ÃÛÑ¿´«Ã½

“This story was submitted to the People’s War site by Jane Hart from Hastings Library on behalf of Marie Garaty, taken from personal interview, and has been added to the site with her permission. Marie Garaty fully understands the site’s terms and conditions�

I was born in 1937, so I was nearly 2 when war broke out. I lived in the East End of London, in Leyton, with my parents, Marie and Ernie Forrester. I am an only child. My (maternal) grandparents, Sarah and Richard Gurrey, had to leave their bungalow in Rochford, Essex because it was in Shoeburyness near Southend on Sea, and they had come to live with us.
I can remember standing on our kitchen doorstep with my Grandfather, watching the doodlebugs going over and listening to them and he said that when they stopped that is where they would fall.
I also remember being very very upset because our Junior school had taken a hit, but not because the school had been bombed, but that I’d left my plimsolls at school, and we had strictly been told not to leave anything there. I can remember sitting in the bed with my grandparents, who lived in the front (bed)room and being most upset because of my plimsolls.
A story my mother used to tell was to do with my father who was a bus driver, who drove the electric trolley buses. Someone knocked at our door one day as they knew my father was a bus driver, because a bomb had fallen further up and electrified the buses, as the lines had broken and fallen on the buses, and people were getting shocked. People were asking my father if he knew where to turn the power off!
I was taken to Battersea by my mother after we had had an horrendous night of bombing, to see if my cousin and siblings were ok. We brought my mother’s cousin’s youngest daughter back with us from their bombed out street, Patricia, who was younger than me, aged 5 or 6, but we had to take her back as she was so upset about leaving. She hadn’t lost anyone, but was just scared of what had happened.
I was evacuated to Birmingham, privately. I never understood why! I went to a friend of my aunt. My parents came to visit and I wouldn’t have anything to do with them! The evacuee family wanted to adopt me as they had lost their own daughter. I stayed there for quite a while but not sure how long for; not years. I was very happy. Father was invalided out of forces so I went home to Leyton. By then I had developed a thick Brummie accent and I wouldn’t talk to anyone when I got home as they laughed at me!
I might get some more memories as I’m currently going through my mother’s photos and doing the family history as she died this year (2005) aged in her 90’s. My father died aged 88. There are photos of my mother as baby. I feel very sad that their whole life is now encased in a shoe box containing documents. There is another box of photos etc. but no one knows what they’ve done, no one has any stories of them. I went to a bar b q for the 90th birthday of a gentleman. He had loads of stories and I tried to encourage him to get them recorded.

My father’s father had a Hitler moustache and was a big man. His name was William Forrester. He married Esther, whom I am named after (Marie Esther). She died when my father was 17. He was one of 14 children; 7 brothers and 3 sisters. There were 3 babies born that were all christened Stan but the first two died. The third one survived and was the youngest of family. He is now in 80s, and is one of only 2 brothers left.
Uncle Stan has just sent me details of his parents for my genealogy research. Stan is compiling his own memories, and we have swopped details. He has his Discharge Papers and other things like that. He has given me lots of details of my grandparents.

All the brothers that went to war came back. My father had medals but I don’t know what they are for. I do know he was a great joker in the Mess hut though!

I have a vivid recollection of standing on the back doorstep with grandfather watching bombs head for the East London docks but I had no feeling of being scared. I knew once the noise had stopped that you wouldn’t get hit as they weren’t anywhere near you.
I didn’t ever go into an air raid shelter. I remember having one in the garden, but I don’t remember it being dug. I remember someone saying we should have a look and when we did it was full of water. Our garden had the Dagenham Brook at the end of it and water seeped through, and rain as well. I never did go in it though, but I went in the neighbour’s. I don’t remember sleeping in it. It was under the house. It was really nice, with bunks. That family had 3 children.
We used to hide in Mother’s dresser. It had fixed cupboards that we cleared out.
It was attached to the wall. We hid in the dresser and pulled the doors in. We never did it for real but we knew what to do.
Mother was a great cinema fan. I remember watching a news reel on the liberation of Belsen. I was about 7. I remember a great big hand pulling my head down into my mother’s lap and being told I wasn’t to see the images that were on the screen.
I have visited a holocaust museum in Florida. It had a truck that had carried Jews. Its on a piece of railway line that took trains to Treblinka . There is a stand next to the truck with a ring box containing a child’s ring that had been found in the truck. We were allowed to touch the truck, which is quite unusual. I found that I couldn’t but my husband did. My husband would like to go to Aushwitz but I couldn’t; I would find it too disturbing. But I do think it should never be forgotten, now as the fighting generation has almost died out. I feel that we have become hardened to images of war. Uncle Stan spent his 21st birthday on beaches of Dunkirk, but he has never talked about it. He must have horrific memories.
A friend of mine has a Polish neighbour but he refuses to talk about war; for him it is too horrendous to talk about.

I have lived in my current bungalow for about 20 years. When we were digging in the garden we found a metal plaque about dogs not being allowed on allotments, and there would be a fine of £5 if anyone was found letting them. I might see if any TV companies want to use it!

I don’t remember any fear during the war. I think children were more protected in those days and never told of things like cancer and such. Is that good or bad?

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