My Mother's Story (Joan's War)

My Mother's Story

My grandfather served in the Army and it would appear, that everywhere he was posted, the family went with him. The family returned from India in the early 1930s and my grandfather took up a clerical post at the Royal Hospital, Chelsea from the early 1930s. My grandmother also worked there as the Cook, in fact the whole family lived in the Cook’s House which was actually part of the Royal Hospital building (today, there is a Snooker Hall downstairs where part of their living accommodation was). The family lived there until around 1952 when my Grandparents retired to New Romney.

My mother had a brother, who served in the signal department of the RAF, and a younger sister, who served in the WRAF, married an American and became one of the first “War Brides”. My mother worked as a seamstress in Harrods Department Store. She left school at 14 years to be trained as an apprentice. Her apprenticeship finished at 19 years of age, just one year before war started. In 1939 just before the war started, all the seamstresses employed by Harrods were sent to work at Harvey Nicholls, and were put to the task of sewing soldiers uniforms in an underground factory room The hours they worked would have been questionable these days – from 8.00 in the morning until 8.00 in the evening. They never knew what to expect when they came out of the sewing rooms. Sometimes everything was flattened and sirens were screaming.

In 1940 my parents had planned to marry in July. However, in 1939 all leave for the Army was cancelled and the wedding had to be brought forward to June and the venue was changed from Christchurch, Chelsea, London to St Peters Church, Lincoln, Lincolnshire. My mother said it was a terrible time, as my father and his regiment had just “disappeared” and it seemed like ages before contact could be made and alternative arrangements for the wedding made. Harrods gave my parents a presentation mantelpiece clock as a wedding present, it has the “original” wedding date on, which, at the time could not be changed.

All single women were called up, but as my mother was married she carried on working at Harrods. She had to return to live with her parents, as the Flat she had with my father was bombed. My father was in a state of panic when he saw it on returning to London on leave, but my mother had been in the underground work room of Harvey Nicholls, so had not been harmed.

My mother only went down the shelter once, and that was a time when all the enemy aircraft were jettisoning their bombs and they were almost buried alive there. Every other time, whenever there was an air-raid they all went to the basement and took their chance, under the big wooden Kitchen table. The Royal Hospital, Chelsea did get hit, but no-one in the family got injured.

My father spent almost the entire war, defending the country dug in trenches in Lincolnshire, whilst my mother and the rest of the family were in London, facing whatsoever Hitler and the enemy had to throw at them. It was not a good time for any of them. Although they were all living in London for most of the war, we were indeed one of the lucky families in that no-one was killed.

My father’s parents moved out of London to the relative safety of the “country” of Eastcote in Middx. (My mother thought it was the heart of the country as she had been there on a Sunday School outing once). My father’s sister joined the Land Army and his brother also served in the Army. I believe both “Grandads” were active in the Homeguard. In 1943 my father was discharged from the Army, as he developed very bad dermatitis. He returned to work on the Railway and lived with his parents in Eastcote. My mother had to apply to the Court to enable her to go and live in Eastcote and change her job to one nearer home. She was sent to the sheds in Ruislip making gun parts, on shift work. The job finished at Christmas and I was born the following February. My mother was not able to finish work early, as no-one would believe she was pregnant until she was able to produce a special certificate. She was very mal-nourished, as rations were hard and basic food was difficult to come by. It seemed to me as young child, that as well as growing vegetables and fruit, everyone kept chickens and rabbits in the back gardens, I wonder what Eastcote would be like now if that were still the case.

My father died at 71 years of age and my mother is still alive at 83 years old, living in Eastcote in the house we moved to in 1948.

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