My brother was only 6 weeks old
when war was declared, so my mother was excused from war
work. My dad worked at Handley Pages, (not sure
that I spelled that correctly) the aircraft factory in
Cricklewood. He cycled form our home in Fulham, 10
miles I believe. He was on the maintenance
team. Some nights he had to do firewatching there
as well.
My mother saw how badly some
evacuees were treated and was determined not to be
separated from us. We did stay with my grandmother
in Mevagissey, Cornwall for 6 months. The bombing
seemed to settle down and my grandmother made it clear we
were unwelcome. My mother got us jobs as extras at
a film they were making, "Johnny Frenchman"
starring Pat Roc. It was a story about a feud
between Cornish fisherman and French fisherman over the
pilchard fishing, to get our fare back to London. I
was 8 years old at the time. We spent most of the
war in London. If the bombing was bad, we went into
my aunt's basement. I think my grandmother was in
London early in the war, as I remember she had an
Anderson shelter in her backyard that we went in.
One night we had been inside to go to the bathroom.
The bombing got very bad. We had a problem getting
back in the shelter as my grandmother was fat and got
stuck in the doorway.
One of my vivid memories of going
to school in London in the war was gas mask
practice. I had a bright red one that was especially
for young children. I was terrified of it. At
school I was usually very meek and law abiding.
When it came to gas mask drill I hid in the
lavatories. When my brother was a baby he had a
contraption that he was put in that someone had to
pump. I was always worried because our cats didn't
have gas masks.
Valerie
I was born in Fulham, London, at 67
Rosaville Road. My brother and sister were born there
too. Our family Doctor, Doctor Walters delivered us. He
was a real family doctor. When my dad was out of work he
told him not to worry - to pay him when he could. He took
a real interest in our family. He had a practice in
Fulham (poor working class area then, but now gentrified
with trees in the street and some windows have bars on
them) and a practice in wealthier Barnes. He also worked
at the London Clinic sometimes. My sister was 5 years
older than me and when she started school I caught
everything at 11 months old. Measles, Bronchitis and
finally pneumonia. No antibiotics back then. They had a
kettle steaming and waited for the crisis. Apparently Dr.
Walters came and took it in turns to walk the floor with
me. I guess that toughened me up. I was seldom sick after
that and had just about perfect attendance in
school.
We had the bottom half of a small
Victorian terrace. Just two rooms and a kitchen I
believe. I clearly remember my brother being born. I
guess it was traumatic. There was some nurse person who
went around carrying a large white enameled jug. She
stood me in front of the sink and tried to get me to wash
my hands and I remember hiding them behind my back and
refusing. At another part the old lady, Mrs. Henley, who
lived upstairs was minding me and I fell down the steep
stairs. I refused to let anyone look at my back, so they
took me into my mother in bed and I remember lying over
her knees while she examined my back. Later there was a
lot of excitement and they took me in to see my mother.
There was this "thing" with a lot of black hair tucked in
beside her in the bed. The nurse was still swinging the
large enamel jug. I remember thinking "Is this what all
the fuss is about," or something similar. However, my
brother and I were very close friends as we grew up. He
was only 59 years when he retired and died suddenly
(heart attack) the next day. I still miss him at times,
especially when I'm buying birthday cards and I see the
sign, "Brother."
When I was 5 years old we moved to
35 Rosaville Road. We had so much space. My parents
really worked on that house and made it beautiful. They
even papered the ceilings. My dad left school at age 12
years as his mother needed him to work, (I'm afraid I
remember her as being cold and selfish) but he could do
anything in the house. He ran a multipoint geyser for the
kitchen and bathroom - I remember writing about this
before. I had the most wonderful caring parents and feel
I was so lucky.
When I was 12 years the old lady
who owned the properties died and occupants were given
first choice to buy them - they were rent controlled so
would have been hard to sell. My parents could afford a
deposit and borrowed $20.00 from an aunt for the lawyer's
fee. I remember the mortgage was $4.00 a month which
seemed a lot by by the time I was 18 years they paid by
the year, in case they forgot. Fulham was a close
neighborhood and a good place to grow up. We had a tiny
back yard but my dad grew tomatoes, broad beans, lettuces
etc. My mum love flowers so we had flowers too. My lovely
mum was super-gifted. She left school at age 15 years as
that was all the education available to her, but she
could read and write really well and spell anything. She
was particularly good with figures. When we were older
she got a job as a filing clerk at Lyons, the tea people,
but eventually worked on a computerized
payroll.
When I was in my early 20's, back
from college, 1960s I think, Britain was allowing large
numbers of immigrants as they needed people to drive
buses etc. and some people from South Africa moved next
door. There were about a dozen people but no children.
Some worked day shift and some night shift, so I guess
they shared beds.
My parents were quite frankly
terrified, sold the house and moved to East
Sheen.
My parents were very protective.
There was no way they would have just let us go off (
to be evacuated) without one of them with us. When
war was declared in September 1939, my dad took us (my
mum, 3 month old brother, Ken, 3 year old me and 8 year
old sister, June) down to stay with my grandmother in
Mevagissey, Cornwall. She has a cottage on Cheese Warn
Farm there. Auntie Edna and her 6 month old daughter,
Jacqueline came too. After 6 weeks nothing seemed to be
happening, so we all went back to London.
At one point, Mum, Ken and I went
back to stay with Granny again. My brother was around 5
years old, so it must have been in 1943 or 1944. My
parents allowed my sister, June, to be evacuated with her
school to Midhurst (Lady Margaret School), but she was so
homesick that she came to Mevagissey as well.
My grandmother made it quite clear
we were unwelcome. Jacqueline and her mother were there
as well and it was quite obvious that she preferred them
to us. Granny always gave Jacqueline the skin off the
rice puddings. It was considered that my father had
married beneath him and as a child I never understood
why. My mother was so pretty and so gifted. They were a
well suited and loving couple. One day a German plane
dropped some bombs near Mevagissey and on another day a
plane machine gunned my grandmother and sister as they
were crossing a field. Fortunately no one was hurt, but
my mother had had enough. "If we are going to die," she
said, "we'll be together as a family." A film was being
made in Mevagissey called "Johnny Frenchman," starring
Pat Roc. My mother applied and got jobs for herself, my
brother and I, as extras. It was really well paid. I seem
to remember my mother saying 10 shillings a day." Auntie
Edna applied for her self and Jacqueline, but was
refused. My mother saved up our fares and back to London
we went. If air raid siren went, we went to my aunt's
basement at the end of the street. At one point when the
bombing was bad we went to Piccadilly Circus underground
and spent the night there. My Aunt was a regular there
and had some reserved bunks. Her house had been bombed
and she was too afraid to sleep anywhere else. Some
nights American Service men got off the trains. They
seemed to be a different race, tall and suntanned young
men. They were upset to see children in the subway and
showered us with chocolate and gum. We probably looked
like pale little waifs to them.
Valerie
I guess my experiences were
different to most. I was barely 3 years when war was
declared on Germany on September 2, 1939. I was only
evacuated for 6 months, with my mother and brother, as
she would not let us go to strangers. I remember being
frightened at times, but I don't remember feeling we only
had the basic necessities. My parents was very clever and
creative. I remember my mother knitted and sewed clothes
for us. My dad grew vegetables in our small back garden.
We didn't have many toys, but we treasured what we had.
My favourite dolls were given to my mother by the
Salvation Army when she was a child - Susie (a china
doll) and Gypsy. Gypsy was a brown, velvet Norah Wellings
doll. She might be quite valuable if my brother hadn't
drawn boobs on her with red crayon. I still have them.
(The poor dears could use some new clothes.) My dad made
us a blackboard and easel. He made me a doll house and my
brother a fort. At point they managed to get my sister
and I new dolls. I never really cared for mine. At one
time a little girl at school was crying because her house
had been bombed, with all her dolls. I asked my mother if
I could give her one of mine. Well, the only one I could
bear to part with was the new one. I felt guilty because
everyone said I was a wonderful to give away my brand new
doll, but I wasn't attached to it anyway.
I consider myself fortunate in many
ways to have been born at the time that I did. Children
today seem to have so many material possessions. In
America they don't seem to have much time to just do
nothing.
Valerie