the area surrounding my village 鈥� fortunately both of these bombs were duds. Although risks of bombing were low, safety precautions were still enforced, all windows were covered with blackout boards constructed of thick black fabric stretched over a wooden frame and air raid wardens did nightly checks to ensure no light could be seen leaving the house. Like in all villages, towns, and cities, gas masks were issued to everyone in the community, I and my two brothers were given ordinary gas masks but as a younger child my sister was given a Mickey Mouse gas mask to encourage her to wear it.
As the war years continued without any sign of gas being used in the countryside people became less vigilant about constantly carrying their masks with them. I distinctly recall being taken to the cinema by my Aunt who did not have her gas mask with her and she was refused entry to the show. She returned to the cinema minutes later with a gas mask box over her shoulder and was admitted to the film but unbeknown to the cinema worker the box was empty.
The safety of living in the countryside meant that children from big cities were evacuated to small villages. People were obligated by law to take in as many evacuees鈥� as they could. Living in a farm house meant that my family took in a total of six London children. As we were used to producing our own food on the farm rationing was not as much as a shock to my family as it would have been to families living in big cities. The evacuees were so shocked that milk was issued to them fresh from a jug instead of a bottle they would not drink it, this was the same situation for the vegetables, they would not eat them fresh having been so accustom to eating them out of tins. Food did eventually become in demand even in the country and my family and I were involved in a scheme that meant we received food parcels from abroad; our particular parcels were issued from a family in Australia. However, we became to use produce from the farm as food that we hadn鈥檛 originally, for example nettles became a regular part of our diet, and eggs became in greater demand and were replaced by the less appetising substitute of powdered eggs. Flour was also scarce and white bread was a great novelty as flour had been sold in a less pure form that turned bread a grey colour. Along with food clothes were also rationed and to help with the war effort every Tuesday for an hour women from my village formed a knitting group making hard yarn into vests, socks and hats fro sailors. Shoes were often in need of repair and replacement and to slow down these processes the government started a campaign for people to wear clogs that were painted to add desire. Slogans were used to advertise the wooden shoes and the particular one that I can remember is, 鈥淗ey diddle diddle they鈥檙e hinged in the middle, no wonder they鈥檙e comfy to wear, they鈥檙e gay warm and strong and they last twice as long if you keep the treads well in repair.鈥�
Although many of my war time experiences were memorable because they were happy, I also encountered the terrible experience that many others did, something that is inevitable when at war. My Father felt that it was his duty to join up in the army even though at the age of 39 it was not expected, so in September 1939 he did just that and he was posted in France in January 1940 and then to Belgium. In October 1940 my mother received a telegram with the news of his death; he was one of only two men from his battalion to have lost their lives that night. He had been wounded along with his friend and taken to a field hospital where they both past away later that night. As proper burials were difficult at the time my Father and his companion were temporarily laid to rest in sacks in the hospital grounds, it was six months later before they were both given graves in the cemetery. In 1946 me and my family went to visit my father鈥檚 grave and did so again in the 1980鈥檚 and on this second visit I noticed a new addition to the cemetery, a statue had been placed over the area where my father and his friend had been temporarily buried and the plaque on the side of it read 鈥淭hank you for preserving us during the war鈥�.

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