91热爆

My father died just before I was born and my mother was left with three sons, Jack b1921, Frank b. 1924, Bob b. 1927. And me.

Widow鈥檚 pension was 10 shillings (50p) a week and no child allowance in those days. There were no social service people running around to help out, if you wanted to live you worked and my mother did just that. Initially, early morning office cleaning which enabled her to see us off to school, then working in an industrial canteen during the day and a restaurant during the evening.

There was not a lot of time for affection but there was always good food on the table as my mother had a great fear of us catching T.B. , a great scurge in those days, several neighbouring families had one or two members with this illness, which then was more or less a death sentence. We learnt to be independent, self reliant and well behaved. If we weren鈥檛, a cane was always kept handy.

Evacuation to a cottage near Felsted.

We now come to Sunday, 3rd September, 1939 and the evacuation of many children out of London. Bob and I were to be together and with our gas masks and a change of clothing we reported to our local school ( Noel Park Infants鈥� School, Wood Green), where teachers were waiting to supervise us onto red double decker buses. Where we were going or with whom we would be staying was, to us, an unknown factor, but I don鈥檛 remember being frightened or crying, I just accepted it. My now husband, who was already in the army, tells of being on Waterloo Station en route from Shoeburyness Garrison to Larkhill, Salisbury Plains with hundreds of young children, in small groups all with their gas masks and change of clothing. Some with small attache cases but the majority with brown paper parcels, some even with newspaper parcels. They were all quiet, all with sad, solemn faces but no tears. Were we a tougher breed in those days!

At last, all aboard the buses we moved off out of Wood Green into the open country, for miles and miles to be eventually off loaded at a school hall in a village we eventually learnt was Felsted, Essex. Here we waited to be picked up and taken away to what would be our new homes. Gradually the others were being whisked away, but Bob and I still waited. Maybe being two of us, a boy and a girl made housing us a little more difficult. Eventually we were put into a car and driven approx. three miles into the depth of the country to our new home, one of two small farm labourer鈥檚 cottages. Completely isolated at the end of a 300 yard drive off a small country lane. This was Nunn鈥檚 Farm (though now reverted back to it鈥檚 old name of Hole Farm). There were two rooms on the ground floor, the main living room fitted with a solid fuel kitchen range on which all the cooking was done, no gas or electric, room lighting was by oil lamp and candle. The kitchen table was also the dining table, during the week covered with newspaper, but on Sunday a white linen table cloth. There was no sink unit for there was no running water or drainage, water came from an outside pump which had to be primed and we were not allowed to touch as improperly use could pull up discoloured water. Washing and washing up was done in a bowl which was then emptied by being thrown over the garden. The floor was of flag stones laid directly onto the earth and covered with old flour sacks. The other room was more comfortably furnished but only used at Christmas and for the very occasional shooting party held by the farm owner.

Upstairs were three bedrooms, no bathroom or toilet. Baths were taken once a week in a tin bath in front of the range, the bath then emptied by hand and then over the garden. The toilet was some yards down the garden, a bucket privy. Somehow we just accepted all this and didn鈥檛 find it strange or unusual.

The occupants of the cottage were probably around 50 years old and we were told to call them auntie and uncle, his father known only as 鈥淲eary鈥� seemed to us as old as the hills but was probably 65 鈥�70, the last member was a nephew aged about 12, who had been adopted by them.

I remember auntie with long black hair which was tied back in a bun and her clothes were always ankle length. It was like going back to the early century I don鈥檛 supposed things had changed in that area for many decades.

Weary always sat on the same kitchen chair in the corner, wearing his cap and seldom speaking but occasionally quoting little two line poems such as:-

God made the mountains as slippery as glass
Down came the devil sliding on his a鈥︹��

There were many more, but I cannot remember them, all jewels of wisdom.

His main job in life was getting water and empyting the privy bucket

The first night I wanted to sleep with my brother, but was told Bob was sleeping with Dick in a double bed and I had a single bed in Auntie鈥檚 room. Weary had the third bedroom.

Going upstairs with just a candle and then alone in the dark in a strange room was not very pleasant, but I had to accept it and eventually became used to it. Before going to bed auntie washed us and I can remember her looking at my body and saying 鈥渙h. you poor thing鈥� I can only think this was because I was so thin, but all my family were thin 鈥� and I remained very thin until I was in my 40鈥檚. For the next 2 陆 years auntie spent her life trying to fatten me up, with no success. Meals were large, breakfast was a dinner plate full of porridge and two slices of bread (for an 8 year old). Lunch was sandwiches and our evening meal was a huge helping of potatoes and greens with some sort of meat, mainly stew and usually rabbit which uncle had shot and still had many of the pellets in the flesh which one would often bite on. Pudding was usually rice pudding, occasionally soft and moist but often solid and dry. At neither meal were we allowed to leave the table until all our food had been finished( our pudding was eaten off the same plate as the dinner was served). For me the meal times seemed to go on forever and even today the thought of eating rabbit makes me shudder. Needless to say, I haven鈥檛 eaten rabbit since.

Schooling.

After a while a school was arranged for us to attend at Crix Green Chapel a small building near Mole Hill Green approx. 2 miles from the farm. When the weather was fine we could cut across the fields and save a good 陆 mile, but if it was wet auntie insisted we kept to the road, to save our shoes from getting wet and muddy. There were about 30-40 pupils to start with and two or three teachers, but as time moved on children returned home and our numbers dwindled to ten or so children. I can remember some names:-

Reggie and Joan Merrill
Paul and Stanley Roden
Ted Atkinson and his brother

Our teacher was Miss Stephenson, who had to run this class with ages ranging from 6
to twelve ,as there were no text books and very little paper most of our work was mental. She was very enthusiastic about Negro Spirituals and with the aid of a little harmonium (which had to be pedalled furiously) in the corner of the chapel hall we spent hours learning and singing them.

Two of her favourite songs were 鈥淥 rest in the Lord鈥� and 鈥淥 for the wings of a dove鈥�.
Very difficult songs to sing. School work in the true sense was almost non-existent. She went home for lunch and we were all left on our own and unsupervised to eat our sandwiches. We had great fun playing with the large open fire which heated the hall. Our favourite trick was to tie someone near the fire and roast them. Thank heaven no one was ever hurt. We also amused ourselves beating out the notes on the harmonium.

Attending the village school

As the number of pupils reduced it was arranged that we attend the village school in Felsted, approx.2 陆 miles from the farm. I think we only attended for 6 鈥� 8 months as my brother was then 14 years old, school leaving age, so we both returned home to London as my mother didn鈥檛 want me to stay away by myself. It鈥檚 strange now to think that in those days the majority of children started work at 14 years old. Office workers did a 44 hour week, factory and manual workers 49 hours. Paid holidays were 7/14 days for office workers,7 days for the factory and for some, particularly the building trade none.

Time on the Farm.

On reflection we had a lot of fun on the farm, we were permitted to run wild and explore. Harvest time was great, as we were allowed help and during the cutting of the corn we would catch the rabbits running out and kill them by holding them by their back legs and a swift karachi chop to the back of the neck. I can鈥檛 believe I did that.

In the large corn storage barn we would go ratting when they were threshing, with a little fox terrier. The floor used to be swarming with rats and mice and I didn鈥檛 turn a hair. Though Weary did tell us not to get cornered by a rat.

Today I cannot believe we did this as a pastime, but to us on the farm it was the norm. Neither can I believe that every day, rain or shine, we walked by ourselves 4 miles and later 5 miles to school and to start with I was only 8 years old.

We also had great fun with the small river that ran at the bottom of the garden, catching tiddlers, building dams, just splashing about,but getting into trouble if we got our socks wet in the wellies. During the winter this river became a roaring torrent and use to badly flood the two fields it ran through. One winter the flood waters almost reached the privy! !

I visited the area a few years ago and this small river has unbelievably dried up and the river bed clogged up with wild irises and weeds.

Stress does happen.

I cannot remember being very sad or tearful being away from my mother, but there was a nervous re- action. For the first time I could remember I started bed-wetting. I used to dread getting home from school on a bed wetting day as I would get a very cool reception from auntie and I was so terribly embarrassed. I also developed a nose twitch and a nervous shrug of the shoulder, which I didn鈥檛 lose until I was nearly 20. The bed-wetting stopped as soon as I returned home.

Auntie looked after us well, we were kept clean and had plenty of plain food. I can鈥檛 remember any great feeling about leaving the farm but I know auntie was to miss us as she had become very fond of us and was sad to see us go 鈥� still terribly thin!

After the war I visited them on several occasions and always received a very warm welcome.

Back to London.

Early 1942, back home in Wood Green I was now turned eleven and I started senior school.at Noel Park Girls鈥� School . After 2 陆 years of very little instructive schooling it was surprising how quickly I caught up with my class mates and after a year came 2nd in a class of 42. I鈥檝e no doubt their schooling, too, had been disrupted due to the heavy bombing at that period,

The bombing had by now eased off considerably, few during the day and not too many at night, but I still found them pretty scary. At school, in the event of an air raid we were all marched to the stairs, where we sat until the all-clear went. We had no proper shelters, the stairs must have been considered the safest place in a three storey building. At home there was an Anderson shelter in the garden, but it was seldom used as my mother, who had remained in London, was by now unperturbed by a bombing raid. At night I always wanted to get up on hearing the air raid siren and my mother reluctantly would keep me company.

Even at that age I could differentiate between our planes and a German bomber, the engine noise was different a more deep throbbing noise. Our area in North London was not heavily bombed but I can still vividly remember the whistling noise of falling bombs and being very scared.

At last the bombing raids stopped , only to be followed by the V.1 (Buzz Bombs or Doodle Bugs) I hated those, first the siren, then the frightening drone of the jet propelled bomb getting closer and closer, then silence as the engine cut out and it started it鈥檚 slow glide down to the final target. That wait was awesome, for unless you could see the bomb you had no idea where it would strike, you just wanted the engine to keep going on passed you.

As the V1鈥檚 eased off Hitler launched his final deadly weapon, the V2 (the Rocket Bomb) against which there was no defence. These were launched somewhere in Belgian and Holland and would soar to a great height before starting it鈥檚 descent on London. Truly a devastating weapon as there was no warning only a tremendous explosion which could demolish a whole block of houses. You couldn鈥檛 be frightened because you could neither see them or hear them. One did land at the end of our road (Pelham Road) destroying many houses and killing several people.

I left school in October 1944, when I was l4 years old. I left school on a Friday and started work on the Monday. I worked as an office junior in a firm engaged in war work . My salary 拢1.2s.0d. (拢1.10 p) per week.

There were few air raids now, though one of the girls in the office failed to arrive one day, we learnt later she had been killed when her house was destroyed the previous night by a V2.

My brother Frank served in the Irish Guards and was taken prisoner,Jack served in the Fleet Air Arm. Fortunately both returned home safely after the war.

As the armies advanced further into Europe capturing and destroying the various launching sites, so the V1鈥檚 and V2鈥檚 slowly ceased their deadly flight.

At long last 8th May, 1945, the end of hostilities in Europe. Locally, I don鈥檛 remember any great festivities, we just carried on with life.

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