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Cub scouts became an interest and I joined the 2nd North London, 1st London Caledonians meeting at the High Cross congregational church Tottenham and for many years I spent a happy time as Cub, Scout and Rover Scout, not only being taken to Elstree studios to be filmed digging a garden for the dig for victory campaign but taking part in gang shows under the guidance of Ralph Reader after he returned home from wartime activities. A highland broadsword danced on the stage of the Albert hall was I suppose the height of my stage career. I can still remember “Riding along on the crest of a wave “ being rehearsed at Bruce Grove Tottenham with Sir Ralph.
But I digress. Health as a youngster was one of pot luck, we all caught the normal infections and the nit nurse came round the school to inspect heads. The authorities thought it necessary that as we were being deprived of sunshine due to spending so much time in air raid shelters that us kids would attend the local health centre (Whitehart Lane) sit in a circle with only our pants or knickers on wearing goggles whilst being exposed to a sun ray lamp. The efficacy of this treatment escapes me. I do know that at one time there seemed to be rather a number of children with impetigo and mothers hearing of the wonderful powers of a new cream (vitamin B I think) made demands upon their doctors. Colds were treated of course with that cure all syrup of figs. Vick spread liberally on the chest and up the nose was cold and cough relief, a towel on the head over a bowl of steaming hot water and drops of Friars Balsam produced vapours inhaled for freeing blocked sinuses. Camphorated oil rubbed into the chest was an added treatment. A dose of whooping cough was followed by a period during which it was the practice to follow the road repairmen and their tar spreading vehicle from which the vapours worked miracles on the lungs. Sties and whitlows were allowed to pursue their normal course and boils were treated when they reached perfection by applying a heated but empty beer bottle to the affected area and waiting for it to cool thus creating a gradual vacuum oooh! Teeth could be extracted by tying a thin cord around the tooth and thence to a door knob — patience was eventually rewarded. As far as I can remember visits to or from the doctor was a rare occurrence, which certainly applied when it was an emergency such as Scarlet fever, which when diagnosed meant the disgrace of the neighbours seeing the special ambulance collecting the afflicted who was transported to an isolation hospital for a short period. The ambulance mans entrance to the house as far as I can remember was through a screen of blankets soaked in antiseptic. Isolation was not too bad, just a couple of weeks spent in the relative comfort of an isolation hospital with plenty of physical activities such as football. Parents were viewed through glass panels when they visited.
As war progressed the never ending air raids and resulting damage passed and was met and accepted as part of life, the occasional near miss or missing houses was noticed on the way to school, but was only noted. Large areas of devastation such as that at Asplin road where a block of houses bordering four streets were suddenly no more, was talked about and to us kids was a site which would warrant future examination for souvenirs.
It was now time for me to take the 11 plus which gave me the chance to attend Tottenham County Grammer school at High Cross. This meant a walk of some 2 miles to school through new areas to me. At one time I had to walk through Stoney South which had suffered a terrible bombing raid, a number of blocks of houses had been demolished, survivors as well as non survivors were being brought out to waiting ambulances. All that remained standing intact was a public house for as far as the eye could see in the early morning smoke haze of still burning fires.
When at school if an air raid siren sounded we all had our respective places to go and seek shelter. I can remember at one time our shelter was the downstairs girls cloakroom and being seated on slatted wooden seats, trying to concentrate on the lesson whilst listening to the sounds outside and keeping everything crossed. This cloakroom had windows on two sides ! Air raid warnings, which were of the wailing type affected me for years, even when I married and later moved to a rural district in 1961 an area where they used the air raid warning siren as an alert for retained fireman. On hearing the warning I wanted to run and hide, this need has remained with me to this day.
As the war progressed air raids became less frequent, we children had time to play outside, usually on street corners. Th would be the meeting place for games such as jimmy- jimmy knacker, British bulldog, Knock down ginger, Paper, Scissors, Stone. Flicksies with cigarette cards up against the house wall. A game involving stones and a tennis ball as well as gobs or five stones. These games seemed to be seasonal and we were never bored. Skipping with long skipping ropes across the road where all of us kids were joining in and escaping out of the swing of the rope. Individual skipping by the most accomplished that usually being girls and efforts at hop scotch were some of the alternatives, when the dark evenings came and one was in the mood then door knockers from one side of the road to the other could be joined together by cotton the resulting reaction when a pedestrian or cyclist passed by was met with approval by ones mates. There was the opportunity to join gangs and I became a member of the “Rubble Runners” so called because we could run the fastest across areas of devastation and areas of rubble left as a result of the bombing. But this activity was usually carried on at the area near to where I lived known as “the flats”. These were local areas spreading for some distance composed of multi-storey flats and often subject to bomb damage.
Christmases during wartime were very quiet and presents left by Father Christmas often were hand me downs or had been used before.
Entertainment was the wireless and cinema. I had the task of taking the family wireless accumulator to the shop to be recharged. Radio or wireless was something the whole family listened to. Dick Barton special agent. ITMA and family favourites amongst others was eagerly listened to by all family members. As a inquisitive youngster I found that a radio could be made using a crystal and cats whisker with the bed spring as an Aerial, this led in later years to an interest in amateur radio.
Central heating was almost unheard of, a fire was usually alight in the living room during the day, being cleared each morning and re-lighted. If the fire was a kitchen range type which could be used for cooking on, then it had to be cleaned and black leaded on a regular basis. During the winter months the fire and radio became the centre of family life and I can remember water bottles being prepared for us to take to bed and snuggling down under blankets and eiderdowns, listening to my home made radio; In the morning taking the water bottle to the bathroom to wash with, as the water in the bottle was warmer than that in the tap. Sundays were the worst, Palm court on the radio was not a favourite but there was little choice. There was the cinema of course but on Sundays these usually showed old films. If as a youngster you wanted to go to the cinema and the programme did not consist of all U certificates then one waited outside until a likely looking couple or person came along and you asked them if they would take you in, but not in sight of the commissioner who was the watchdog of standards! During the cinema performances, usually at half time, there was “The News” showing pictures of the war as filmed by Pathe or British Gaumont. These pictures were the only visual records of the war that we saw, other than those in the newspapers or magazines. Many families had relations come home on leave when the war news was brought up to date. Whilst at the cinema and an air raid was sounded, a message came up on the screen inviting people to take shelter but that in my experience was seldom the case.
At night one could lay in bed or in the dugout and listen to the air raid in progress making mental notes of unusual noises, that could mean the possibility of souvenirs the next morning. On the night of the 15th June 1944 I certainly heard strange noises, they sounded like aircraft in trouble and crashing, again and again, oh what treasures to be looked for in the morning. How right I was except at the light of day we found out that it was the new weapon, doodlebugs! or V1’s. A sound which is unforgettable and most frightening when you are aware of how it works. That day was spent as did most residents reinforcing our dugout. Extra earth and anything that would provide shielding was added to shelters by the population. The new scourge of the doodlebug plagued us for some time until another was added the V2. Rocket propelled missiles that fell on us without any warning, causing tremendous explosions and damage. If you were near to one when it landed you afterwards heard the whoosh then the explosion.
Everything was rationed and food that I can remember was boring and inadequate, we were nearly always hungry. There were treats like bread and dripping with salt and pepper sprinkled over the top as well as bread and and marg with sugar sprinkled over but there was rarely any leftovers. The one item of food that I can remember not being on ration was horse meat and I was sent by my father to a butchers at Black Horse lane Walthamstow to queue for some, but I cannot remember the family actually eating it.
My paternal grandparents lived at Leigh on Sea, several times during the war it was possible to visit them. Happy memories of my short stays with excursions for black berries and mushrooms over Belfairs golf course with wind fall apples collected from under the trees planted along the road verges, shrimping and cockles.
The end of the war in Europe gave us as a family a chance of going on holiday and that was to Canvey Island, whilst there we heard and read of the end of the war with Japan, whilst still visible and accessible at the eastern end of Canvey on the marshes were remains of crashed German bombers.

War prepared me for entrance into national service at the age of 18 where drill instructors made life unbearable. Their job was to break you, and then make you into a unit that acted as one, and obeyed every command without hesitation. They always won.

Memories keep flooding back but sorry did someone mention compensation, or was it counselling ? Age impairment sometimes affects the hearing.

JRB July 2005

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