蜜芽传媒

A war can make heroes or cowards of everyone. Mr. Frewer鈥檚 parents had to move in next door with him because an unexploded bomb was lodged in their roof. Their house was just in a nearby road and as it was not safe they had been ordered by the Police to leave. Along with everyone else in the vicinity they had to leave without any of their possessions and being very elderly they were bemoaning the fact that they could not rescue certain 鈥榯reasures鈥�. My Mother listened intently without comment. She still had the use of her small car (an Austin 7) with restricted petrol, so she drove up to the street, which was blocked off, climbed through the barrier and rescued some of the items they had specifically mentioned. Very foolhardy but also very brave! That was the way it was then, everyone helped everyone else where they could.

Travelling in London during the War was very hazardous, particularly by train. I remember us being stranded on London Bridge Station very late one night waiting for a train home when the 鈥淲arning鈥� went. There was no one around and we did not know the area well or know where the shelters were, so my parents decided to stay on the platform and to wait for a train. The station was in total darkness and very cold (no heating in those days) and from the platform we could see over quite a large area of London. We could see the bombs landing, hear the explosions and witness the resulting fires. It was a strange feeling to watch it all as we could have been next. It was very lonely and frightening. All trains were delayed until after the 鈥淎ll Clear鈥� and we had to wait for several hours before our train arrived and we did not get home until the early hours of the morning.

Travel by car was difficult too. My Mother had to become her own navigator as all street names had been removed in case of an German invasion At night it was worse because all car lights were shrouded and there were no street lights. My Father was the manager in charge of fund-raising for The Greater London Fund for the Blind during the War. This involved travelling all over London to visit the collectors and provide them with pins, boxes, tins etc. and to collect the donations for Geranium Day (which I think was in April each year). This meant that my Mother did a lot of driving in areas she had not known before the War, so she became very adept at finding her way around new bomb sites etc. in all weathers.

I remember large water storage tanks in strategic places everywhere ready to fight fires after the bombing. There was one on the corner near us. There were also very many Barrage Balloons in the area, on the Hayes and Keston Commons and near the airfield, to deter German aircraft. I also remember my maternal Grandmother鈥檚 house in Hayes Hill Road having most of its windows blown out by bomb blast and she had to wait for some time for repairs 鈥� though not such a long wait as she had for the chickens she had ordered from somewhere in Oxfordshire some time earlier in the War. The hen house was finished and she was waiting for the chickens to arrive. Such was the demand for chickens at that time that it was more then six months before they arrived! We used to say that they were walking across from Oxfordshire! However, after a settling-in period we were all very grateful for the eggs which they supplied which helped out with the difficulties of rationing.

My paternal Grandmother lived at 3 Maple Street, Sheerness, Kent on the Isle of Sheppey. This was a Naval Dockyard area with very heavy security and so one had to have a permit to visit the island. As she had no other family locally we used to visit her as often as possible, if we had enough petrol. Whilst I used to like visiting her I hated the journey as I was always car sick and in addition I was frightened by the armed guards stationed on the bridge to the island at King鈥檚 Ferry. Their guns seemed threatening to a small child even though they were 鈥榦urs鈥�. Granny had a Morrison shelter indoors, which was like a small, heavy steel, table-sized box which became her dining table during the War. I used to like playing and hiding under it.

Just on the right on the Sheppey side of the bridge there was an Italian Prisoner of War Camp. I remember that whilst the guards were checking our car at the Guard House, I used to look at the Italians. They seemed to be very happy to be there, always waving at us and their Nissen huts seemed very neat and tidy with little gardens of fruit and vegetables around them, with stone models or monuments which they had made in the front. They seemed to be quite ingenious and hardworking. I actually saw another Italian camp near Penge, where the men had built stone replicas of The Tower of London and The Houses of Parliament. They were very realistic indeed and about four feet long, three feet wide and two feet high.

At the end of Hayes Hill Road was Tie Pigs Lane, a quiet little lane which had once been used to take produce from the farms to market. We used to walk the dogs there and one day we were spotted by a German plane which was probably lost. The 鈥楢ll Clear鈥� had sounded so we should have been safe. Anyway unfortunately he still had some ammunition left and dived towards us. I have never been able to understand how my Mother managed to get my blind Father, myself, the two dogs and herself into the ditch at the side of the road so quickly, but she did and she saved us from harm when he let fly with his spare ammunition. It was a very close shave indeed.

Most people did not keep their dogs in the War but because of my father鈥檚 blindness we were able to keep ours, a cocker spaniel called 鈥淒inky鈥�. I still have the Ration Card we were issued for her and she also ate left over scraps. Later she had puppies under the stairs and we kept the afore-mentioned 鈥淒oodles鈥� from the litter. Because a dog鈥檚 hearing is more acute than a human鈥檚, 鈥淒inky鈥� heard earlier air raid warnings before they reached our region. When she disappeared under the stairs we knew it would very shortly be time for us to go to the shelter and similarly when she came out to the shelter to see us (she would never stay with us in the shelter) we knew that it would soon be safe to go outside. We always left the back door open day and night for her to come and go. There was never any fear of burglaries during the War. In old age 鈥淒inky鈥� went blind and it was an amazing sight to see 鈥淒oodles鈥� guiding her around by holding onto her ear and dragging her about.

All the men in my family, except my father, were away at the War so I only saw them rarely when they came home on leave. It was a very feminine environment to grow up in with my Mother, Aunt and Grand-Mother always being around. This was probably the case for most English children at that time. My three Uncles were all in The Royal Air Force, one in Bomber Command, one in radar in the deserts of Africa and one (he was formerly in The Royal Flying Corps in WWI) was a flying instructor at the Empire Pilots鈥� Training School at Windsor, Ontario, Canada.

Later I also had two Step-Uncles, Geoffrey and Ronald Emes. I believe that Geoffrey was in the Army although I am not sure. After the War he joined Wimpeys, the large construction company. Ron, the younger one, was more at ease with children and I got on well with him. He was in the Merchant Navy mostly on the Atlantic run and one time towards the end of the war he arrived at my boarding school with a crate of oranges for me! As it was only at Christmas that we ever saw any citrus fruit (usually a tangerine in our stocking) this was a very special treat. Of course the Matron took charge of the crate and every girl in the House was given a quarter of an orange daily until the box was empty. How we enjoyed those oranges and for a while my popularity level was high as a result!

I had some 鈥榗ourtesy鈥� aunts and uncles too. There were Uncle John (鈥淪tiffy鈥�) and Auntie Hetty (Wilson) who lived at 7 Busk Street, Hackney. I think he was a carpenter. He was certainly very clever with his hands and I still use a table lamp which he made. We used to visit them often and they came to us. I can remember Auntie Hetty teaching me to read before I went to boarding school. There were also Uncle John and Auntie Min (Brown). They lived in Sheerness not far from Granny and they were both in the Royal Navy. He went on the Murmansk convoys and she looked just wonderful in her W.R.N.S. uniform. After the War he was a baker making Procea (white) bread and I remember him telling us never to eat it because it was full of chemicals. It made a welcome change though after the 鈥済rey鈥� bread we had had during the War.

I remember other men who were engaged in 蜜芽传媒 Defence duties, 蜜芽传媒 Guard, Fire Service etc. as well as the Armed Services. I particularly remember Frank Read, the son of my father鈥檚 friend Charles, who taught me to play Cribbage. He was badly wounded at the Battle of Monte Cassino. After the War he became a teacher at a private school somewhere in Dorset. He was a very kind and gentle man. There was also Norman Mountjoy who lived at West Wickham. He was apprenticed as a Jeweller. He joined the Auxiliary Fire Service and was killed along with 32 other men when the Fire Station at Poplar in the East End took a direct hit on the night of 19th./20th. April 1941. I believe that he was an only child and his death was a terrible blow for his parents.

I also remember Mr. Baxter from Downham, who with his Father, Charlie, did marvellous acid-etching on glass windows etc. for Banks, pubs and other important buildings. I believe he was stationed at the Downham Fire Station. He had a daughter Ann with whom I sometimes played.

Another Fireman I met long after the War, Eddie Edwards, had a very lucky escape. He was attached to the Penge (Beckenham) Fire Brigade and had just sat down to dinner when he was called for an emergency. At his wife鈥檚 urging, because he would probably be away from home for hours, he hastily finished his meal but by the time he reached the Fire Station his crew had left and en route to the fire they were bombed by a direct hit. All of them were killed.

Our doctor in Hayes was Dr. Bamford. He was a Quaker and a kind, gentle man. I think that, as a Quaker, he was a conscientious objector and so did not serve in the Forces but this did not stop him from being one of the first doctors into Belsen Concentration Camp. He was never the same after that experience.

About a year after the War I met Mr. (Charles?) Maynard. He had been a Prisoner of War in Changi and must have suffered terribly during his incarceration. I remember him as a very slight gentle man and I hope he had a good life afterwards. I remember he was married and I think he had some children about my age.

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