I am now eighty three years old and the memories are fading, so my daughters suggested I write down my memories of the war that stand out in my mind, so my grandchildren can read about life before the internet!
I was born in October 1937 two years before war broke out. I was too young to realise what war was but I did feel the tension between my Mum and Dad.
It came to a head one morning when the postman brought a letter. It is my very first memory, Mum and Dad standing in the hall way together slowly opening a letter which they read together, both crying and holding on to each other. I clutched their legs and started to cry too. I did not know why Mum and Dad cried. It was inevitably the calling up papers.
My father had poor eye sight and thought he would be exempt, but no, along with many, many others he was conscripted to the army.
Mum and Dad had recently started a Fish, Game and Poultry business in Birmingham Fish Market and although at the time I did not realise it Mum had was going to have to carry on the business. This meant a change of lifestyle for all of us and I was the problem. Mum had to work and Dad was in the army but what about me?
My mother's sister Aunty Ame came to the rescue.
She had no children and was married to Uncle George, a coal man. His age and his job exempted him from being called up. Aunty Ame doted on me and spoilt me, often buying me little presents, but the one I cherished most was a pink china rabbit bought from a second hand shop. I still have this rabbit and think of Aunty Ame every time I dust it.
Every morning Mum and I would rise and eat our breakfast which consisted of arrowroot biscuits soaked in hot milk. I had a glass of orange juice which came from the welfare and was rationed, it was thick and unsweetened and had to be diluted, it tasted awful!
We then walked up Manor House Lane in all weathers, caught a trolley bus (a bus with overhead electric cables) changed buses in Small Heath, completing our journey by walking half a mile to Aunty Ame's house.
Mum left me there and caught another bus into Birmingham where she worked buying, filleting and selling fish all day. It must have been a very hard life, she would do the return journey to collect me and home the two of us would go, praying there would be no air raids.
In our little semi-detached house we had a staircase under which we would shelter if the air raid siren went off late at night. We would wrap blankets around us and sit under the stairs until the all clear signal was sounded. I would grab my gas mask which was made in the shape of Mickey Mouse. We were told to wear them in case gas bombs were dropped.
Later at the bottom of our small garden we had an Anderson shelter built which I believe was made of corrugated metal and was built over a hole in the ground into which we would climb down. It had benches on either side and we would wrap up warm to spend the night there.
We used this shelter when the air raid sirens went off quite early in the evening and I would be put to bed in there with blankets to keep warm. We used candles for light but no was allowed to show any light and had blackout material over the entrance. It was very cold and damp. Mum and I lay there and would listen to the bombs being dropped. We would count them as they exploded, listening to them getting nearer and nearer. One landed quite near us and many windows were blown out from the explosion, but thank god we did not have a direct hit.
As the war progressed we had a large communal shelter built in the road where the neighbours would gather. One night I remember someone had a packet of sweets, almost unheard of during the war! They counted them out and handed one to each child and the old ladies. It was a fantastic experience and I remember trying to make the sweet last by sucking it really slowly.
We were in this large shelter when we had one of the most awful air raids, we just sat there silently listening to the bombs being dropped endlessly. One or two people ventured outside and called to us to go and look – someone whispered ‘Coventry is on fire!” We all peered out and were horrified to see the sky over in the direction of Coventry, red -with flames and smoke reaching for the sky. The noise of explosions and sirens were deafening. Hitler had decided to bomb Coventry, an industrial city, manufacturing many weapons of war.
It was a sight I will never forget.
I huddled up to my mum back in the shelter, everyone had fallen silent, praying it would soon end. Now on the 5th of November when youngsters have fireworks on Bonfire night I cannot watch and listen without thinking back to the night Coventry was burnt down.
As the war raged on and Mum and I carried on with our lives, Mum working, and me being spoilt by Aunty Ame. After one night of heavy raids Mum took me to see my very old Grandmother to check on her as her area had been targeted. As we got off the bus we started to walk up the road leading to her house, we saw that many houses had been destroyed. I jumped up on a step and peered thought the remains of a window, 'What are those people doing just lying there?' I enquired. 'Don’t be nosey,' Mum replied. 'Just walk on.' Although it was never spoken of I knew they were two bodies waiting for the air raid wardens waiting to remove them.
We were relieved to find my grandmother's house had survived the bombing, she was still there with her eldest daughter looking after her.
I can still see the house quite clearly in my mind. A row of terraced houses with a brick path leading to an outhouse containing a large copper or sink which was the communal laundry tub. A fire was lit underneath this copper to heat the water every Monday which was wash day. Next to this building were six wooden sheds, each containing a lavatory. Each house had a key to its own lavatory. Toilet rolls were squares of newspaper threaded onto a piece of string!
The front door of the house opened in to a tiny hallway out of which a staircase rose up to two bedrooms on either side. Downstairs was the living room with a coal fired range on which they cooked. On one the side of the room was a brown sink with a cold water tap, in the centre a table and chairs and against the wall a side board covered with a brown cloth.
The room to the left of the entrance was the best room only used on Sundays it had the inevitable piano, which we would gather round on Sunday evenings and sing, ending with the song Bless This House.
Recently I went to visit my cousins who live on the Bournville estate in Birmingham. They arranged for me to visit The Backs, houses preserved by the National Trust. My cousins and I reminisced together about how similar they were to our grandmother's house.
When I reached the age of five I had to attend school by law so I could no longer stay with Aunty Ame during the day. Mum, therefore, arranged to drop me at Aunty Ada's (my father’s sister) who lived very close, so I could then walk to my nearby very small kindergarten and junior school. I was only 5 but that's what everyone did! This made life easier for my mother.
Sometimes Dad came home on leave. He did not go abroad but was stationed in this country. So one weekend Mum and I caught a train to visit him in Staffordshire. I cannot remember the village we stayed in but it was very exciting to see Dad if only for a short time. Whilst we were there, there was a village fete which the three of us went to.
I was mad on horses at the time and I can remember being lifted onto a large farm horse and being led around a field. Whilst sitting on this large animal a flight of planes flew over and everyone shouted and waved, it was King George VI, and the aircraft flew low over the field and dipped its wings, funny how things stick in the mind!
I can remember writing letters to my Dad and telling him how good I was being, and how I was looking after my Mum. I do remember writing a quote to him,
'You are my sunshine, my only sunshine away, You make me happy when skies are grey!'
The war seemed endless, air raids were part of life and food was pretty boring.
One day a friend of Mum's gave us two bananas, I had never seen a banana and could not wait to taste them. They were hard and green and we put them on the windowsill to ripen and turn to yellow. Without Mum knowing I peeled them and put them onto some bread spread with margarine to make a sandwich, Mum was so cross as they were still not ripe and tasted dreadful. It was a long time before I tasted bananas again.
One treat I do remember was brains on toast! Mum had been to the butchers and he had saved some for her as a special treat, they were very tasty! The thought today of eating brains and mad cow disease turns my stomach over but we thought we were lucky to have this treat.
Another memory I have was of a barrage balloon. These balloons were anchored to the ground to deter aircraft from flying low. Behind our house was a large allotment and there were a number of these barrage balloons anchored there. One night there was a great deal of wind and one of these balloons broke free. It did not get far because it became entangled in overhead wires and ended up draped over a neighbour's house. This caused great excitement and I believe the air force came to deflate it and unwrap it from the house it had entangled itself round.
A few days after this happened we had another excitement. A cat had climbed a tree outside our house and had got well and truly stuck it miaowed all night and we could not persuade it down, eventually someone called the fire brigade who arrived with ladders in order to climb the tree, it was gently lifted down and returned its owner. My Mum said even in the depths of war we still had time for the kindness to rescue an animal.
During the war we were encouraged to grow our own vegetables and keep chickens for their eggs and meat. Day old chicks were sold in baskets, unfortunately, not many survived, but we succeeding in keeping one alive. Mum and I fed it and looked after it hoping it would soon lay eggs for breakfast but low and behold our little chick turned in to a cockerel! We made a pen for it to live in and it grew and grew, we called it Herbert. Herbert became quite fierce and would fly up at Mum and try to peck her. One day it caught her skirt in its beak and shook it from side to side, Mum was terrified and could not get out of the pen quick enough so from then on we threw food to it over the fence and did not go in its pen.
Dad came home on leave a few days later and Mum told him Herbert had to go. She and I went out and left dad to deal with Herbert, when we came home there was no sign of him. The next day Dad went into the market to see some friends, when he came home he had a surprise for us we were going to have a wonderful meal, roast chicken! Mum took one look and said,
'That’s Herbert and I am not going to cook him!'
Dad tried to reassure her it wasn't but Mum was not fooled.
'I would know Herbert anywhere, with or without feather!'
So we just had vegetables for dinner.
Another war time Christmas came and the family gathered together. Dad was allowed two days leave but had to get back to where he was stationed by midnight on Christmas Day. As usual we ended the evening around the piano and dad and my uncle Ted gave us a rendering of Underneath the Arches as sung by Flanigan and Allen. We all roared with laughter as they stumbled around the room but suddenly there was a knock on the door and a soldier in army uniform had come to collect Dad.
'It's time to get going' he said.
Dad quickly changed into uniform, kissed me and held my Mum in his arms, and that was the second time I saw my Mum and Dad cry.
Towards the end of the war I was told my Mum was going to have a baby. I remember saying that I wanted a brother. Time went on and then one night there was a lot of activity, Dad had arrived home, a nurse came to the house with a neighbour. I was put to bed early and all the doors were closed. Then in the early hours of the morning the nurse came to tell me I had a baby sister, I was so disappointed. I remember crying and saying if I can't have a brother I'd rather have a pony. I very soon recovered from my disappointment and although the war was nearly over we still had occasional air raids.
On one such night the sirens sounded and I ran outside and shouted
'Tell Hitler I've got a baby sister and we cannot have any more air raids.'
At last the war ended and we had VE day, Victory in Europe. Everyone went wild with excitement, there was dancing in the streets and the King addressed the nation on the radio as we did not have television in those days.
What a relief to be able to go to bed and know there would be no more cold trips down the garden to the air raid shelter. Within a short time a street party was organised, ours was held in the allotments behind our house.
My Mum made me a white net dress with frills around the skirt, edged in red, white and blue ribbon. Unfortunately, during the afternoon it rained and all the colours ran into each other and stained the white lace. I was devastated that my end of war party dress was completely ruined.
There were hard times to follow, rationing of food, petrol, sweets and clothes but I knew no different as all my young life I had lived in war conditions. I had lived through hard times but nothing like some people had to endure. I still had my Mum and Dad and my little sister, and we had a roof over our heads...
Barbara Arkley.
