Essay 3 of 7 - Wartime Childhood

Reminiscences from the period of WW2.
A collection of seven essays.

Author - Brian E. Dowden - born 8th. October 1933.

Introduction

Both during and after the war I lived on an estate built by the (then) London County Council in Carshalton, Surrey. I was thus some 10 to 15 miles away from the London areas that suffered worst in the blitz, but yet close enough to be affected by the war on a day-to-day basis. Noted below are my recollections of the period.

Essay 3 of 7 - Wartime Childhood.

Of course us kids had practically nothing by way of toys, but then we had never known matters to be different. Hence we developed our own amusements, and these took full advantage of the 1940’s situation. The street was our playground. No-one owned a motor vehicle, and in any event there was no petrol available for pleasure use, and hence the street was ‘blocked’ each day only by the transient presence of the horses and carts used for deliveries of milk and bread. And at this time a favourite game of ‘dare’ was to run between the horse’s legs whilst his cart was stationary. (This particularly applied if a male horse was about to urinate.) However our more usual games included a variation on cricket called ‘tip it and run’ in which if the batsman just touched the ball he had to attempt to score at least one run or be declared ‘out’, (the ‘wicket’ was a dustbin). We also played the standard form of ‘rounders’. In each of these games the full length of the road formed our playing area. Other games involved the use of a ball and sticks of wood, and these were played across the road. We played marbles along the kerbside and various games on the pavement. We made ‘carts’ from lengths of wood and old pram wheels or sometimes ball-races originally made for use on items such as aero-engines, and these were raced down-hill on the road or pavement at maximum possible speed. We acquired (from where I know not) tyres large enough for a boy to crouch inside. We would then hold ‘tyre fights’ in which tyres, each with a boy inside, would be wheeled at running speed against each other with the intention of knocking opposing tyres over. In a small area of woodland some 100 metres from our road we played various versions of ‘tag’, and these games inevitably involved climbing trees to a level beyond (or so you hoped) someone chasing you could reach. And then behind my home at 20, Winchcombe Road, there were two fields, each about the size of a football pitch. One of these fields was made over to allotment use, but the other was left as a wild piece of waste-land scrub. In this latter field we dug our camps, climbed along a row of trees, and made play as only children can. And finally, when not in our own immediate area we would paddle, fish, and generally fool around in various ponds and tributaries of the River Wandle. In short we were a wild bunch that, in retrospect, seemed to face a far greater prospect of home-made injury than any that Adolf Hitler could impose. But in practice I do not remember any injuries other than grazed skin being caused, so perhaps we were unconciously operating some form of safety limit. However for all the wild nature of much of our play, we were not destructive. Thus I know of no occasion in which the allotments were raided for items of produce and neither do I know of any damage caused to street furniture. For example the roads on the estate were lit pre-war by gas, and there are few items more delicate than a gas mantle. Of course as kids we would climb up the lamp-posts and swing from the ladder-arm, but I know of no instance in which the protective glass or the gas mantles were damaged. It just did not occur to us to do such things. In contrast today, and in the same location, the street lights are protected by vandal-proof covers. No-one now dares to allow a child to paddle (especially when unsupervised and bare-foot) in the River Wandle and its associated ponds. Also the fields noted above have been made into two football pitches that are separated from the adjacent pavement by a 3m+ chain-link fence. Presumably 22 or 44 kids can play sanitised games of football on occasions during the school term, and then be denied access to the fields on summer evenings and during the school holidays. The trees I climbed as a child are long gone. In this area there are now blocks of flats and thus another of my play areas is not available to the children of today. And of course the residents of the St. Helier Estate now own cars and, because no meaningful parking arrangements have been organised, these are parked in the road and/or on the pavement. The density of parking is such that recently I had difficulty in driving my own vehicle through my war-time home area. This means of course that my old ‘street playground’ is not available to the children of today, and, as if to add insult to injury, on the one and only area of grass within 150m of my previous home there are two signs -- ‘No ball games’! Dear reader, I might appear to have strayed from the path of my childhood, but, despite our war-time privation and the dangers inherent in both our play and the conflict, I feel that I had a far better childhood than that available in my old home area today. What are we now doing to our children!?

Perhaps however I have implied a war-time childhood as being better than was in fact the case. We could play as described because after the Battle of Britain we felt that the Luftwaffe dare not stray far over the English countryside during day-light hours. We also knew that if we were away from home when an air-raid warning sounded, then almost anyone would invite us into their home and shelter. However there were no toys in the shops, and in any case my parents had no money for such items even if they had been available. Thus all our toys were either second-hand or home-made. (And it is amazing how many games can be devised on a river bank with a few sticks cut from a nearby shrub with a pen-knife.) The code by which one lived was that of survival, and this meant fighting with other boys when considered necessary. Also our parents accepted this code as the norm unless they heard of bullying by an older boy against one who could not defend himself. As a victim, I recall one Christmas, probably 1941 or 1942, when my total sum of gifts comprised three or four small sugary sweets and a toy boat. The boat was hand-made by a friend of my father and it was built using a piece of wood about 5cm wide * 7cm high and about 35cm long. This piece of wood was sharpened at the ‘front end’, had a strip of lead nailed to its underside, and was fitted on top with a length of dowelling as a mast, some pieces of wood as a superstructure, and two small lengths of tubular metal as funnels. It was painted blue, and given to me as a model ‘destroyer’, but it was clear to me that it bore little resemblance to our naval vessels of the same name. Nevertheless it was ‘my boat’, and in a day or so I took it to a pond some 4km from home in The Grange park in order to see how it floated on water. Well it did float, and upright, just. The lead on its underside gave it stability, but left the ‘deck’ almost at water level. Then two older boys appeared on the scene and to them the sinking of my destroyer by stoning it to death seemed to be a good idea. I had to endure what seemed to be an age in which my boat was both hit and damaged by stones and was also driven further into the pond. Eventually the boys finished their sport and I was left to paddle in cold water in order to retrieve my mutilated boat. Father was furious at what had happened, but as the boys were unknown to me, nothing could be done about the incident. But the injustice of the event, when otherwise I had no toys worthy of the term, still leaves a feeling of resentment.

In summary, all children at that time played in the street and local parks, usually in groups, and they made up their own forms of amusement. Also, not infrequently, we made the toys or tools necessary for our games. Elder children were also often required to look after their younger siblings. Thus, without realising it, we were using our initiative to make up the means to attain our ends, and also developing our community, social and family-based skills. However, as indicated above, we were a wild bunch. Quite often our play placed us at significant risk of injury, and this was not prevented by our parents. Perhaps after a night in an air-raid shelter, and hearing the crump of bombs exploding, it was difficult for parents to deny their children full expression in their forms of play. After all, tomorrow we could all be dead. Also no thought was given by our parents to a need for ‘educational’ toys in order to ‘improve’ a child as is the case today. Not only were such items not available, but it was expected that boys would follow their fathers into a menial form of work and that girls would live out their lives at home as housewives and mothers. Today’s toys, such as plastic gizmos driven electronically, cannot be made by a child or indeed his/her parents, and much computer-based activity is solitary in its performance. Who had a better childhood in terms of matters important to children, and ultimately society? Today’s child has educational toys, but lacks the freedom in play and, in a measure, the social interaction of my age-group. Yesteryear or today? Who had or has the better childhood? The final comment two paragraphs above gives my opinion.

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