I was twelve years old when the 1939 war began. It is still very vivid in my mind. The various feelings of the people around me. The trepidation of my parents, who had already lived through the 1914 to 1918 war. The separation they felt back then, was now going to be experienced by their children. For example my father, during the first war was missing for a very long while, eventually the news came through that he was a prisoner of war. The experience affected him for the rest of his life and naturally we grew up in fear of war.

The family consisted of Mum, Dad and five children. Three girls and two boys and my grandma (Dad's mother). Born in Camden Town, London where I lived until I was seven when we moved to a house in Edmonton. Just an ordinary three bedroom semi, but to me it was like a palace, it even had an indoor toilet and bathroom. Unfortunately Dad couldn't settle and Mum missed her friends, so we moved back to Camden Town (tin bath in front of the fire and an outdoor loo again!)

When the war started I was therefore back in London. First came the fitting of gas masks (a horrible experience) but the biggest trauma was evacuation. We all assembled (children and parents) in the school hall There we were all duly labelled. My mother insisted that my little brother and sister and myself all stayed together and gave me the responsibility of making sure that separation never happened.

We finally arrived at the railway station, all labelled with our gas masks and carrier bags more or less tied to us. There were lots of tears and desperate feelings of separation ( not understood by the younger children). Big girls like me, at the age of twelve and over were forced into the roles of adult carers and comforters. I felt the role very keenly. I couldn't give way to my own feelings, as I had the youngsters to comfort.

The train journey seemed to last forever, but eventually we arrived at a place in Bedfordshire called Leagrave. From there we went on a long walk to a village called Sundon. By this time we were all thirsty and hungry, they took us to the village hall where we were all put into a line and the villagers came to choose the child or children that they were willing to take home with them. As there were three of us and with the eldest girl, me, being adamant that we were not to be separated, we remained until we were the only ones left. Eventually, a very kind woman agreed to take us. I later found out that she was 38 years old and expecting her first baby. We spent five very happy months with Mr and Mrs Norton until she felt that with a new baby she wouldn't be able to cope, so we had to be moved. By now, of course, accommodation was at a premium and unfortunately we had to be separated. My sister and I went to a Mr and Mrs Coeshall and my little brother was taken to another couple who didn't have any experience or understanding of children. My younger brother was very unhappy and started to have nightmares. The young couple's reaction was extreme to say the least. They were convinced he was a mad child and tied him to his bed (which made matters worse).

I spent several very unhappy weeks, suffering all the pangs of failing in my obligations both to my brother and my parents. We stayed in Sundon until I was 14, which was school leaving age. Then we went to stay with an aunt who lived in a village called Langford (it was a village back then).

I went to work in a factory as a machinist and received the weekly wage of twelve shillings and sixpence (12/6). The equivalent of about 62 pence. For this great wage I worked from 8 to 6 with an hour break for dinner, plus a half day on a Saturday. It was hard work and after we were trained we went on to piecework. Three shillings and sixpence for a dozen under slips and believe it or not we would be absolutely delighted when we earned another ten shillings or so on top of our basic wage of 12/6. 1 used to pay my aunt 10/- a week for my board and food. It was surprising what I could do with the money I had left.

After about 2 years I returned to London, I was about sixteen and by this time there were raids of the Doodle bugs. This was a horrendous weapon. If one was lucky there would be time to duck between hearing the whistle and The Fall. Then the terrific explosions of the doodle bugs were very frightening. Even now when I see warfilms or programmes on the television, the sound of the siren still makes my blood run cold. The Blitz was a terrible experience, my parents were bombed out and even then there were villains about. They had a habit of stealing from the bombed houses, so sometimes it seemed that life was pointless.

The rationing of food and clothes taught you that everything was precious. Sweets, fruit, stockings, feminine intimate articles, were all out of reach (luxury dreams). Butter, jam, sugar, tea, bread, meat and some vegetables. Today, these all seem such basic foods but back then they were rationed and difficult to buy. I remember our first tin of salmon towards the end of the war, we savoured every mouthful We all learned to make do, for example we all became very proficient at turning clothes, that entailed unpacking them and putting them back together again with the insides turned outside. Invisible mending became a real art and I personally used to get great satisfaction when I repaired an item of clothing.

Family life was very difficult. The mothers were left to get on with it. They became wonderful cooks and very inventive. They always managed to present the family with wholesome and enjoyable meals even though they may have had to queue for hours to get the necessary ingredients. They learnt how to make a very little go a very long way. Looking back, it seems to me that we children remained comparatively healthy and well fed. I sometimes feel that we (the older generation) had to deal with so much stress when we were young that it was bred in us to have certain strengths to cope with the pressures of life today.

Here are a few facts that I don't often think about, we all attended the village school which caused great animosity with the village children. It came to a head when I was made head girl. The village children were up in arms, consequently on the way home one afternoon, I was waylaid and very severely beaten, then thrown into a very prickly ditch. I was in bed for a week, but after that incident there was no more trouble.

The other thing that stays in the back of my mind which makes me laugh, was that the second family we stayed with were vegetarians and being wartime only drank green water (the water that cabbage had been boiled in) we thought it was vile, consequently for a couple of years we drank only tap water.

We learnt a lot, mainly how to get on with unfamiliar people and surroundings and to accept another way of life.