大象传媒

I was only 14 when the war broke out. I was working at Courtaulds silk factory in the office when the alarm/siren went off for us to get in the dugouts. To do this the easiest way was to go outside to the golf course and around through the trees where the dugouts were. Before we got there this plane came straight across Braintree and machine-gunned us. It went right across the town but no-one ws hurt. The foreman, who was a rather large man with a big paunch, flung himself down into the sand (probably a bunker) and left his mark - a large indentation. We all laughed when we saw it, it took away the tension.

I left Courtaulds after 2 years and went to Crittalls. They originally made windows and still do today but during the war it was shells and ammunition boxes. The German planes were dropping landmines all around Brtaintree - they were after Crittalls and all the big factories but they missed their target. They hit houses and the little streets: Coggeshall Road, East Street, Albert Road and Manor Street - they were all gone, they took the brunt. My aunt's house in Coggeshall Road went, just the chimney was left. She lost everything. She was wearing Uncle Alf's pyjamas and his top hat (she was a bit of a wag) but they did lose almost everything they owned. The family was split up. Two of my cousins lived with us in the front room, the rest of the family went to other relations. There was a young couple, the girl and an RAF man, her boyfriend, killed in that same road and a young boy about 13 in his bed killed by shrapnel.

My husband to be was in the Coldstream Guards and I watched to see if the postman was coming to my house every day. Obviously he made it and became my husband.

If anyone was ill, on holiday or away from the teleprint (top of the range in technology) in the London office, I used to go and take over - it was the offices of Crittalls with factories all over the world. I had the time of my life. I was a country girl turned loose. I'd never been out of Braintree before. The longest I stayed was about one month - we went to the pictures, dancing, meals out etc. The bombing got so bad that my Dad phoned up and said that I was to come home but I didn't go. I was having too good a time. He came to get me. I was so disappointed.

While I was in London an American stopped me and asked me the way somewhere. I can't remember where but I said I couldn't direct him but it was on the way to my hotel and I could show him the way. We got talking. He wanted to see me again and I told him where I worked but I was only there for a short time. I must have told him the Braintree Crittalls address too. When I went to work back in Braintree one morning he was standing outside the gate. He said 'Hi y'all' but I ignored him. Then after a minute or two I realised who he was. We became friendly - it was very different then, we didn't think about sex, we were really just friends. He used to come to my parents house and have tea and we went to the pictures, dancing and whatever we could do - we would walk miles. Usually he came Saturdays if he could - he was on a pioneer course, the ones who built the aerodromes, lving in tent camps. One Saturday he didn't come. Four of his fellow officers drove up to our house in a jeep. They told me he'd been killed, that he'd shot himself. They asked how he had seemed. There was a court Open Verdict, all hush-hush (I didn't go, they told me later). They thought he had accidentally shot himself while cleaning his gun. My father said 'there'll be no more boys coming here until you make your mind up'.

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