Part 5 - The War Years

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It was 1942, three years of war behind us, three more to go.

I was born in a nursing home and then for the next four years lived at my Grandparents home on Linden Road, Bournville. It was a three bed-roomed house and my cot was in the smallest of the three at the front. During those four years, I can only very vaguely remember three events, and one, was getting my head stuck between the bars of my cot in that front room.

Yes, we were ‘kept in cages’ in those days. Not only cots with bars, but also ’playpens’ with bars - and coloured beads let into one side, for us to count the hours to our next feed of Ostermilk!

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Of course, everyone in the family with a box camera, was taking photographs of young Bernard, the new arrival, and it will come as no surprise that my archives are not short of a few of these.

I have chosen a handful , but not too many, as I have never liked looking at loads of pictures of other peoples babies. Perhaps it’s just a ‘bloke thing’. I don’t know?

Here’s one taken in the front garden of me, looking grumpy, and Mom looking proud. 

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I look a bit on the large size for a pram, but I expect we were off, with our Ration Books, up to George Masons, the grocers in Cotteridge. A fair walk - for Mom.

Dad used to work in George Masons years ago - so he told me. I expect it was a part-time job as I always remember him working at Cadburys. He started at Cadburys in 1935, so did four years there, before joining the RAF.

He told me, that when at Masons, if they came across any broken eggs in the shop deliveries, they were to take them out and throw them away. Not being one to see things go to waste, he used to go out the back and eat them raw! I assume he threw the shells away first!

Now here’s one of Dad taking me out for a ride round the Valley pool in the pram.

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I’m sure that you can guess, that during the war years, prams were hard-to-come-by. In fact as ’rare as hen’s teeth’ - so I’m told. But my father had a sister, my Aunty Gladys, who worked as a buyer for Bentalls, the departmental store. She came to the rescue, as I was her first nephew, and she managed to get one ’through the trade’. Lucky me. I think I’d rather have had a model train set, but obviously Mom and Dad were over the Moon.

That pram, was of course, put up in the loft and later used again and again, for both my brothers, Colin and Adrian.  (As were the cot and the ‘playpen’.)

Up Cotteridge way, along Northfield Road (at No 63) I had a Great Grandmother, who just couldn’t wait to get her hands on me. (I still have this trouble with the ladies - I really don’t know what the attraction is?) I have only a few photos of Great-gran, but  I did manage to find one of her, in the back garden, giving me a good check-over.

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I’m glad I have that picture, because those lovely white rockery stones that you see there - are still with me in my garden here today. This is absolutely true. When Great-gran died, Dad and I moved them to Mulberry Road and from there they were brought in the boot of my car here, to Bourne End. They were not moved for sentimental reasons but because they are so unusual. When I get a minute, I must try to get round to identifying them. 

Now here is my very one-and-only, favourite picture .

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Gosh! We do look well fed - even though there was a war on.

Well, whilst Dad was away servicing Spitfires, and Pop (granddad) was engaged on building them, up at the Austin works in Longbridge, I had to take over the job of ‘garden maintenance’.

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And of course, resting afterwards with a well earned ‘half-pint’.

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I’ve just noticed that someone has provided me with a pair of ‘ballet shoes’.

Little 'strappy' ones with buttons!

And finally, a sort of official (war-time) photograph taken in a studio,

 ‘Somewhere in England‘.

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It may have been in one of those two memorable stores, Lewis’s and Greys. 

All of us children, certainly  had loads of pictures taken up ‘in town’.

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