ĂŰŃż´«Ă˝

A Schoolgirl in World War II 1939-1945

By Ann McKay

Introduction
I was born in 1931 at Hoylake, Wirral, on the Cheshire coast near Birkenhead and Liverpool. At the time my family had not yet recovered from World War I. My father had been a signaller in the Royal Navy and his brother had been in the R.F.C. — later the RAF. Both returned unscathed. My mother’s elder brother was in the Navy on the North Sea in constant danger from German submarines. Her younger brother was in the army trenches in Northern France and was in a gas attack which affected his lungs, but survived. His doctor sent him to the Yorkshire Dales to heal his lungs in the fresh, pure air there. He told my uncle that he must never have an indoor job again, so he couldn’t go back to his job as a bank clerk. My mother’s three cousins were also in World War I and the eldest died of war wounds in his legs, which had become gangrenous, at the end of the War in autumn 1918. His mother died of the Pandemic Influenza, which killed millions, shortly afterwards. My mother was at college in London during the First World War and was in the German Zeppelin air raids over London. They had to take refuge in the college cellars.

Understandably, the rise to power of Hitler filled my family with hatred and foreboding. My mother felt she should never have had my sister and I. I well remember as a small girl hearing veterans playing violins in the street to earn enough money to eat. They had never had a job since they came back from World War I.

In 1938 we entertained a Jewish refugee from Austria, a Doctor Roger, who had fled from Nazi persecution. He was a cultured man and I sat quietly listening to him. When my mother asked me: “What do you think of Hitler, Ann?” I screwed up my nose, which amused him hugely.

War Comes in 1939
After a great many hopes were raised and dashed again war was finally declared on September 3rd, 1939. We were on holiday at Youlgreve in Derbyshire at the time. I clearly remember hearing Mr. Chamberlain’s announcement over the radio and thinking: “Well, it’s come”. I was only seven at the time.

We were all issued with gas masks. Because the Germans had used gas in World War I, we thought that was the first thing they would do in 1939. Thankfully, this never happened, but we all carried our gas masks everywhere, including back and forth to school. They were never used and got very battered, but they were only replaced once during the whole war.

One of the biggest deprivations which struck me at that age was not being able to get chocolate out of the penny-in-the-slot machine! The sight of the empty machine was most depressing and frustrating! However, because of a well-organised Government rationing scheme we never went short of food and were able to get sweets “on points” from our ration books. I remember that children under five had Green Books; 5-14’s (like me) had Blue Books, and over 14’s and adults had Buff Books. The Green and Blue Books were allowed more of certain things than the adult ones. I remember when a rare consignment of oranges came into our local greengrocer’s shop I got six on my blue Book; the rest of the family on Buff Books got none! I was a growing girl! Bananas were almost unobtainable throughout the war.

Bread was never rationed during the war, but after the war when the American food was diverted to the liberated countries in Europe, bread was put on the ration for the first time, especially during the very snowy winter of early 1947, when we couldn’t even get potatoes out of the ground. Our greengrocer’s shop was completely empty during one week that winter. When I consider our well-stocked supermarkets today, that is a sight I shall never forget!

The Blitz
We were living from 1936-1945 near Birkenhead and Liverpool. When the Blitz started in 1940 these cities were heavily bombed because the enemy wanted to destroy their docks and put their ports out of action. I remember seeing Birkenhead in flames — it was only seven miles away. Night after night the droves of enemy bombers came over — we recognised them by the distinctive throb of their engines. We also had the noise all around us from our anti-aircraft guns. We slept under the stairs on a straw mattress as we had been told that was the safest place to be. At school we often spent all day in the school shelters as the raids were almost continuous at one point. We sang: “Ten Green Bottles” and “Twelve Men Went to Mow” and other songs to keep up our spirits.

My father was an A.R.P. Warden. He had to go to the Children’s Convalescent ĂŰŃż´«Ă˝ (we were by the seaside on the Cheshire Dee) and had to help carry the children down to the basement. After the “All Clear” sounded they had to carry them all back to bed again. One night there were two raids so the whole operation had to be repeated. He was up all night. We missed so much sleep that m mother decided to take my sister and I away to Clitheroe in Lancashire into a safer area. On the two nights that Manchester had incendiary raids we could see the glow in the sky 30 miles north at Clitheroe. We them moved to a rented house in Blackburn.

Bereavement
It was while we were at Blackburn that the news came in October 1941 that my mother’s favourite nephew, who was a Spitfire Pilot and had survived the Battle of Britain, was missing presumed killed on a sortie over the French coast near Le Touquet. I well remember the devastating effect this had on my mother and his parents. My parents never forgot the date he was posted missing, 2nd October 1941. Recently my sister found out what happened. He had been shot down over the French coast near Le Touquet by a new and powerful enemy fighter, the Fw 190, which the spitfire could not out-manoeuvre as it had done the Messerschmidt 109. He was seen to go down in flames and bail out, but neither plane nor body was ever found. His name is on the Memorial at Runnymede for those who have no known grave, and also on the Memorial at his college, Oriel College Oxford. He had interrupted a promising degree course to join the Oxford Air Squadron and never graduated. My parents kept his photograph on their mantelpiece to the end of their lives.

His younger brother was a Navigator in a Mosquito and served in North Africa and Italy. He was in an air crash, but survived the war. He married a W.A.A.F. nurse whom he met just prior to demob.

The Tide Turns
After Hitler attacked Russia in 1941 and turned his attention away from bombing Britain, we returned home to West Kirby, Cheshire. My father had been an Air Raid Warden, performing his duties as a church organist whenever possible. He was now drafted into war work as a civilian on the local RAF camp at West Kirby. This was a transit camp for those going overseas. We had many nationalities on the camp: Canadians, Rumanians, Poles, Free French from Algeria, Czechs, etc. My father was a clerk to the Education Officer. When they found out he was a Doctor of Music and an organist and pianist he was asked to take charge of the musical entertainment. He gave record recitals (on the old 78 records) to the “lads”. The Group Captain in charge of the camp, Group Captain Jones, was an accomplished pianist and he performed piano concertos by Mozart, Beethoven, Schumann, etc. on a grand piano in the Methodist Chapel in a hangar on the camp. My father filled in the orchestral parts on the organ — no easy task. The RAF personnel of all ranks flocked in to hear “Groupie” and “Doc” play. My mother and sister and I also attended. We also had the soon-to-be-famous pianist Dennis Matthews, through the camp — a lowly LAC at the time. He also performed for us. During 1942-1943 the American soldiers arrived in Britain and some were billeted at Hoylake, the next town. We children fount out that if we said: “Got any gum, chum?” they would hand out chewing gum to us. It became quite a game! So the Americans added to the many nationalities in the Liverpool area in the armed forces.

Just about this time we began to get the Flying bomb attacks. These did not reach as far as us, but my grandma and auntie, living in Morden, Surrey, were bombed out. They were luckily in the shelter in the garden, but the shock caused my grandma to get pneumonia. They cured this with the new drug “M&B” which they had given to Winston Churchill the previous year. It saved his life.

The rest of the war was quite a lively, social time meeting people from all over the world. Among these was my Canadian cousin from Ottawa, Gordon McCullagh, who was a Flying Instructor at Sealand Aerodrome, and often came to stay with us. We attended the orchestral concerts, given on a Saturday afternoon because of the bombs and the blackout, at the Liverpool Philharmonic Hall by the Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra whose conductor was Malcolm Sargent. We heard many famous artists, including Dame Myra Hess, Clifford Curzon, Solomon etc.etc.

D-Day 1944
After the Americans arrived we began to expect what we then called “The Second Front”: i.e. the invasion and liberation of France and the rest of Europe. In 1944 the rumours of the imminence of “The Second Front” grew. On Tuesday, June 6th, 1944, I returned from school for lunch as we did in those days. My mother said: “They’ve landed” and I jumped for joy. Our daily paper published a map every day showing the allied advances across France, Belgium, Holland and into Germany. I shaded these advances on my atlas in pencil every day and watched every advance and occasional retreat very closely and with increasing excitement. When we heard of the liberation of the Concentration Camps we rejoiced, although the sights we saw on the cinema newsreels of the walking skeletons and the piles of dead skeletons were terrible. I shall never forget them. We rejoiced to hear of the death of Hitler and other members of his “crew”.

V.E. Day
I remember when VE Day was announced by Winston Churchill there was great relief and rejoicing. I was 13 at the time and my friend and I danced in the park. The biggest thrill was the end of the blackout. No more putting up the blackout frames at all the windows every night! The local Council had installed new electric lights for the occasion (some of the side streets still had gaslights up to 1939). We all went to the village especially to see the lights turned on at last. No more fumbling in the dark with a dimmed-out torch!

There was a Victory Parade through the village and we watched the men and women of the army, navy and airforce, with allied personnel included, march past. We felt very proud.

The golf links had been mined at the outbreak of war to stop the enemy landing on our beached nearby. These mines were detonated one day and we heard one explosion after another.

Rationing did not end with the war, and, as I have said, the food situation got worse for a while. Eventually various foods came off the ration over several years, after the war. The last thing to come off the ration was butter in 1954! By this time I was on a Buff Ration Book and I kept my last one as a souvenir!

There were memorable times I lived through, and I am one of the lucky ones to survive to tell the tale.

VJ Day 1945
After the war in Europe was over we thought it would be some time before the war in the Far East was won, but because of the atomic bomb and the destruction of Hiroshima, Japan surrendered. VJ Day was celebrated on August 15th, 1945. We were living at Stockport by that time and we joined the crowds outside the Town Hall. I remember there was a drunken sailor perched perilously on one of the Town Hall window ledges! I remember it took a long time for the forces in the Far East to return home. It took far longer for them to get over what they had been through, and, indeed, some of them never have.

© Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.