Granny's wartime memories.

Our first child was born on the l0th April 1940, and we both had our wish for a son, Dennis, granted. I am afraid that I was so busy and happy that I did not take in all the war talk. I expect Bill, my husband, did but he did not let on to me if he was worried about it all. Of course we started getting prepared: preparing the shelter, gas masks, and a small case in case it was needed. By September 1940 we realised that things were going to be bad. Our next door neighbour, Tom Traynor, had let our Anderson shelter lower into the ground, and made a very strong wooden barrier in front of the doorway (thank God). The Woolwich Arsenal, where my Dad worked, got bombed, and further up the Thames the docks were also very badly bombed. We got all this knowledge by word of mouth at the time. I was very worried about my Dad as I knew that he suffered with his nerves.
On the night of the 7th September the siren went, and Bill, Con Traynor, Dennis and I went into the shelter. We had made three benches round the inside and down the middle, and a kind of cot to put Dennis in. We settled down. Bill, after being at work all day at Vickers at Crayford, laid down and I believe dropped off to sleep. Con and I sat talking, wondering about all the rest of our families, and her Tom who was on night work at Battersea Power Station. Guns were firing, and planes were going over. I don't know how long we were sitting there listening to this, when we both heard a whirling noise coming closer. We both got up and leant over Dennis to shield him, when all hell seemed to be let loose, rubble and dust flew into the shelter. Bill jumped up, but it was pitch dark, we couldn't see a thing because of all the dust, etc., flying everywhere. We just sat there and had no idea about what had happened. We heard much later that it was an aerial torpedo, a 1000 pounder. Bill's Dad later met somebody on the train who had seen the plane caught in the lights, and with the guns going hell for leather at him, he had just dropped his load. Meanwhile, the guns were still being fired, the ground was shaking, and we could hear things falling and glass tinkling. All of a sudden a rather fat ARP chappy put his head in the doorway, and he asked us what number houses we lived in.
“Numbers 7 and 9”, we said.
“Well at number 9 there's a great big crater. Anybody hurt in here?” he asked.
Con told him I had been hit in the back by something that flew in and was shaken up, and he gave me some Sal Volatile to drink, and that was all the help we got, as he told us to stay where we were until the All Clear went. So we sat there with Con saying, “Never mind, you can come and live in with Tom and me”. Oh my, little did we know what was going to greet our eyes when daylight came. The All Clear sounded at day break and we climbed out of the shelter. In those days, before TV, we had no idea of what to expect, so the shock was great. The crater nearly reached the board that Tom had built in front of the shelter, and where numbers 9 and 11 should have stood, there was a very deep hole. Half of number 11A was gone, and the rubble from 9 and 11 was holding up Con and Tom's house number 7. All the houses in the cul-de-sac (Norfolk Gardens) had damaged roofs and windows, etc., and behind us (in Littleheath Road) all the houses were damaged and no fences remained. We just stood there in a state of shock, for in those early days of the war there was no real organisation to help the likes of us. Some kind people from streets away came and took us to their house and made us some tea, etc. When we left we had to go through the gardens at the back of us. I must have said some-thing about losing all of Dennis's clothes and that Bill only had slippers on, because somebody there found a pair of shoes that fitted Bill, and then somebody came in with some baby clothes. It was very kind of them but I was heartbroken later when I really had a good look at them, and thought about all the lovely things I had made for Dennis with my own hands. These were all well washed and the woollens were all matted together. It was so kind of everybody but I couldn't help but be upset. Well, we all went back to Norfolk Gardens and looked at things from the front. There on Con's roof was my eiderdown, our bedroom clock on her window sill, and my underclothes all over the road. There was still no help, so as Con's brother lived near my Mum we decided to walk all together to them carrying Dennis between us. We were lucky when we got to Con's brother’s as they had a pram which they lent us, so Bill and I were able to carry on to my Mum and Dad’s (in Westbrook Road, Welling). Of course they were shocked when they saw us, and they took us in. I cannot really remember what happened next, but I believe my brother Frank got in touch with Bill's parents and his brother Ron. Then Ron, Frank and Bill went back to Norfolk Gardens to see what was what. They found a few bits and pieces of our stuff, some pieces of china, our cutlery, eggs unbroken, and in the bottom of the crater they could see the wireless set Bill's parents had bought us for a wedding present, but they couldn't reach it. Of course the next day when they got there it had gone and we never saw it again. There was such a lot that we lost, and you can never really remember everything we did have. A few odds and ends were eventually saved from our first home - a cut glass vase, a salad bowl with a round silver top, cutlery, 4 or 5 bits of a tea service I had bought for my bottom drawer, a pewter teapot, jug, and sugar bowl, and a nut cracker which were wedding presents. Quite a few of Bill's books were saved which the Belvedere folk (my Dad’s family) looked after for us. We heard a few years later that one of our neighbours had been caught and fined for pinching some wood off the site.
I don't know how long we stayed with my parents but eventually it was felt that I needed to get away. My mother contacted her sister Auntie Jennie Baldock, and they had me to stay with them. Eventually I started to worry about everybody at Welling so back I went again, this time to live with Bill's parents. They had made their shelter much deeper, it was two storeys. They had removed so much soil that they made a floor with steps going down to a lower level. All the home comforts. We stayed there for quite some time, but then things got bad again in one way or another. So off we went again, this time to Oxfordshire, to Bill's eldest sister Betty and her husband. Bill was very lucky and managed to change his job for war work at the Morris factory. During the time we stayed there Dennis spent a short time in the Radcliffe Hospital, as he had to have a small operation. Unfortunately things did not turn out well at Betty’s as she expected me to do all the dirty work, and I finished up with really bad chilblains on my hands and feet. They also wouldn't let Bill play their piano. They liked us to get out in the evenings, so said they would keep an eye on Dennis, so we used to go out to the Oxford Theatre, where we first saw Rosalie Crutchley. Bill thought she was very good. One time when we got back we found Dennis lying in his cot with no covers on, and half the stuffing from the mattress all over the floor. He must have been crying and upset, and they never took any notice of him. The last straw was when I realised that Betty was pinching some of our butter ration. Her excuse was that we were getting butter for three, and Dennis didn't eat all of his, and Bill didn't like butter. For some time there was a bit of an upset, not helped by the fact that Betty and I had never really hit it off. Bill found us two rooms, with use of a kitchen, with somebody he worked with.
Once again, don't ask how long we were there, but I fell for another baby, and the couple were not that keen on having us there with another child. Also, I wanted to have my baby at the same place that Dennis had been born. So once again we made our way back to my parents at Welling. Also, Bill was lucky to get his old job back at Crayford. Of course, all this time we were having air raids on and off. During this time Dennis had to go in to have his throat and nose (tonsils and adenoids) done at the Shooters Hill hospital. I managed to get booked up at the Home for Babies in Woolwich where Dennis was born. Over the Christmas of 1942 Dennis had measles and I had been sleeping downstairs with him as we could not risk taking him out to the shelter if there had been a raid. Just after Christmas, on my usual trip to the home, they wanted me to go in there and then. Anyway I did go home, but went back the next day. I learnt afterwards that they were worried about me putting on so much weight, ankles swollen, etc., so it was bed rest for me. I was well looked after and examined many times. They kept on listening to the baby, and in the end I asked them if anything was wrong. They told me that one of the sisters could hear two heartbeats, but the rest couldn't so we were none the wiser. One night, which must have been the 18th January 1943, we had a very bad raid, most of it on Lewisham. We were all down in the cellar at the home, and of course I got into a bit of a state and was sick. Next morning, before I had a chance to get in touch with anybody, I was packed off in a car with another patient, and a WVS driver, and driven off to this country home at Paddock Wood in Kent. On the way I kept getting these tummy pains, but thought they were just something to do with being so sick the night before. Of course, in the end it was one mad rush because I learnt afterwards that the poor driver thought she was going to have to stop and deliver me in a field. When we arrived at the big house I was taken straight to the delivery room and before I knew what was happening one baby (Rosalind) was born. A Doctor was there and I suddenly heard somebody say "Quick, a breech birth". A bell rang, but before the rest of the staff could get there, another baby arrived (Ann). Everything was going on around me, and I was just told "Two girls". I know they were working on Ann, but never got told why. Anyway I was taken into a ward, and everybody was so quiet. I heard somebody say that they had been told to keep quiet, so I got worried as I thought something was wrong with my babies. So I called out to a nurse and asked what was the matter. To put my mind at rest they brought a baby cot in with my two daughters in it, lying one at the top and one at the bottom. I looked at them closely to make sure all the bits and pieces were quite okay. They were taken away and I was told to get some sleep, while in the meantime they would send Bill a telegram to let him know that he had twin daughters. By what I was told he was playing the piano when it arrived so he just told my Mum and Dad what it said, put on his coat and went off to Cleveland Road, Welling, to tell his parents and then went down to Woolwich to see us, but of course when he got there he got a shock and was told I had been taken to Paddock Wood. So home he went again to find out how he could get to Paddock Wood from Welling. He made the journey next day to see us, and I believe it was quite a journey for him. I was very pleased to see him, and the girls were brought in in the carry cot. He looked at them and said this one is going to be a lady, and this one will be the tomboy. And he was right. I was kept in the home for three weeks and was shown how to feed both of the girls at the same time. In the meantime at home everybody was very busy getting clothes coupons from anybody who could spare them, and getting busy making another set of things for the extra baby we had, as I had only made for one.
Then in 1944 we thought we would take a holiday, and booked to go to Combe Martin, near Ilfracombe. Just a few nights before we were due to go the Buzz bombs (V1) started so we were glad to get away. We were not very lucky with our digs, as we had to sleep all in one room and every day our main meal was meat rissoles. There was a doctor and his wife staying there too. I won't say what they said about the food. We must have heard from home about the Buzz bombs coming over thick and fast, so I decided to stay, just the children and myself. We went round Ilfracombe and found somewhere to stay, just a small box room for us all to sleep. After a week or two I heard from Bill. He told me to pack up and return home as he had made arrangements for us to be evacuated, taking Jeanette (his youngest sister) with us. Well off we went landing up just on the outskirts of Birmingham. Well Jeanette got taken okay, but it was difficult to find anyone to take the four of us, and I would not let us be split up. In the end somebody did take us in, but they had a gentleman lodger, who was turned out of his room into a box room. We had his room. The people were very nice. We were very happy there, but when the Arnhem drop went on their son was in it, and they were so worried and upset by the whole affair that they could not put up with us as well, which I understood. Fortunately they were able to find us somewhere else, again a nice couple, but nowhere near as comfortable as before.
At this time I became unwell, so once again it was back to Welling. Bill had been on to Erith Council, and they had found us a house in Bedonwell Road, so my sister Flo, who was also staying with my Mum and Dad used to go with my three and her son, Ken, over to start cleaning the house. We had not really done a lot when one day while we were there everything went boom again. A V2 had fallen just up the road. Dennis and Ken were coming down the stairs and they finished up with the front door on top of them, so once again we had another house not fit to live in. Dennis says this happened on 13 February 1945 (Bolts from the Blue by Lewis Blake, 1990). Again I was on my travels, this time to South Wales to my cousin Doll's mother-in-law. This time while I was there I went to classes and learnt how to cut out for dressmaking.
We did not have to stay there too long and we came back to live in a Nissen Hut that Erith Council had put up in a recreation ground (Lessness Avenue). There were several rows of huts for the bombed out folk. Con and Tom lived just behind us. The Nissen hut was one large room, partitioned into three. There was one large living area with a kitchen area partitioned off to one side. There was an open fire, and two equal sized bedrooms. We managed with help from our two families to get enough furniture together to make it seem a bit like a home. The toilet and coal cupboard were outside and as the walls were continually running with water you had to have a fire all the time in order to keep warm. We lived there for two years through the very cold winter of 1947 before returning to the house that had been rebuilt over the crater at 9 Norfolk Gardens.

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