We dug our own shelter, I borrowed my husband’s trousers, because in those days it was dreadful to see a women walking around in trousers. I put my husband’s trousers on and started digging, and then all the women helped each other dig. Then the people came, from Lewisham or some authority, they came and put the shelters up and we covered them over with earth and all that sort of thing, but of course they weren’t waterproof. We put mattresses on the floor. One night when we went to put the kids to bed there, the mattress was floating – it was the water. It was bad. Well then, after that, they lined it with concrete half way up. If there was a raid on, I would nip around the shops because I lived at the back of the shops and they was always empty during a raid so you could get your little bits of what you wanted. Mrs Darling
When we got there, my father parked his lorry up on a hillside sloping. Then we went across into the caves. It smelt all musty and damp, from the chalk. All the front of the caves and the centre were taken by people that had beds up. They used to use a frying pan with a candle under it to fry a sausage; somebody did, because there were no cooking facilities there. People used to take flasks and sandwiches. They made beds up. There were lights, but not many. Just the main one down there. If you were under the side or in a corner, it would be dark. We had to go right to the back of the cave because all the front was taken by the regulars. My father came with us but because of his breathing problems he wouldn’t go again. Pat McDonald
The nearest shelter to where I lived was about 300 yards away. If you were in the factory most people just carried on working. If the raids were during the night my mum would say, ‘Come on, get up. There’s a raid. We’re going down the shelter.’ I’d say, ‘Mum, I’ve got to get up for work in the morning.’ My brother said the same. The other two were evacuated. We’d say, ‘I’ve got to get up and work in the morning. I’m not going to get up and run down the shelter in my night clothes for about 300 yards and come back again and go to be,. Disturb the night.’ My eldest brother slept in the attic and he didn’t bother either. Lill Murrell
My Brother-in-Law who hadn’t yet been called up for the Army because of his age, he started taking us to different shelters – in Eden Park, Beckenham – but some of the residents complained and when they found out where we were from said we had a cheek coming and taking their shelters away from them. One night my sister got up and had a row with them. When we first arrived it was daylight and they were all saying, ‘Where are you from?’ and we were saying, ‘Brockley.’ They were going, ‘Oh.’ When it got to night-time we could hear them saying, ‘Damn cheek coming down here, taking our places away. Taking our shelters from us.’ Pat McDonald
It was a very, very long garden and there was a shed at the bottom and this shelter was built like a shop would be built, all iron, and a good thing it was, because we had a 100 pound bomb at the bottom of the garden. We had three bunks in there. I was sleeping on the top bunk. The guns used to go whoosh !! in my ear, through the little air duct. We heard this awful blast and we thought the house had gone and couldn’t wait for the all clear to open the door. And in came glass and rubble. The house was still there but there wasn’t a window anywhere, and lots of brick had come out and the wall that was round it was all blown up. When we looked down the garden there was no shed and of course my bike was in there and the lawn mower. Do you know where they found it? Right over the tops of the houses, in the church gardens – my bicycle all tangled up, and the lawn mower, the roller. They were blown over into the church garden. You can imagine the blast of it. And we were still intact in our shelter. Susan Swann
The Civil Service - I was asked if that would suit me. I didn't wish to go into the services if I could help it because it meant leaving the family and they did depend on me in many ways. So I said I would do that and I went to the Board of Trade. It was a wartime department, export licensing, which meant that all goods leaving this country, being exported, had to have a licence. Some were rejected. The licences were pretty tight to come by. I went into the dangerous drugs section. I had to learn all decimalisation, weights and everything. Not so much the money side, I didn't have to worry so much about that. But I did have to know about weights and quite a lot about the various names of drugs. It was pretty uphill because it was all strange and fresh to me. I knew we were not what was known as 'permanent civil servants'. We were only there as conscripts. We knew that if we were fortunate - there was a lot of wrangling always went on, no matter what it was, in promotions and all sorts of things - you felt that you might be given the chance to become a permanent civil servant or your job would end and you would have to go and look in other quarters for a job. What I didn't like was that if you asked to become a permanent civil servant you had to give up all your promotions, the priviledges or anything which your promotions gave you, plus your salary, and start from the very basic. Because before the war it was a long process to be accepted as a permanent civil servant. But because of war service they were quite willing to waive some of that. But - I suppose it was all a matter of pride, which is only natural - why should you go to the bottom on the lowest salary, and you knew that your chances of promotion out of that category were very small because there were lots of other people. They wouldn't require so many staff for one thing. Departments would actually close down and it would all get back to the smug little circle it had been before the war. I didn't like that. I resented it because I had worked very hard, as we all had in the service during the war. It was a compulsory 52 hours a week which is quite a long week. And we did extra work as well, weekends and so on. I felt that we had given a lot to the service for which we were not paid, which is only a natural thing to think, and you thought 'Well, why have I got to be humiliated and go to the very bottom?' It was pride you felt you'd done your duty and you'd done it to the best of your ability, and you didn't quite fancy going right down to the bottom. I later learned that those people who did accept, and accepted Grade Three, which was the lowest form of life in the Civil Service, never got out of it, and they were never allowed to forget that they had been conscripts during the war. Very unpleasant. Miss Applegate
I was looking after all the big lorries, the dust lorries and all that kind of thing, repairing them you know and keeping them on the road and then the Manpower Board sent for me and they made me go and work for Aveling-Barfords at Sydenham. It was because they were going round and taking all the rollers - Petrol rollers, diesel rollers and steam rollers all from different councils and they was sending them to us for repair, getting ready for the invasion, and I was up there for about two years I suppose. Jim Jeal
Things were much stricter before the war. There was no such thing before the war as Christian names. Christian names weren't used. That never came about 'til during the war. Also the grocery shops had no women working in them, they were all male staff. They were all women during the war nearly. First of all I was very resentful of it. I don't know why but I was. I'd got used to the company of men I suppose, and then suddenly having women work beside you, and no other man around anywhere. I was not the only one, but there were only two of us in the shop and about a dozen women. Eventually it changed to enjoying working with them. They was all so jolly. Mind you, they weren't youngsters all of them. One or two, but most of them had to go in the services or on essential work, so I had women working with me whose sons were in the Army. But they were all very jolly and they used to sing and get on with their work and have a bit of fun during the day. Mr Drury snr.
I had to do this job in the Arsenal. My mother said to me that in the First World War she had to go to work in the danger building and she said, 'Don't let them put you in there because you get yellow skin.' The Cordite. You get a blood condition. She said, 'Whatever you do, fight them about that.' So I said to the girl in the office, 'I'm not going in the danger building.' She said, 'If you don't you'll have to go to prison.' So I said, 'Well I'm sorry, I'll go to prison. I'm not going into the danger building. My mother worked there and I've seen how it affected her and I will not work in the danger building.' So I said, 'Why can't I do something like look after children or nursingpeople as I've been used to doing?' I trained for a nurse for a while you see, years before this. Anyway they said, 'No. You've got to work in the Arsenal. You've got to go.' So I said, 'I'm not going, so you can do as you like.' and I walked out. Anyway, they let me know I could go into building E36 which was right next door to the dnager building! Susan Swann
I was examining .303's - rifle bullets. We had to examine all these things. What you had to do is pick up a handful of bullets, about a dozen and you held them in your hand and you shook them up like that and then you rolled them backwards and forwards like that - you had to examine every one of those dozen and not a pin prick must show. You had to examine a dozen at a time to get your work through. And then when you'd finished doing that you'd bunched them up and you examined all the heads carefully right the way round, very, very carefully because a little pin prick on there could make a rifle kick back and blow a man's shoulder out, I was told. So it used to worry me to death - 'I mustn't miss one.' Then you had to turn them up and examine the bullet end. They mustn't have a dent or a scratch or a pin prick in them. Woe betide you if they went to the finals and they a pin prick on your box. The brass casing of the bullet had to be absolutely smooth. They were .303's. They were nasty little things. Susan Swann
In early July, my husband was admitted to the army hospital near Maidstone. I visited with my two year old daughter. Later on, he was allowed to come home for a day - I recall him arriving in his 'Hospital Blues'. He was discharged from Barming in August and sent home until the necessary documentation was completed, finally being 'invalided out' of the army after five years service with a 20% disability pension. He attended Olympia in October to receive his discharge papers, demob suit etc. and a gratuity of £74. He had to re-adjust to civilian life-and the life of a married man with a wife and child. I had to adjust to having a husband perminately at home. My Daughter now aged two and a quarter years had to adjust to this new set of circumstances. She had been used to this father in uniform, putting in an occasional appearance on leaves. Now there was this father no longer in uniform - and here all of the time. Up to then, I had been the sole person in her life - It must have been puzzling for her. It is only with hindsight that one is able to assess the situation. My husband was conscripted in April 1940 at the age of twenty-three. Up until then, he had lived with his parents, with no responsibility for the domestic issues. In the army he was fed and watered, so had no worries in that field. Of course it was not an easy life - stresses and strains and physical drains on emotions were present. He was made a Sergeant in 1941, so had to be responsible for men under him, some of them older than himself, and Sergeants were often in a position where the 'Buck stopped with them'. Then catapulted back into civilian life in an entirely new set of circumstances. Not really aware of what his role was - what he was responsible for, expecting there would be little difference in his life. I had to adjust to having another person to care for-and my routine to be altered considerably. There were hundreds of people like us. Margaret Kippin
You'd felt really happy that everyone would be coming home from the forces and they'd be no more bombing, but a few days later you came down to earth and you realised that life was never going to be the same again. That things had completely changed, your whole life. You'd been through the whole war. What I kept thinking was, 'It's never going to end'. You knew it must end, it couldn't go on forever. But I kept thinking, 'It's never going to end. The bombing is never going to end. People never going to stop being injured.' I was so happy when they actually said, 'It's over.' but a few days later we then started thinking, 'Whats life going to be like now?' Lil Murrell
I was trying to finish a rather important lot of work. Somebody rushed into the office and said, 'It's over! It's over! Come on-put that down!' I said, 'No. I'm finishing my work. You're telling me the war is over? Well, one expected that. That's alright.' And I continued with my work until I'd finished it. That was me, the way I like things. You didn't go riotously joyful or anything. You came home and enjoyed it with your family and you just breathed a big sigh of relief that there would be no more bombing raids and no more lives lost-as you thought then-of course there have been so many other incidents since, in one shape or another. You felt a great sense of relief that you could hope and that you could plan a better life, not realising that life was never going to be quite the same as it had been before the war. But we did-we had to do it. There were parties and wonderful homecomings for the troops. There was sadness because of those that didn't come home, service people that didn't return. It was very mixed really. I don't think I ever felt over jubilant because there was the memory of the things that happened, people that were no longer there. But some people did go over the moon. That was up to the individual, how they felt. Miss Applegate.
I had journeyed home to Catford Bridge Station as usual, and there met a girl friend with whom I had previously arranged to go to the cinema straight from work. Together we walked down into Catford and then into the Plaza cinema. Imagine our surprise and amazement when we made our exit to find both my parents and younger brother waiting for us. 'Come on girl, get a move on,' said my father. 'We're all going up town.' 'Whatever for?' 'To join the crowds to celebrate,' he replied. So, back we all went to Catford Bridge Station, boarded the first train and alighted at Charing Cross to find crowds of people all milling about. The air of excitement was unbelievable. 'Where are we going now?' I asked my father. 'Up the Mall and along to the Palace,' he replied. There must have been thousands of us merrily wending our way through Admiralty Arch and into the Mall. There were bonfires everywhere, throwing flames into the air and lighting our way. After all the years of blackout and blue lightbulbs, it was truly glorious to be able to have light around us which was of our own making. On and On up the Mall we walked, so closely packed and excited that we felt totally united in our happiness. Finally we reached the area around the Victoria and Albert Memorial, which was already covered with people who had climbed up and around it for a better view of the palace. Slowly a chant grew louder, 'We want the King!' Until it became a roar, and then the tall doors on the balcony finally opened and the royal family came into view. The cheers that welcomed their appearance must have been heard miles away. Lena Richardson
In the early days of the war we used to talk of what we would do when it all ended. I remember my aunt used to say when she brought in the early morning cup of tea -'One day nearer, Peg.' But a lot of water had gone under the bridge since those days. Now I was older and perhaps wiser. I have no memories of feeling numb-no feeling of euphoria. Three months previously a dear and valued friend, who was also my daughters godfather, had been shot down on a bombing raid and we had only recently received confirmation. Earlier in the war my young brother had been killed in a similiar way-and so many of the boys from the church would not be coming home. I could not help remembering them. I recall feeling somewhat like a robot as I completed my household chores-and had the hope that someone from the family would come over (they were living in Clapham at the time). No telephones to be able to ring up and chat about it. It was all so quiet everywhere-the house-the road. Only the elderly widower in the basement. I remember sitting by the window with my 20 month old daughter on my lap. I recall how-in the early days of the Blitz, going for a walk by myself and thinking-the world-and life as we knew it-had gone for good, and despite the fact one was grateful that at least in the European war there was no threat of danger-this feeling I had in the Blitz reinforced. I went to bed that night-early-and must confess - cried myself to sleep! Maragaret Kippin
One day there was great excitement. The War was over, it was VE Day, and people were singing and dancing in the streets all over the land, while great crowds flocked to Trafalgar Square, and everyone had a high old time. So what did I do? I got up early as usual, milked and mucked out the cows, put the churns out to be collected and fed the other animals, there being no-one else to do it! My landlady's husband helped with the afternoon milking so I would be finished early, then we all went down to the village pub for a party. I didn't feel wildly excited being the only stranger in this small community, although I must say I was generously included in everything, but I wanted to be with my own family and friends, although I knew it wasn't possible. Most of all I wanted to be able to get to Trafalgar Square and join in the excitement with all the other Londoners. However we all had a happy evening in and around the pub, and the following day went back to work, at least those that were capable did ! Dorothy Barton (WLA)
I went on working in my temporary job until I had a letter from HQ telling me I was being replaced by a permanent girl, the farmer having decided not to have the cowman back, so I returned to the Hostel where I was stationed. However it was not the same. While I had been away, a lot of girls had returned home, our very dear Matron had become ill and had been retired, and there seemed very little purpose in anything any more. We went on working on the land until some time near the end of harvesting (after the end of the war in Japan, which seemed to fizzle out quietly with little excitement), when I fainted one day, fortunately on the ground after having just come down a ladder from the top of a stack! The doctor told me it was time I went home, as I'd done enough farm work, so I was released from the Land Army and went home for a rest before looking for a job. Dorothy Barton (WLA)
I can remember feeling very bitter at this time. A lot of young men I'd known had died. My sister and many friends had married and moved away, and I was living at home with my parents and much younger brother, with whom at the time I had little in common. Also, I received nothing from the Land Army except a few clothing coupons, whereas other women's services were fully equipped upon release and also received a certain amount of money. I was in a awful predicament because none of my civilain clothes fitted me! Although I hadn't put on much weight, I had become fitter and more muscular because of the heavy work, so there was a lot on pinching, scraping and begging of coupons from various people, mainly by my mother, who was marvellous! Dorothy Barton (WLA)
Although the war was over, food and clothing was still rationed, and a vast amount of bomb damage had not been cleared away. Everything was in short supply so an army of 'Spivs' sprang up, able to get anything for anyone, at a price of course, and usually illegally. People were exhausted and had little enthusiasm for anything much, and although all were pleased the war was actually over, somehow it seemed to leave a empty space. We didn't quite know what to do with ourselves! After being geared up for six years not only to survive but also to win the war, now having won it, what were we going to do with it? Dorothy Barton (WLA)
