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15 October 2014
WW2 - People's War

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Brenda's war

by Gail Robinson

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Archive List > Childhood and Evacuation

Contributed byÌý
Gail Robinson
People in story:Ìý
Brenda May Miles, Dolly & Mark Hickman, Wendy Hickman
Location of story:Ìý
Borehamwood Herts
Background to story:Ìý
Civilian
Article ID:Ìý
A6017320
Contributed on:Ìý
04 October 2005

War Memories

My first memory of the war was walking to the bus stop with my Mum, sister, Aunt and cousins, to wave goodbye to my Dad, who looked very smart in his R.A.F. uniform. He worked on an airfield with Barrage balloons; these were huge silver balloons that stopped the enemy planes flying low to bomb their targets.
I was 7 years old when the war started and 13 when it ended. We lived in the village of Boreham Wood, all fields and trees, a wonderful playground for me, and my friends.
At the start of the war, everyone had an Anderson shelter put in the back garden, which to begin with every one slept in. Until one dark night a little field mouse crawled up my Mum’s pyjama leg, she screamed, I tried to hit it with a spanner and knocked the candle out, the only light in the shelter! It was very dark because of the blackout, no lights or streetlights where allowed so the enemy couldn’t find where to drop their bombs. My Mum took us back into the house and we never slept in the shelter again, she was more frightened of a little mouse than the bombs!
When I was at junior school each class adopted a ship, and we knitted balaclava helmets, scarves, gloves and socks as part of the ‘war effort’ to protect the seamen from the cold, I remember the wool was very greasy.
During the war the ladies had to work in the forces on the land or in the factories. My Mum worked in a factory, wearing overalls, these ladies where known as the ‘good old war workers’ and their overalls were like a uniform for them.
When I was 11 years old I went to the senior school, a very new and modern school with a bell tower, but with no bell in the tower. During the war bells were not allowed to be rung in schools or churches, because this was the signal that we were being invaded by the enemy.
Most Saturdays my Mum took my sister and I to a musical theatre in London, a real treat. We travelled home on the steam trains and underground. The people of London slept on the underground platforms on bunk beds to protect them from the bombs. It must have been very difficult sleeping with trains going by every few minutes.
When the air raid siren went off at night we watched the searchlights sweeping the skies for the enemy bomber planes, and they would try to shoot them down. A few fields from where we lived there was a big army gun nicknamed Big Bertha that made a lot of noise, and everyone would say Bertha’s firing and we would all feel safe.
During the war there was strict rationing, no nice foods or clothes and just one ounce of sweets a week!
Everyone listened to the radio for news of the war, because there where no televisions in those days. Families used to gather round the radio in the evenings to listen to the news.
During the war there were no nice fruits like bananas or oranges, if the greengrocer had some you had to queue for a long time hoping to get something. I spent a lot of time queuing and hoping but I was often disappointed.
Every road had a pig bin and all the waste foods was thrown into it, like potato peelings, old bread, any food that was waste. The local farmer would collect the waste, and boil it down to feed his animals.
Most people had chickens at the top of their gardens, which meant we had fresh eggs and roast chicken for Xmas dinner. My uncle next door bought a duck to fatten up for Xmas, my little cousin made him her pet named him Donald, he followed her everywhere, but when Christmas came Donald was killed for the Xmas dinner and we were all sad. Each year the farmer had a field of wheat or barley, at harvest time the wheat was cut and all the neighbours went to the field gleaning, picking up any grains or wheat that had fallen during the harvest, to feed the chickens.
We all had thick blackout curtains no lights were allowed to show. The air raid warden would patrol the streets to make sure no light showed, if there was a light he would knock on the door and say ‘put it out’.
During the war there were no toys. Close to where I lived there was a wood yard and you were allowed to take any of the scrap wood. I made myself a pair of stilts, and a trolley with 3 small wheels and one big one it was a bit wobbly. I had a dog named Patch, he enjoyed riding on the trolley with me. I used to chop wood into fire sticks for my Mum, and I used my trolley to collect the wood.
All the children played in the road, skipping, jumping, hop scotch, and my favourite rounders. There were very few cars as petrol was rationed.
At the start of the war everyone was issued with a gas mask, and we all carried them around in their little brown boxes.
There were only 2 or 3 bombs dropped near where I lived, you could hear the bomb making a loud whistle as it dropped and a bang as it blew up. There was one doodlebug fell quite close to us. They made a horrible droning noise, when the engine stopped they would drop and explode, these where flying bombs.
One evening looking out over the fields the skyline was red like a lovely sunset, it wasn’t the sun it was the Blitz of London, the Germans had bombed London Heavily and London was burning.
Then one wonderful day they said the war was over! The lady next door was so happy she threw all her saucepans up her garden, which made my Mum laugh…and Mum said ‘there go the saucepan lids’. Then when it was time to cook the dinner she had to go and get them all in again!
And so it was all over, the church bells and school bells rang all over the country. The ship that the children had knitted for gave us a huge crate of juicy oranges, enough for us all to have one each…delicious…
All the neighbours in our street took their tables and chairs into the street, which was very long, and put them in a line and we had sandwiches, cakes and ginger beer. And the lady who had thrown all her saucepans outside brought her piano out into the street and played songs and we all sang along to them and danced. There were bonfires all around the village, and it took a long time for me and my friends to run around them to see which were the biggest and the best. During the war there was a motto, if you cant do anything for the war effort help someone who can, and so with no parents around the neighbours looked after us as best they could, no one bothered to lock their doors, and there was always a front door key hanging on a string at the front door, you just slipped you hand through the letter box and pulled the string and key through.
The other big motto was dig for victory due to the food shortage every one did. I tried, I managed lettuce, radishes, and spring onions, but with no one to teach me how it wasn’t a very good effort.
With the clothing shortage people used jumble sales getting buttons zips and with a nice garment unpicked washed and pressed a good piece of material for a new outfit, all for a few pence.
If it was known that an apple tree was full with fruit the local kids would go scrumping I filled cy pockets and navy blue school knickers, very uncomfortable climbing down the tree, my dear school friend took a shopping bag, she was a serious scrumper.
I somehow learnt how to make toffee I made toffee apples and honey combe toffee it was very good but my Mum was furious with me, no one had sugar that week I had used the lot. That was the end of my toffee venture.
My Aunt lived in Hampshire and Mum took us there for a holiday the village was named Bramdean, a small village and the school had just one classroom catering for infants to school leavers, My Aunt’s house had no running water. You had to lower the bucket into the well for fresh spring water.
We had a days outing to Portsmouth the beach was barricaded with huge rolls of barbed wire preventing everyone getting on or off the beach. We went to the Port and watched a submarine, and battleship set sail for the war, the crew’s lined the ships and a band was playing.
My church minister recalls that all railway stations had the same name right guard soap, that must have caused a lot of confusion.
There was an Italian prisoner of war camp in Boreham Wood, the prisoners walked quite freely around the village and shops, strange prison, but they were no threat.
A few years after the war the Greater London Council bought all the land and built housing estates to house the overspill of Londoners and so all the beautiful fields, farms, and village life, went forever,

Brenda

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