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Frank was 6 weeks old when the second world war started.
We were to be moved away from London, we arrived at the station and were taken to a public hall, and the public were allowed to pick who they wanted.
I was soon chosen by a lady, I suppose she thought no trouble being a mother and baby. He was a stockbroker in the city and they were both very concerned for me, I was breast feeding Frank so that was no problem, they saw I was well fed, I had my meals with them and it wasn’t long before I was helping her, washing up etc. I only stayed 3 weeks as the war did not start, before we were married we bought a tent and all the equipment, it was all packed in a bag, every time we left and put in a shed by whoever owned the field.
, my brother Frank and Claire had one as well, I cannot remember who got one first.
We got a free railway pass most weekends if we were free, when I returned from Woodford that’s the first thing we did go to Shoeburyness for a weeks holiday with Frank, there are photos somewhere of Len and baby Frank.
We heard rumours of an invasion by the Germans it was a bit frightening being near the coast so we decided to make for home, the platform was full of people we would not have got that train but they let me on as I had a baby.
We never saw our tent again, the field was taken over by military.
The soldiers must have taken it.
I can’t remember the date but I believe it was September 3rd when I heard the first German plane, it was very distinctive. I heard bombs dropping and I stood by our big wardrobe with Frank in my arms too scared to move. We had a shelter in the garden so we went to bed there as soon as it got dark. In the shelter one complex next door as well.
One night Len dashed home from work, on his way home he’d seen a lot of trouble. He decided we would go to Stratford. He was worried about his mum and dad, well that was a very bad move; we went right into it. They were after the docks. All the streets were covered with rubble and fine soil. All the windows were broken at Sandle Street. They were all in the shelter. I was pushing the pram along the street and some man went for them, until he explained where we were going. I stayed with his mum until things began to settle down.

While Len’s dad was working on the railway he had a friend who until he returned was a ticket inspector. After retirement he bought a pub at Fen Ditton called The Plough, had a son Sid and daughter Maggie. Dad used to visit him at Fen Ditton. It was Mr Gooden that suggested mum and Joyce who was 14, and me and baby get a place in Fen Ditton. Anyway a farmer had a cottage at Horningsea that he couldn’t use because the farm hand was called up. It was furnished — no electric — no running water. We had a barrow on wheels we used to go down to the village pump. We used oil lamps. It wasn’t until after the war we had the electric laid on and a tap in the kitchen over a plastic bowl; it wasn’t long before we had several neighbours getting water from our tap.
Len was called up in 1940/41 he went to Bristol Mead Station, eventually his boss went abroad and took Len with him.

After the war in Fen Dittone, we were the first to get television and the room was full the year Oxford boat sank in the race.
We had a great pole stuck in the garden for aerial. I always remember when we moved that was first to go. Dad used his railway van to come weekends. I went back several times to our flat, we was still paying rent. We’d been at Horningsea several months when the farmer gave us notice because the man had written him to say he was coming back. At the same time an old man had died at Fen Ditton. Sam Gooden bought the cottage for £100 and offered it to us. He could collect a weekly rent from the Evacuated Funds. (I’m in a muddle here because I’m trying to remember) This is where we had the water and electric laid on because Len was home then. Mum had gone back to London, Joyce had a job at Marshalls airport by this time. Dad collected all my furniture from the flat. We had to shut Frank in the toilet because he was so energetic - boy did he scream. We had a lovely apple tree in the garden. The apples were no good. All the toilet was emptied in the ditch nearby but it never put us off. We had loads of visitors from London come to stay at times. Len got a job driving horse and carts for BR because he was used to horses from his dad’s job, he had a lovely old horse he used to tie up to our shed. Sometime after he got a new motor. He used to teach new drivers in Cambridge. Suddenly the council was building 4 houses. He went straight into the council offices. Who should be in charge but Mrs Ellis who had a house named after her where I got a flat. When she told him that as Maggie had 3 children she had priority Len moved towards her. She got out of her chair. She thought that he was going to attack her he was so angry. Anyway it wasn’t long before we were offered 64 Whitehill Road which was better anyway. Before this went on I got mum out of hospital to live with us. She was pleased and had a much better life. Roger was born in 1947 a year after dad got home. I got a Saturday job in Woolworths and I noticed girls used to tear the dresses they were given to wear; I mended some dresses and the supervisor told the office and it ended with Woolworths delivering a box full of dresses to be mended. I had to put in a bill for work done and send it to head office and I charged by the hour. 1/6 an hour I was glad of the money. My machine was in the kitchen, I made aprons out of dresses that were too old and they were very pleased. The girls on veg used to wear them.
Frank was 6 weeks old when the second world war started.
After living in Whitehill Road I started working at Pyes and was there for some years. Frank and Roger got apprenticeships at Marshall’s. Mum was living with us. I went to work from 1.30 until 6p.m., later reduced to 5 o’clock. One day Frank told me about a job in the Ganger . There was an office that had off set printing for Concorde planes. We used to print rubber sleeves for electricians to put in concords pilot place, we were taken once to see it all in place. There was three of us in the office, I can’t remember where we went, I know it wasn’t Marshalls.
After some months a man was out in with us. He was going to do nights. All three of us were made redundant, offered other jobs. I ended up in a room doing some drilling but I found it too heavy for me. By this time Frank had met Carol and her mum worked at a laundry so I went there rolling sheets and things through rollers. I didn’t like it much. Hen I gave notice to leave the boss was very nice and gave me a present. I can’t remember what it was. I thought it was lovely then. Perhaps Carol will remember. Len was still driving a van but when the hospital was built in 1962 he took a job there through a friend I the boiler room. It was just temporary but with three boilers he started shift work. After a time the chimney was built with a very modern boiler system. I’ve got a photo of Len somewhere; he’s sitting in front of a huge map of the hospital and a telephone. When it rang a light used to come on in the map top get directions. Any failure of the lights or wards that used to go wrong, it was his job to direct electricians. It was about this time Len bought a car off an old lady; first car to appear in Whitehall Road. It was an Austen saloon with a spare tyre on the back of the boot. We went from that to a bigger saloon car, still Austen, black, and ended up with a white mini. Why we changed I can’t remember, or when Roger bought a bubble car that opened up at the side — perhaps you’ll remember Roger and fill it in. When the hospital first got built near where x-ray is now an extension was built for a temporary linen room. Len got very friendly with the lady that ran it, Mrs Knickles, and she told him to send me to see her, which I did. She had a machine …. She tool me to see matron and I got taken on. The morning I started she was on the phone and I heard her say I’ve got four good machiners now. She was very good to us and always said bring any machining you want to do and she would stack sheets in a pile to hide what we were doing. I was always making cushions for myself and others. She taught me quite a lot in cutting out. We all made a quilt cover that was raffled for funds. We all had a piece each, then she joined it up. It looked lovely, all different colour patchwork. After she retired things were not the same. There was a notice on our board about N.B.T.S. wanting a linen lady. Len took me for an interview, there were three men and two women. At the time I didn’t know one was head nurse and the others were doctors. They fired questions at me; why I wanted to leave the hospital, and I told the truth. We had heard rumours that the linen room was going to be downstairs in the tunnel under the hospital. The machinists were going to be just machinists and the rest was going to be done by the Laundry that was next door; you see we had changes during the day, taking trolleys round the wards. Doctors used to come in for their coats and gossip. All this was going to go. At NBTS I’d be in charge of myself, and all the linen. When I tried to tell them why I wanted out it didn’t go down very well. The one said is there anything you’d like to ask us and I said year, did I get a uniform. They all laughed and then one said help yourself to a white coat. When I got in the car with Len I said well I’ve blown that and told him what had happened. Anyway in two or three days I got a letter inviting me to start. I wasn’t the only one being interviewed that day. I asked the head nurse why I was picked and she said you looked so healthy.
After we’d been at Whitehill Road some years we decided to move to a flat in Litchfield Road. They were newly built. There was a room on the estate with a boiler and heat from it was all in the rent; radiator in every room, and as I had done all the decorating in the house a one bedroom flat wouldn’t be so hard as we got older. Apart from that it was nearer work. I was home in five minutes. That was the start of the biggest mistake of my life. It wasn’t long before people living near was reporting families were taking advantage of free hot water and bringing loads of washing round. It was all stopped. The boiler was shit down. We all had meters fitted. Another blow was that the old girl downstairs used to tell me off about using a washing machine in the evening, and hovering. I think I’d been there two years when we heard about a bungalow in Northfield Avenue. The couple that had it was a part time taxi driver in Hills Road and had seen my advert for an exchange. He rang me again, so we took it. I can’t remember how long we were there. Len wasn’t well after we moved. I believe he had a mini heart attack and had to give up smoking.
We must have retired before we moved because NBTS gave me a party and Len had one next day; that’s when he got those lovely whisky glasses. I got a stool and earrings from NBTS. I had two lovely bunches of flowers and lots of cards. I know I kept one card signed by everyone but I’m not sure where it is now. After we moved to the Bungalow it didn’t take Roger long to sort out the garden back and front. He cut both lawns every week and as he had a greenhouse it wasn’t long before we had a good show of flower bed. Len bought an electric scooter and Roger made a shelter to keep it dry. We paid for a garage for our car, I can’t remember how many years we were there. Eventually Len had to give up driving and the day Len had to give up driving and the day the car went was one of my worst days. Len died in his sleep one evening.
I knew some people that lived in Ellis House and they praised it up, I must have been mad because I still had to cook for myself. They gave me a garage for my scooter — by this time I’d been using it a lot: I even got to town on it.
I bought a new fridge freezer and found it very difficult to defrost every week. I also bought a new electric cooker.
When Frank started to say why don’t you come and live with us I was eager to go as I wasn’t coping well enough. Frank and Carol did the cooking and took me shopping in the car, but that didn’t last because I wanted too much looking after. At the time I went there the surgery closed so I had to be taken to Outwell to see the doctor which was a blow.
After I’d been there about a year I was getting a very bad ache which eventually got so bad I called Carol and collapsed. I came round in Addenbrookes hospital with pneumonia. I was there two weeks and was really browned off so when I got home I decided to take an overdose to kill myself but of course I didn’t know it wouldn’t kill me. I ended up in Kings Lynn hospital, with other women who were mentally ill. After a fortnight I was sent to Conely Court. Some of the patients were really gone, the place was run fairly well. Then it was suggested I go into a home and Lily House was found for me and here I am for the rest of my life.
The mistakes I made in the past really tear me to pieces, the wrong moves I made. Now I am stuck, its my hell on earth. Everyone is so impressed with the look of the place and layout.
I have developed music noises in my head and I have asked to see a doctor as I am not getting enough sleep and am very stressed all the time. No one can understand how it makes me feel. I dread the summer as when it gets too hot I can hardly breathe.
In the bungalow I use to have plenty of beans. Every year Roger planted them out and they were lovely. I wish I could have all those days back. I can’t see myself lasting much longer as I am not very well. I was given pain killers for backache. They certainly made me sleep but I can’t go to the toilet so my back is worse. I have refused pain killers hoping it will make a difference. The manager said I could have a dose of ? syrup but nurse says I’ve got to get some of my own and put my name on it. Rogers coming tonight so I’ll tell him.
I guess this is the end of my story. What a lot of mistakes I made. I wish I could end it myself but I know no way. It’s best to leave it to fate. I’ve got too many things wrong with me. The noise in my head is the worst. Fortunately when I concentrate on the words on telly I can overcome it a little.
I wish I could remember more than I do. In a way I’m better off than a lot here — others can’t remember anything.
Please don’t think too bad of me. I love you all.
Your mum
xxxx