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This story was submitted to the People’s War site by Judy Foweraker of Callington U3A on behalf of David Silverstone and has been added to the site with his permission. The author fully understands the site’s terms and conditions.

David Silverstone. WW2 Memories. PART THREE

The war didn’t stop our education. In the early forties we were taught by, in today’s standards, viscous old psychos resentful at being denied the excitement of the war — and that was only the women! Violence, fear and intimidation dealt with discipline. Truants were dealt with bare arsed thrashing in front of the school at assembly. The object was to beat any self-esteem out of you. If you got into trouble, or were bullied, that was your problem to sort out on your own; you got no sympathy from adults. That’s how it was — harsh maybe but you knew where you were and somehow all the happier for it. Teenage pregnancies occurred then just as today, but girls mysteriously went “missing” and nothing was said. Likewise, we realized that some adults, like scoutmasters and choirmasters, were a bit “funny” towards us, but we simply kept away from them and nothing was said (or explained). A very different world to today.

The schools during the war turned out many illiterates. There never was a “golden age” when everyone was taught the three R’s. No one was much bothered because there was plenty of labour intensive employment available — unlike today. Dad was not well educated, but he had a deep respect for learning. Libraries were holy places to him and I also learned this love of books, and this was where you went for knowledge. In spite of the war and social upheaval, and unstable family life, most of us got educated and became ordinary kids, including those who were evacuated — uprooted to different places and societies. “Trauma” is a word invented by modern sociologists (or certainly not in anyone’s vocabulary at that time). Undoubtedly, people suffered and it may have left its mark on their lives, but it was no big deal at the time.

When our troops eventually overran the concentration camps in Europe, kid’s fathers on leave brought back photographs of what they found. This was well before public exposure. These photos got into the hands of us kids and were shared behind the bike sheds. This was my most harrowing memory of the war and deeply affected me at the time — and still does.

As I said memories of the war are very vague and insubstantial; after all, it was sixty years ago. For instance, Mother was in the Army Pay Corps at some stage, but where that fitted in I shall never know. Certainly Mum and Dad’s lives expanded to meet various opportunities.

In summary, the war was for all of us a time of tremendous social change, imposed in a short time. The old class structures broke down; family life was never the same again as our mothers swapped domesticity for the world of work during, and after, the war.

The worst of times for some; the best of times for many.

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