Part 6 - War and Peace

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In the previous post, I said that I could only remember three events in my first four years in this World. 

All traumatic events, which is why I suppose I can still remember them.

The first, as I said, was getting my head stuck

between the bars of my cot.

The other two were related to the War that was

being waged across the World from 1939-1945, 

as little oblivious me, played on with whatever was to hand.

In those days - not much. 

Birmingham, being a manufacturing centre, was, like Coventry,

 a prime target for enemy aircraft.

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This is a house not far away, in Handsworth, 

that had just escaped a direct hit.

You can see how life went on regardless, 

as boys played in the street and ladies continued 

to hang out their washing in their back yards.

Event number two that I remember, 

was a huge blaze at a factory down in Stirchley.

My Mother held me up at her back bedroom window

to look out across the allotments to where the sky was all lit up red.

I was later told that it was at a paint factory,

but after much searching old records on the web,

I have not been able to find a date.

A bomb did drop just beyond Kings Norton railway station,

 but nothing round the houses near us.

On the web someone recalled a German plane that flew low over Cotteridge School looking for the Triplex glass factory, and how they bombed Grant’s Wood Yard one night which lit up the Watford Road, like it was daylight. 

But no records of a fire at the paint factory.

There was a hit here in Bournville though.

Bournville Lane on its way to Stirchley dives down in a tunnel

under the railway and canal which run side-by-side.

Blow this up and the canal runs dry!

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Another person recalled -

"My father lived in Stirchley as a young boy during the war years. He told me of the bomb that hit the bridge on Bournville Lane. Apparently the target was the railway because of its vital transport link for the war effort but the bomb hit the canal instead and the result was a flooded Bournville Lane and surrounding area. If you go into the tunnel you can see the large 'patch' that was put in to seal it." 

We all survived though. We had a shelter like the one shown below.

It was right down the bottom of the garden on the right hand side.

I never remember using it. Mom said we went under the stairs,

when the sirens went off. 

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To keep us company under there, we shared the space with a cupboard.

A cupboard that was stacked with these blue paper bags containing sugar!

Shops weighed out sugar for you in those days.

As it was rationed it was usually stored, for when the jam season started, 

or if you were lucky and got a few oranges in February, 

you could make Marmalade.

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October 1942 - No Marmalade to buy.

Had to be home made.

(or bought, like this jar, last week in Sainsburys)

In the garden Pop grew Gooseberries, Raspberries and Marrows.

The latter were grown all over the air-raid shelter,

and Nan made Marrow & Ginger jam.

It was all stored in a cupboard in Mom's bedroom.

The cupboard didn't have a door,

but a curtain which was drawn across the front

to hide the shelves of home-made jam.

Things must have carried on as near as normal I suppose.

I have loads of photos of little me taken

up in town in one of the big Departmental stores.

They were called Polyfoto's.

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I was plonked down, given a toy to stop me crying

and thirty or forty teeny-weeny pictures taken.

Mom would have gone back a week later to

collect the results as shown above.

They were numbered on the back and you chose

the ones that you wanted to be enlarged.

I tried to enlarge one myself.

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Me and my Golliwog.

But Mom had a different idea and chose this one.

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"Pull you socks up Boy!"

Dad was away nearly all of the time at Market Drayton,

although he obviously got some leave.

And then.....

Off down Valley Pool again, this time without the pram.

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I loved water.

and girls in water!

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No relations.

Just a couple of 'birds' I picked up in the park.

Now we come to the third thing that upset me.

It shouldn't really have upset me, because everybody else

was celebrating and enjoying themselves.

It was probably on May 9th., the day after VE day.

Someone, probably Dad carried me up

the road to a bonfire party where they had fireworks.

I remember being frightened.

I have never liked fireworks to this day.

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This little fellow didn't enjoy things either.

But there were parties in the streets.

Jelly! Loads of jelly, 

and a thing called blancmange,

usually chocolate brown in the shape of a rabbit, 

with currant eyes and sitting in a plate of grass-green jelly!

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That is not me in the picture, although I

would have been about the same size

as those in the front row.

All over now.

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Well done Dad!

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Glad you're safely back.

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