St George's News

LOOKING BACK ON EIGHTY YEARS

RUBY'S MEMOIRS, PART 7 - THE HEIGHT OF WAR

PART 1 - THE EARLY YEARS
PART 2 - THE GREAT WAR
PART 3 - THE TWENTIES
PART 4 - FROM GENERAL STRIKE TO WORLD WAR 2
PART 5 -MARRIED LIFE AND THE CLOUDS OF WAR
PART 6 - OUTBREAK OF WAR
PART 8 - 1942-44: AMERICA DECLARES WAR
PART 9 - POST-WAR 1945-1950: RUNNING THE PUB
PART 10 - THE AFTERMATH OF WAR
PART 11: THE HOME COMING
PART 12: THE SIXTIES
PART 13: FROM HILDENBOROUGH TO DENMEAD
PART 14: TRAVELLING THROUGH LIFE AND DEATH
PART 15: THE LAST 25 YEARS

Part 7. The Height of War

FIRST PUBLISHED IN THE CHRISMASS & NEW YEAR 1996/97 ISSUE OF ST GEORGE'S NEWS

We were now in the middle of the most disastrous times of the war. The news was always bad at home the bombing of Coventry Cathedral stands out in my memory, and the sight of the devastation of so many lovely old churches, and the Houses of Parliament, the Great Hall at Westminster, to name but a few, I can still remember the loss seemed to be irredeemable at that time.

However now we knew what we were in for the nation seemed more united than ever. I think we all just lived for today. We had stood alone for many months with our colonies. Refugees from overrun Europe were arriving here, some to make their home amongst us and some making their way across the Atlantic to pastures new. One kept up with the news on the B.B.C. which was pretty accurate but we were only told as much as was allowed. There were some fine News Readers, John Snagge was one I remember well but he was only one of many who became famous. On a few occasions we had Churchill delivering some of his well known "pep talks". Everyone was anxious to hear what he said and even the crowded pubs stopped serving and everyone was silent, you could hear a pin drop, until he finished when he was cheered and eulogised before there was a rush to the bar. He spread hope for a rather war weary nation.

The call up was still going on and I remember mine well, they had reached my age group in "the thirties". I was told that the ATS, WRENS and the WAAF's were full, that left your only choice the Factories, so for this I signed on for war work, and waited for the call. In the meantime while relating to some friends that I was down for factory work, they suggested that I worked for them in their factory which made clothing for export but also had a Contract with the Government for women's uniforms for the forces. This seemed to me to be better than in the Ball Bearing Factory at Luton where I should surely be sent, so I started my factory life the next day, and as I was already working when I received my papers, I was allowed to continue there. It was quite an experience as I learnt all about machining, pressing under steam, hemming and "sewing on" of buttons. All I have found useful ever since. After a few months I became an examiner of the finished article, and another girl and I were used as models when needed. There was another part of the factory where civilian clothes were made for "EXPORT ONLY". This sign was everywhere and this was quite exciting as we were sent off to do our stint on the cat-walk to show models off to overseas buyers, mainly American of course. It was wonderful to handle some good fashionable clothes again after rails and rails of uniforms. This didn't come round very often, but it was a great break from the usual day of factory life when the only change there was having a tea-break with Workers Playtime blasting out the latest Pop Songs such as I'll see you again, The last time I saw Paris, If I should fall in love again and many others.

And so the months went by. My husband worked in London in his father's office where they had an agency for coal, industrial and domestic, and another one in a mining town in the collieries, so we were a very busy household. I had my first land girl, also the mother of an old friend of ours who was killed in the Battle of Britain who came to stay as she lived in a town on the Thames Estuary and her house was bombed, her son was dead and she really had nowhere to go. She was a gem, we called her Auntie Poppy, and was known to everyone as that. One of my dogs died during an air raid and my beloved airedale had to be put down at the age of 10, he missed his companion, food was scarce and he didn't like scraps much, and got very bewildered with bombs, and strangers in and out of our house, and often I didn't get home in time to give him the exercise he was used to "Over the hills and far away" so it was very sad but seemed a small thing when so many had lost their loved ones.

We were now living in a bungalow built on top of the Hill overlooking the village and were always known as "The folks that live up the Hill", a cue for a song I think! My husband had joined the Home Guard, he was the Colonel's Adjutant, I don't know what he did, but as the Old Boy hadn't a car he always seemed to be taking him somewhere and as their headquarters were at the Golf Club which was quite close to a pub known as The Busted Duck by the locals, I never really knew its real name, I was pretty certain I should be able to contact him if necessary.

There was fire watching to be done at the offices at Kings Cross, names were on a rota in twos so as it was in London I travelled up there after work to do my turn as well. When there was a raid it was quite scary on top of this tall building, waiting for something to happen then to locate it and send a runner down to A.R.W. then he informed the fire brigade. As you were supposed to take cover during the raid it was rather difficult to see where the bomb dropped until the fire started. However such was the stupidity of rules and regulations. Nobody took much notice of them anyway. After this got into swing the raids on London were not very frequent, they were concentrated on large cities and towns all over the country so our fire watching soon turned into a night out in the nearest pub so when the warning went off there was a general rush to take up positions with a tin hat if you could find one.

In the village we had a hit on the church, it hit one side and blew quite a large hole in the grave yard. This was quickly cordoned off as quite a few graves had their contents scattered and so was boarded up for some time. I don't think this worried many of the villagers as one fell on the local village shoe shop when boots and shoes were scattered all over the area. There were hilarious stories of people rushing about in the dark trying to find a pair that matched. I think the stories didn't lose much in the telling, but it was very amusing at the time and there were no casualties. There was one that dropped at the bottom of our garden, but did not go off. I had my chickens there so perhaps it was as well otherwise we might have had people looking for a dinner amongst the "cabbages and peas". This happened on a Saturday night and next morning we had the Bomb Disposal Unit round to defuse it. We had been to a party the previous night with some American soldiers who were always very generous with their supplies they got from their families in the U.S.A. and had given us some rashers of bacon (we hadn't seen anything like this for ages) so decided on a good old Sunday breakfast of bacon and egg. The Bomb Squad arrived and after telling us to evacuate while they inspected the bomb, they left and went about their job. We both said "Blow them" or words to that effect, we'd have our breakfast first. Fortunately it was quickly rendered "harmless", the bomb I mean, and we were left in peace to enjoy our treat. It just shows how careless of bombs we had become.

By this time we had been in the thick of the most devastating news of lost battles, Battle Ships of our Great Fleets sunk in minutes. German Cruisers had escaped from their hiding places and were now at large to do more damage to our merchant navy which had suffered enough already from German U Boats. This had been reduced a great deal by the convoy system, new and more terrible bombs on our towns and cities, but amidst the gloom things were happening. Hitler had gone to war against Russia and was having to withdraw some of his might from the Western front as he had met with more opposition than expected, our fleet in the Mediterranean, was preventing Rommell from getting supplies for his troops through Tobruk for his army held up in the desert at Alexandria. Meanwhile our troops were resting and being reorganised under a new General named Montgomery. He was little known to most people but soon became the most talked about in the army. He was small but had great energy, he expected the almost impossible but got it out of his men, he mixed with them, lived in a caravan with them, dressed like them in battle dress, and was the first officer in command to wear a beret. He was put there by Churchill to get "Rommell out of Africa".

After the Japs attacked Pearl Harbour and caught the Americans out in their rather cavalier attitude to Britain at War, they then realised that their war with the Japs would become our war as well so now we could rely on their support to help us finish off the war in Europe and help them in the East. So our hopes rose that soon these dark days would be over and people could sleep in their own beds again.

But we had a long way to go, we still had rationing of most things and now clothes coupons caught up with us so there was no window shopping, the food shops had little to tempt you, there were queues outside a shop if they had anything other than the normal commodities, such as onions, or offal from the butcher, sausages etc. I dread to think now what was in them. The black market flourished and more or less anything could be obtained if you wanted it and could afford it. Our appetites had grown much smaller now, puddings were given up mainly during the week. I can't remember drinking much coffee but there always seemed to be enough tea. Sugar was rationed but I don't remember bread being so but it was an awful grey colour. Rationing was very frustrating especially in clothing. It was a case of mend and make do. Everybody knitted, if you could not buy the wool you undid something you didn't want, washed the wool and knitted it up again. I can remember unpicking some rather flowery curtains to make a skirt for a village dance. I don't think we bothered too much about such things until an American woman I met said "You are all so dowdy" . I could have killed her.

Over the last two years we had got the old Cricket Club going again, the pitch was on the large Common with the convenient Pub close by. My husband, a cricketer raked in as many able bodied men who were still in the village, and they worked on the pitch which had been neglected and by this time we had quite a healthy side going and were playing cricket matches every weekend. We had guest players at times and some quite notable cricketers came to show us their skills. Even the American Soldiers had a go but could never understand why this crazy people padded up for batting but not for fielding as they did in America for Base Ball. Of course the ladies had to see to the teams teas and also lunches for the all day Sunday Matches. I never had a summer holiday during these times as Cricket always came first. I was the secretary and had to fix matches for the following summer, during the winter. This was quite a social job as most contacts could be found in the Local Pub. Usually it was all plain sailing but there were times when a slip up occurred and the opposing side didn't turn up so we had to make do with a scratch team made up on the spot. Even sometimes they had to make do with the ladies who volunteered. These matches were hilarious, with dropped catches and a jump over the ball when it was coming far too fast for your liking.

So the years went by, but now with the better news the wonderful doings of the 8th Army at Alamein under Montgomery who drove Rommel back and out of Africa as he had been directed to do by Churchill. Hope came again and the preparation for the invasion of Europe instead of the invasion of our own Island.

this series of Ruby's "Memoirs" to be continued.

written by Ruby Bullock

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