My Mum’s Story

My Mum’s Story is a World War II Experience: A Personal Story, although set in Yorkshire, it is a story of a young woman living through the war and VE Day.

I left School at 18.

That was in 1939.  

The year World War 2 broke out in September.

  I remember that day very well.

We had been to Church in the morning and as we were all walking out up the path to the little Church gate a young man came running towards us shouting War has been declared’ The Air Raid Sirens started sounding and it was really weird.

We expected the German bombers coming tearing overhead and bombing us all to pieces.

The Prime Minister had given it out on the radio.

We had been expecting it to happen for quite sometime but didn’t think it really would.

My Dad and lots of other men-built dugouts in their gardens and covered them with metal roofs.

Luckily we never had to use them.

There was a small market town 8 miles away called Pocklington, and an Aerodrome as it was called in those days, had been built there.

Lots of RAF Squadrons moved in and we girls had never seen so many young, fit men walking around.

The local Dance Hall was renovated, and dances were held on a Wednesday and Saturday.

There was also several pubs and a cinema.

I was beginning to start looking for work, so on a Saturday morning we went into Hull 20 odd miles away and I used to go for shorthand and typing lessons.

Everyone had to get War work’

In Pocklington an Office was set up by the NAAFI.

That was a worldwide establishment for the Forces.

They had shops and food etc.

In Pocklington a NAAFI Area Supervisor had set up an Office and had advertised for a secretary, and as everyone had to do War work, I applied for the job.

And I got it.

 I spent some happy years there.

There was just me and another girl.

Then after settling in at work and also finding new friends I thought I would try the dancehall!!

That was great fun.

There were about ten times more men than girls, so we were well away.

I just loved dancing too.

And now for THE most wonderful moment of my life!!

Enid and I went dancing and after we had been asked for several dances we were sat at the side with friends.

We were all chatting away and then I looked up and there was this most gorgeous young airman coming towards us.

 I just thought boy oh boy I wonder who the lucky girl is going to be.

And believe it or not it was ME.

I thought what on earth have I done to deserve this.

As soon as we started dancing, I could tell he was a lovely dancer, so that was a bonus too.

I remember quite clearly looking at him with a sideway glance and he had the most wonderful blue eyes and dark lashes.

 I was in heaven!

After the dance he took me back to the girls and I thought that was that.

But no, he came and asked me again later, and then again and again, and we hit it off fine.

When the last Waltz came, the music started playing Who’s taking you home tonight’ and I sat there shivering in my shoes because he had vanished.

The he popped up from nowhere and came and asked me for the last waltz

And that wasn’t the end!

He actually asked to TAKE ME HOME!

And that was the beginning of our 60 years together.

How about that?

We regularly met up after that and became the best of pals.

We used to pop into one of the pubs to just have a drink before going dancing or the cinema or somewhere, and I mentioned to the landlady, who was and old lady, that my Dad wouldn’t be pleased if he knew I was in there, so bless her she suggested we go and sit by the fire in her kitchen! 

And that is what we always did.

I always used to go up home for the weekends on the bus and then on a Sunday the local taxi man would run me down 4 miles to catch the bus back.

No buses from Huggate on a Sunday.

I remember one Sunday night I popped to our outside toilet in the dark and I could see flashes in the sky, and there were bombs being dropped near Pocklington Aerodrome.

Nevertheless, I carried on and went back.

Then Dad came up to see me in Huggate one weekend, but I will leave that for the next page.

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One Saturday when I was up at home for the weekend, we had VERY heavy snow.

The snowploughs had been out all day.

When it got dark in the evening I looked out of the window, and I could see someone walking about outside.

I went to see who it was, because in those days we were never frightened of burglars or anything.

And am I glad I did, because guess who it was.

It was Dad!!!

They should have been flying that night but for some reason it was cancelled at the last minute, so he said he decided to come and see me.

He got a bus In Pocklington, and halfway the driver said he didn’t go to Huggate but straight on.

So, Dad had to get out.

He set off and walked on the snowy roads, with the snow piled as high as him on both sides with the snowplough churning, it around.

He had to walk 4 miles on the lonely dark country roads.

Eventually he spotted a light and made his way to it he said, and it was the village pub, so he went inside and asked if they could direct him to the Schoolhouse.

Well, I asked him in and took him in the front room to meet my Dad and to get warm by the fire.

My Dad offered him a cigar, and he said he didn’t like to refuse, and he said he had never felt so sick.

I popped into the kitchen to ask my Mum what she thought of him and she said if she had been younger, she could have fallen for him herself.

So that suited me.

In the afternoon one of the village men had brought us some new potatoes out of his garden and Mum was going to make them for supper with a tin of salmon.

So, she opened another tin and did more.

With it being a Saturday evening there was a bus coming from Pocklington at 11pm, so I told Dad about it.

But he didn’t seem to worry about getting it.

I told him there wouldn’t be another until Thursday so reluctantly he got it!

In later years he said he had hoped he could have stayed the night!!

 I never thought of that.

So, I went back to Pocklingotn on the Sunday night.

He still wanted to see me again even after I pushed him on his way on the Saturday.

After that we kept up a steady relationship, and we went to Wales to spend a week with Dad’s Mum and family.

We all got on quite well together.

We were regularly meeting one another and then after about 10weeks, Dad told me that his Squadron was being posted to Malta.

First of all, they were to go to another Aerodrome, which was 10 miles away at Driffield.

The evening, he was to go, I drove him to Driffield with all his kit.

Enid, my friend came with me for company coming back home.

It was a DREADFUL night.

Raining and dark and so Dad said he would drive.

Of course, being wartime, we were not allowed to use our headlights, we had dipped ones with a bit of cover over the top to stop the enemy aircraft from spotting anyone.

Away in the distance in Hull 20 odd miles away the Germans were bombing like mad.

We could see the flashes going all the time.

To save us getting scared we started singing.

‘We plough the fields and scatter and suddenly the car did a wobble and we went down into a ditch at the side of the road.

Fortunately, we managed to right it and got on our way.

We arrived at the Aerodrome at Driffield and after a tearful goodbye, Dad set off on his way to the gatehouse to sign in at the Aerodrome.

Little did he or I realise what was going to happen in the years to come.

Sometime later his Mum wrote and told me the AWFUL news.

 She had had a letter from the R.A.F. to say while bombing North Africa their ‘plane had been shot down and they were all presumed killed.

We none of us heard any more about it for about twelve months.

So, l had to start a new life without him.

After about six months I started to go to the Dances again for a bit of company.

Eventually a soldier started asking me for dances and we got friendly.

His name was David, and he belonged to the Household Cavalry Guards.

 I’m afraid my Mum did not like him very much.

He eventually was posted to Germany, and we used to write to one another.

 In fact in one letter, he asked me to get engaged but I was not ready for that commitment.

So ,time dragged on for another three months or so, and THEN, one day I got a strange looking letter.

 I looked on the back and I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.

YES, it was from Dad!!!!!

He was ALIVE.!!!

Well, the very first thing I did was ask my boss if I could pop to the Post Office and send a telegram to his Mum.

 They we not on the phone then, to tell them the big news.

 They had not heard anything and not until he came home did he tell me that actually he had naturally sent a letter first to his Mum, but I got mine first.

He told me he was a prisoner of war, but couldn’t say much as all the mail was censored.

Of course, we wrote to each other as often as we could and through the kindness of the Red Cross we were allowed to send parcels to them.

He was still alive, and I was living again.

How thankful I was that I had not got engaged to Dave.

His Mum asked me down again to stay with them for a week and we were all happy again.

It was lovely.

Well, Dad was a prisoner of war for three and a half years bless him.

He told me all about it when he got home.

He said they were crowded together in a room, and every time they heard the German soldiers marching towards them they didn’t know if they were going to be taken away and shot.

 He said the first day he was taken prisoner one of the soldiers asked him if he knew the words to ‘Begin the Bequine’!!

He didn’t!

Well time moved on and eventually Enid married a pilot, an Irishman, and she moved away from our digs.

I stuck it for a time and then decided I would go up and live with my Mum and the cousin she lived with.

I was transferred to a NAAFI office up there in Lancaster.

The same place where I went to School.

Cousin Willie wasn’t living up there any longer, he had been killed in the war.

Dad wrote to ask me if I wanted to see him again, or if I had met someone else after all those years.

 So, I wrote back and sent him a photograph.

He wrote back saying he would love to meet up again.

I was working in Lancaster at the time.

He travelled over 100 miles by train to see me.

I went to work that morning, and I might as well have stayed at home, I was far too excited and apprehensive for work.

When I did get home about 6pm.

I gingerly opened the door and went in the room.

Oh boy, he was sat in a chair, and he just sat there and nodded his head in amazement.

 I went up to him and gave him a kiss and that was it.

His weight was down to 6 stone, but I knew it was the same person I had kissed goodbye to at Driffield Aerodrome those three and a half years ago.

My Mum bless her, went quietly into the kitchen to leave us alone for a few minutes

I was so happy that I can’t recall anything else about that day.

He was there with me and that was all that mattered.

His Mum invited me down to stay and we had a wonderful time, with so much talking to do.

Our next very big occasion was our wedding.

We were married at Lancaster in the Lancaster Priory Church by the Bishop of Lancaster.

After the reception we got the train -we had no car then- up to Hawkshead for our honeymoon.

We stayed in a Hotel.

In the evening, we popped down to the Sun Hotel.

 Later on, we had to walk about a mile back to the Hotel.

When we got there, we had no KEY!

The front door was locked.

 Why our bedroom window on the ground floor was not locked we never knew but we managed to open it and had to climb through to get in.

When we opened our cases, they were full of confetti.

We had a good laugh about it all though.

All that was way back in 1946 after the war ended.

We were up there on VJ (or was it VE night) Victory in Japan or Europe?

We went into Ambleside and everyone was dancing down the street feeling so very happy.

Before we were married and Dad came back from POW life, He lived in London with his sister Gwladys and family.

Her husband Ron was in the Metropolitan Police.

That was what Dad did before the war.

When he came back and settled down, he got a job and still lived with them.

After the war of course, everything was upside down in the country.

Dad was given £200 to start his new life!

We stayed with Gwladys and started trying to find somewhere to live.

It was hopeless.

All the other fighting forces were coming home and looking for somewhere to live.

Rationing was still in force.

We had ration books all through the war and we were only allowed a few ounces of butter, sugar etc.

Even clothes were rationed.

I hadn’t had enough coupons to buy a wedding dress.

We really started thinking about getting a home SOMEWHERE.

Eventually after a lot of applying for a job and praying we could get one soon, Dad got word that he had been offered a job in Blackburn near Lancaster.

 He went up first and bought a lovely semi with three bedrooms and we were so happy to be on our own.

Bought furniture and kitchen equipment and it was ALL OUR OWN.

And the rest in history…