大象传媒

I am known as Nancy and I was born Berns in 1923. I was about 15/16 when war broke out.
There was 9 in the family and one of my brothers Tom knocked on the door and always ever dramatic, he said 鈥淎rise ladies and do your duty. Your Country鈥檚 at War鈥�, and Ellen and I were daft. We thought we鈥檇 run to the window, like the films and you鈥檇 see all the soldiers marching down Clowes Street and of course nothing happened for yonks.

I was living at Great Clowes St, Higher Broughton, Salford. I was hairdressing at Lewis鈥�. My first real memory was when the blitz was on in town and Lewis鈥� wasn鈥檛 hit. We went to go to work the next morning, it was after Christmas, I think and we got to Victoria bus station okay and then instead of going straight up Market St as usual, we were diverted round Deansgate and round St Anne鈥檚 Square because of different buildings that were damaged. I can remember in St Anne鈥檚 Square particularly, there was a Gentleman鈥檚 Outfitters and the stand was on the pavement with the suit on. And when we got up to Market Street there was a guinea gown shop and they were all over the pavements and you were guided round, I think by wardens up to Lewis鈥�. We went in but there was no business and we went up to the hairdressing and the manager was very aggravated because someone had the cheek to phone in to make an appointment but they wouldn鈥檛 know from a distance how town was. We just all wandered around a bit before we went home.

We sheltered in the cellar under the stairs when air raids were on.
We were 9 children. 3 older brothers were in the war and they came back. Mother called them her sun, moon and stars. Chris was in the Highland Division.

A Poem called Christy Berns

鈥淲ith his chestnut hair and and sparkly eyes,
he wasn鈥檛 tall, yet a giant and wise.
And if you wanted a hand he was always there.
Been blown up in the war how could he survive,
but his comrades all cheered when he walked back alive.
Served for six years and in spite of all fears,
he came home to keep on with the rest of his peers.
At his strong old bench with the vice at one end,
chisels and a glue pot, he would fashion and mend.
Tools of all kinds, nails and screws by the score,
shavings and woodchips all over the floor.
Now to conclude as we come to the end of this tale
of this good man, this wood man, my brother, my friend鈥�.

I was called up to Metropolitan Vickers in Trafford Park. I wasn鈥檛 in the main building. I was in maybe, third Street in a low building and we were engraving onto Traffolite which is like a very hard plastic, probably one of the first plastics. It was black and white in the middle, so as you engraved lettering the needle pricked out the letters onto the traffolite and they were used as labels for items being sent to Russia because Traffolite was durable. If you looked in through the doors of the building it was dark yet all the machines were covered with green lights so it looked amazing to see all these machines with people bending over them with peaked hats on and the green light. I was there until I married and had a child and left. It was awful working there I didn鈥檛 like it. It was night work, a fortnight on nights and a fortnight on days, so you never got balanced. You just got used to nights and then you were back on days. Yet the girls were good mates. We worked 7pm until 7am. I always remember the nights mostly. They were long hours. We had a workers playtime and there was a stage and there must have been some music because someone was always getting up and having a bit of a song. We had one woman who always used to sing Green Trees.

A plane came down a bit away and down the road about a mile, the library was blown up. There was bombing down Bury New Rd. There was a pub on the corner and hundreds in a shelter and it was bombed and that was bad. We sheltered under the stairs of our house. If the sirens went in town, there was a shelter by Victoria Station near the river and everybody flocked there. We had to do drills at Lewis鈥� in case the sirens went and you all went down to the sub basement.

We went to the pictures a lot. I liked the pictures and there was a raid once at the Rialto but it was only an incendiary bomb. It came onto the roof but it was dealt with because there were fire fighters on guard all of the time. I though how lucky. It could have been a bomb but it was only an incendiary. So it was dealt with and the lights came up and he went on the stage and said there has been an incident but we will carry on and that was all.

Mother was a wizard with the rations. She used to get brisket because she said there was eating and drinking on that. We had enough to eat.

鈥淥n D Day I was 21 and because I was married and waiting for my baby the following October, I was sitting with my mother. We were listening to the 大象传媒 on the Radio and with a commentator, they were transmitting sounds of the trucks being landed from the boats that had taken them across the sea to Normandy. You could hear the crashing of the landing platform ready for men and trucks to disembark. With all the sounds and the good reporting, one could get a very good picture of the scene. All of our men were in the services. My mum had three sons. John in Burma, Tom, well overseas somewhere, was the current phrase because security. The signs everywhere told you 鈥榗areless talk cost lives鈥�. And Chris we knew was amongst all those boys who were landing at that time. All her sons came back from the war due I am sure to a mother鈥檚 prayers. When Television came into our lives I was truly grateful that Tele did not exist on that day for I would not have liked to see my mother鈥檚 face had she been watching the events of the time unlike present days when there are no holds barred鈥�.

I remember VE Day and one of the boys was coming down the street and he called 鈥榠t鈥檚 over鈥� but for the mothers with boys still out there fighting it wasn鈥檛 quite yet. It was wonderful for the most people I suppose but not for all people because it wasn鈥檛 quite there yet you know. VJ Day was more exciting because you had come to the end of it for everybody鈥檚 sake.

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