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My WARTIME BUSINESS by GENEVIEVE McKENNA
Transcribed by Stephen Mc Cauley

My bread man came in one day. He was a man called Willie Black. He came in, and I had a whole display out for a birthday party I was having for one of the youngsters, and he said to me, “Where did you get them?” I said “I made them.” He said “I didn’t know you could bake like that.” I said “You don’t know everything about me, Willie.” He said “But where do you get the stuff to do that?” I said “Jack went up over the border, up to Willie White’s up at Killea,” the big black hut they called it, “and you’ll get all you want there. He went up and got me a few items that I needed. I wrote out what I wanted and he brought them down. No trouble at all.” Eggs and everything. Eggs were another thing which was rationed. He said “Would you ever bake some for me...I’d be dying about things like that...would you ever do a couple of dozen of them for me?” and I said “Away out of that Willie, I’ve a house to look after and the youngsters!” I was married well before the war and one young fellow was born the year the war started, 1939. Phillip, he was born then. I had eight altogether, before, after and during the war. Well, he said, “I’d pay you for it and I’d pay for the stuff.” That was a different matter because at that time wages were very low and things were very dear and there were coupons for things. You could have gone over the border and bought things without coupons but for clothing and different things you had to have coupons. So, I said “I’ll see what I can do, Willie.” I must remark that there were no electric mixers or anything like that. That was unheard of. It was hand-beaten with a wooden spoon when you were beating anything. So, I said, “I’ll see what I can do Willie but don’t bank on it.”
So, I baked Willie a few dozen anyway and he wanted more and more. He brought me all the stuff in. He was bringing me more than I was using. I said “Now Willie, don’t be bringing me any more stuff ‘til I get this all used up.” He said “Sure if you don’t use it for me, use it for yourself.” So, the wee shops round and about, Mary-Anne Moore had a shop up there in the terrace and then there was a wee shop there at the corner too and they were looking for them. Do you know what I was earning before I stopped doing it? Over thirty pounds a week and my husband was on top wages in this town at that time. He was a shirt cutter and that was the top job for men in this town. There was no building or anything like that. The distillery was closed down and the shipyard was closed down. There was no work for men at all and he was a shirt cutter and his top wages were six guineas a week and I was topping that at thirty pounds.
[Background voice: “What happened to you after the war finished?”]
I was having wains. [Laughter] Not only that, but the men got their loads in from the bakeries and started baking again when the stuff was all de-rationed. They were all telling me I should’ve started a shop and started a wee bakery because I had cream horns and butterfly buns and I had madeleines which are wee tall hats, some people called them, rolled in jam and coconut and a wee cherry or something on top. I had wee cheesecakes, that was wee pastry cases with a spoonful of jam in them and the sponge mixture on top of that and a wee whole bored in the top of that and cream put in that to make it decorative. I had all these things. I had apple squares and things like that.
My son was in school in Rosemount at the time and his headmaster was Duffy. He was headmaster at the time and he was very great with Jack and he sent down a composition book of Phillip’s and I suppose he was about nine or ten years of age. He sent it down. He thought it was very funny. One composition, in particular, was on his mother. It said “My mother is big and fat,” I didn’t think I was fat then but anyway, “My mother is big and fat but she’s a very good cook and she feeds us well. She makes wee buns and she sells them to the public and, if there are any left over, we get them.” I have that composition to the present day.

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