Evocative Smells
Hello Folks, as a new member, I have enjoyed reading your stories for the last few weeks and decided that it was probably about time I made a contribution.
Gerry raised the interesting subject of smells that bring back strong memories. For me one of the most evocative smells of the World War II is that of burning painted wood. As an eight year old in London in 1943 I played on bomb sites which often were still had smoldering fires. On occasion, the clean up crews would collect all the combustibles at the site and have one great bonfire, which, of course, we kids thought was great.
It was not until much later that I realized that the very pungent and distinctive smell was due to the fact that painted wood was being burned. There have only been two or three occasions since the war that I have come across that distinctive smell, but it always brings back memories of the bomb sites in South London. Since open burning has been banned in the States for at least the last twenty years, it is unlikely that I will come across that smell again unless, of course, I start my own illegal bonfire!
One smell we definitely will not come across again is that of the London pea soup fog. Does anyone remember the great fog of 1947(?) that killed five thousand people and was instrumental in bringing about the banning of coal fires in London? As I recall, it lasted at least three or four days, was green in colour, and had an absolutely awful smell.
Well, cheerio for now
Brian Kiernan
Hi Gang Your story of painted wood burning Brian got my 'old' memory triggered.
I was only 4 years old when on 24th August, 1940 my families terraced house in Portsmouth was totally demolished. A 'present' sent airmail, almost 1 year into the war, had made a direct hit. This is my first memory of this smell. Even now as I talk about it, I can smell it, 59 years later. A common enough smell in the next year or so, whenever passing a bomb site not long after another 'delivery'.
Was informed later, it was the combined smell of brick rubble, smouldering wood and explosives from the bomb.
Another smell lingering in my memory is of stagnant water when passing one of those big water tanks (rather like a crude version of the above ground swimming pools of today). These water tanks were found dotted around cities, on waste ground, the water to be used for putting out fires after an air raid. Remember stirrup pumps?
I guess we all remember that rubber smell too, when being taught as a young child on the correct way to put on your gas mask! The worst reaction I have to a wartime memory trigger is not a smell but a sound!
My family left the bombing target area of the Royal Naval Dockyard city of Portsmouth in Hampshire for the considerably more quiet country area of Thatcham in Berkshire in 1941, when I was only 5. But up until then, the day and night was frequently disrupted by the wailing of the Air Raid Warning Siren! All these years later, on hearing this sound in an old movie or similar, the hair on the back of my neck stands to attention and I shiver. I have tried not to let it happen but failed miserably.
Just a little bit of trivia on the subject of living in other countries that may amuse some. Brian signed off his email with a 'Cheerio for now'! OK being Brits we know that is 'Bye see you later'! Not here in Australia, they call a greeting a 'Cheerio'! They also send 'Cheerios' to people (messages). Maybe something to do with being upside down do you think!! lol ;O]
Bye for now, Margaret - Perth Western Australia.
Have been enjoying the "smells" letters. Margaret's mention of those ghastly air raid masks we had to carry around with us -- almost makes you shudder to think about it, let alone smell a similar rubber smell.
What a claustrophobic experience it was to be on the inside looking out through the built-in goggles! But there's a good side to everything, and we soon discovered that if you blew hard, the tight-fitting rubber vibrated against your cheeks, creating a wonderfully rude raspberry sound, to our amusement and our teachers' consternation. All it took was one brave soul to start blowing, and the rest would immediately join the chorus -- a glorious cacophony of rude rubbery raspberries! Our teachers, the Misses Hepworth and Collis, soon brought us under control, but we had livened things up for a few minutes, and Heaven knew we needed the diversion. So did the teachers, I'm sure.
Frances
"Copyright Frances R. Pullen"Your message was interesting, Margaret. Thanks. Oddly enough, I don't recall the smell of burning wood and explosives, even though my neighborhood was hit by quite a number of bombs, killing people I knew and severely blitzing our house. Even the smell of the end of a high explosive burning into the linoleum on the floor didn't register with me. I don't know why those smells haven't stayed with me. And those water tanks you remember -- a friend, who lived two streets away, who was exactly my age at that time (still is, actually), insists that a water tank was built on the empty bomb site at the end of the road next to ours, yet I have absolutely no memory of that. But those air raid warning sirens you mention -- those were another thing indeed! So is the sound of bombs falling to earth and exploding. Not long ago, when I saw a news clip of that time, and heard those sounds, I found myself feeling like a little child again. I found tears running out of my eyes, though I wasn't actually crying. Interesting, the things we remember and the things we don't. Frances
"Copyright Frances R. Pullen"