大象传媒

The answer is not much about the actual war! However I am told that I was born during an air raid at Oldchurch Hospital in Romford in December of 1943. Apparently my mum nearly had hysterics and kept insisting that they move her bed away from under the window!

My dad was a Sargeant in the Home Guard, and travelled up and down to his job in the City via train. He said it wasn't much fun getting stuck midway between stations when the sirens went off with no way of letting my mum know if he was all right. Of course there were no such things as mobile phones in those days.

When my mum went to the hospital on December 1st for a regular pre-natal check up, she was kept in because I was ready to pop out! I wasn't due for another two weeks, so when dad came up to collect her to go home, he was told that his wife had just given birth to a lovely little girl. Dad was very surprised and immediately stated, "Well, that's not what she came in for!" to which the nurse replied, "Well what did she come in for then?" and laughed! He told me later that he was so glad to have a little girl, someone who couldn't be sent to fight in a war in the future! He also said I didn't look like the other babies, I was all peaches and cream and the other babies were red and wrinkled. I think he must have been a very doting father - or I had slight jaundice!

I remember visiting my dad in East Grinstead where he went for reconstructive surgery on his face, after having part of his jaw bone shattered by flying shrapnel while fire watching. It was towards the end of the war, but I don't know how old I was. It it is a vivid memory. As I was born with a cleft palate, I myself had to have surgery at nine months old in St. Thomas' Hospital in London. Mum has told me that my surgery was the very first really successful one to correct this defect. At this time my dad was still in East Grinstead and mum relied heavily on neighbours to take her to one hospital or another for visiting. Not many people had cars in those days. However, it was a time when everyone helped everyone out whenever they could.

I do remember after the Atom Bomb was dropped in Japan! I know now that it was in August 1945. I was sitting by the fireplace making little pellets out of dry bread, rolling them up and placing them on the hearth. When asked by my mother what I was doing, I replied (and I remember this very very clearly) that they "were Atom bombees!

Of course, I have lots of memories about rationing. Our ration books had to be taken on holiday with us and given to the local butcher in Brixham, Devon, so we could buy meat. I'll never forget seeing an old empty and rusted chocolate vending machine outside the bakers' in Collier Row Road. I passed it every day on my way to school when I was about five, and marvelled as to how it would be possible to put money (an Old Penny) into the machine and get a whole big bar of Cadbury's Milk Chocolate for your very own with no points! Mum told me she remembered when these chocolate machines were everywhere! I thought this was amazing. Sweets at home were given out very sparingly, as of course they were "on the ration". It was a great treat when a neighbour gave me one of her precious lemon sherbets from time to time! I remember the first Christmas that sweets came off the ration! I had a whole box of Cadbury's milk tray to myself from my Uncle Ted. It had a padded picture of a country cottage on the box. I can remember feeling sick though, after eating too many.

Of course clothing was on the ration too, and therefore I had many "new" clothes cut down from hand-me-downs of my mother's. I think she may have sacrificed a lot from her own wardrobe so that her little girl could look nicely dressed. Mum was quite a good dressmaker, using her old Singer Sewing Machine circa 1903! Luckily our neighbour's husband was a salesman for a cloth manufacturer and many a small end piece ended up as a dress or a night gown for yours truly. My mother made hair ribbons out of smaller oddments, and I had more hair ribbons than any other girl in my class because of our neighbour's generosity. The very very small pieces weren't wasted either. I used these to make doll's clothes for my collection of plastic Rosebud dolls. (By the way "cuddly toys", were stuffed with sawdust in my day!)

Finally, although I can't ever remember hearing one as a child, the sound of an air raid siren even now sends chills through me. It must be a latent memory.

Wouldn't it be wonderful if there were never any wars again - in our dreams....