THEN AND NOW
By Linda Watling
THE WAR YEARS
Chapter 1
I was born (now, there's a novelty). I was not consulted about the location of this event; the government of the time decided to send my shy, 20 year old mum from London to Hertfordshire - Hemel Hempstead, to be precise. This was due to the fact that Mr.Hitler was doing his best to wipe London off the map.
Had anyone bothered to ask ME, I would have chosen Essex. I have lived in this much maligned county since I was six years old and consider myself to be a true "Essex girl" and proud of it. The date of this momentous event was the 14th of October 1940 Fans of Cliff Richard will know that he was born on the same day, a fact that my Dad never let me forget. Each birthday I would receive a call saying "how come I got you instead of Cliff Richard" - I think he was joking. As Mum and I were re-evacuated to Shropshire after two weeks I have no allegiance to the place of my birth, which happened to be a former workhouse converted into a maternity hospital.
According to my mum life on a remote farm in Shropshire was no fun. There were two young boys evacuated there and their lives were miserable.
My dad, in common with most dads of the time, was in the army - the Royal Artillery. When I was one year and two months old he was sent on " holiday" to Singapore. The Japanese kindly allowed him to stay as their guest for the next three and a half years. He must have liked it there as he helped them to build a railway. (Do you know that the Japanese invented a diet at that time? It was called "STARVATION" guaranteed to reduce the weight of anyone to approximately five stones) I cannot pretend that I remember too much of the war. We spent most of it in Hackney, London where I was completely spoiled by my mum's younger brother and sister. They had lots of friends and, as I was the only child most of them knew, I did not go without.
However, my mum certainly knew what it was like to be poor. We lived on the second floor above a shop, situated on a very busy road. We had two rooms, an old cooker on the landing and a bucket. (Use your imagination as to the use that this was put to)
A passing bomb killed my grandad as he was sitting on a bus. As I was only three at the time it did not have much effect on me.
As the schools were fairly empty I was lucky enough to start two days after my 4th birthday. I loved it. I had never played with other children before and I revelled in learning. School in 1944 was nothing like today. I had to walk there & back each morning, lunchtime and afternoon but, occasionally, Mum and I caught the No. 6 bus to Orchard School. I can still recall proudly asking the conductor for "a three ha'pence and a penny, please" (that's a total of one new penny).
I had a slate and chalk to write with and was allowed to play in the hall on bikes and scooters etc a couple of times a week. What a luxury! No one had such toys at home, not that we missed them, you can't miss things that you never had, and nobody had very much. I didn't miss having a dad, either. As no one had a dad I was not deprived in any way.
I remember one Christmas, at that infant school, when all of the children had to pull a piece of paper from a hat, if it was marked with a T you got a small present, if it was blank - hard luck. Mine was blank but there was one present left over, I got this as I had played the fairy godmother in the Christmas show. It was a football rattle. Can you imagine this happening today? Discrimination, I hear you cry! It was just accepted then. Ironically, we lived over a bike and toyshop. Many's the time that mum had to return the dolls I had asked Mr McCall for. I did have a dolly; it had belonged to my aunt since she was 5. Along with the teddy my grandad had bought me, they were proudly pushed round in the orange-box pram Grandad had made. Those were the days!
Other memories from those days: jitterbugging in the downstairs room at Nan's house, with my aunt, uncle and friends, accumulators - no, not backing the gee gees - accumulator batteries that made the wirelesses go. They had to be exchanged regularly at the hardware shop and handled very carefully as they were filled with acid. The wireless was the main source of entertainment. Little recollections : my Uncle George in the outside lavatory when a bomb dropped nearby and blew the door off, mum taking me to paddle in the River Thames, my aunt Elsie disowning me for swearing in the cinema. (I don't really remember this but have often been told about the occasion.) I was the smallest bridesmaid at the wedding of my Dad's cousin when I was 4 and again to a couple of Elsie & George's friends, Edna and Joe Robinson, when I was 5. I wore pink dresses both times.
Before I continue with my life I must mention the circumstances surrounding the meeting of my Mum and my Dad. As I mentioned before, mum was a very shy, pretty girl, with auburn hair. She was on her own, watching a parade in London, when this flash bloke picked her up, LITERALLY, to help her to see (he said). She was at the front of the crowd at the time. Still, I'm glad he was forward or else I would not be writing this!
The war was over; my Dad returned six months later to our two rooms in Hackney. Life suddenly became very different. I was no longer the centre of the world, my Dad, a complete stranger, was ill, disturbed, confused and wanted to take his rightful place in the family. I had shared my mum's bed since I grew out of the cot; this man wanted his bed back. At five years old I had no idea why!
Then, startling news, there was going to be a new baby. Instinctively I hated it. Fortunately this notion did not last and I loved my brother from the moment I saw him.
Six and a half and a completely new life was about to begin.
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