Marjorie's D-Day

I spent most of D.Day in a railway siding, somewhere between Crewe and Bletchley. I was a seventeen-year old schoolgirl, going to Cambridge to take a latin exam. Coming from a very ordinary family living in a council house in Liverpool, with no member of my family having gone to university, I had recently taken the necessary entrance exams and gained a place at Newnham College. But I couldn’t take it up unless I had matriculated in Latin, a subject I had never studied. My academic aspirations depended entirely on the advice and encouragement of my Headmistress, a doughty lady of scots origin who was herself a Newnham graduate. She had determined that I should follow in her footsteps and nothing should get in the way. Our school, a small high school for girls, lacked a suitable teacher and so, for six weeks, I had spent every evening after school going for latin lessons with a master from a boy’s school.

This was an adventure in itself. It involved a bus journey where I had to change buses at Penny Lane (yes, the Penny Lane, opposite the fire station where the firemen keep their clean machine.) I had quite a long wait in the bus shelter with plenty of time to con my Latin verbs, as I did during the long bus journey. Finally I was as prepared as I would ever be to sit the ‘Littlego’ examination of the University of Cambridge., in June 1944.

In those days, young ladies led a protected existence, and I had only travelled on a train on my own once before, when I had gone for my college interview.So I felt very bold when my father saw me off at Lime Street Station, with a little packet of sandwiches (probably fish-paste, because that didn’t need coupons) and my latin crammer in my overnight bag. The train seemed pretty crowded with service-men, and I found a corner-seat in a carriage with a couple of civilians and two U.S. Army officers. I was nervous about U.S personnel. after all the stories I had heard at school about what went on at Burtonwood airbase. But these two young men seemed very polite. We set off and engaged in friendly conversation They quizzed me about why I was travelling , and were apparently interested in my attepts to go to college. Both of them had been to college in middle America, and we chatted happily about what they had studied and what I hoped to study, as we moved on cheerfully in time and space.

Gradually, after an hour or two, we realised that the train had come to a standstill, in a siding somewhere between Crewe and Rugby . We waited patiently at first, but nothing happened. Then , if we listened carefully, we could head trains, one after another, thundering down the Main line south. I ate my little packet of sandwiches, and the other travellers did the same, and the officers produced iron rations and cans of soft drinks. We sat and we sat, still chatting happily, for several hours, wondering if we would ever move again. Our U.S. friends were most generous and when our meagre civilian rations ran out, they raided their kit bags for more supplies which they shared with us; sophisticated concentrated food sources and delicious Hershey bars. They were very well provisioned.

Finally, in the late afternoon, the train rumbled on again. I had to change at Bletchley, onto the local line to Cambridge. I said goodbye to my new friends, and thanked them for their company and kindness. They wished me well for my college career. After further waiting, I finally arrived at Cambridge station
at about ten o’clock. The train was full of US airmen from the bases
in East Anglia. They bagged all the taxis and the last bus into town had gone. I arrived at Newnham in a somewhat bedraggled state and very late. My future tutor had waited up for me. She ushered me into her elegant sitting-room and asked me if I had had a good journey. Totally tongue-tied and exhausted, I assented briefly. ‘I usually have a glass of hot water before I retire’ she said. ‘Would you care to join me?’

Next day, before my exam, we heard of the previous days’ happenings on the south coast. I achieved the minimal requirements of Littlego latin, and in 1945, won the State Scholarship which enabled me to take up my university career. But I have never forgotten those two charming ‘Yanks’. I hope they survived.

© Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.