09/05/2024
A big sunny hello from Shottendane - at last the sun is out and we can enjoy the spring. We have had a very busy week. Residents have been enjoying the garden and planting sunflower seeds in pots ready for the summer. They have also enjoyed arts and crafts, and music club as usual. On Wednesday 8th May the home celebrated VE Day with a VE Day themed concert given to us by Marie Kelly who sang a medley of songs for residents and also brought some uniform along to show them.
We asked residents what they remembered about the War and VE Day and this is what one of our lovely residents wrote for us:
WARTIME MEMORIES
I was 7 years old when “war broke out” living in Southall, Middlesex, with my Dad, Mum and 9-year-old brother. Soon after the declaration we were all issued with gas masks. We had to always have them with us. We had an Anderson Air Raid Shelter. The neighbours all helped each other to bury them in the garden. (Dad wouldn’t dig up the back garden for Adolf Hi**er so ours was in the front garden!) Dad found us a box with a shoulder strap for them. In school we practised putting them on – being children we found if you blew hard when wearing them you make a raspberry sound which the teachers told us not to – but we managed to when she turned her back.
Dad dug a deep hole just outside it called the “the sump” which filled with water over night. Peter and I took turns emptying it every day. We slept in it every night. As soon as the air raid siren wen we left the house each carrying something. I carried the chamber pot (and was always the first) Peter, the playing cards plus a bag of buttons to gamble with, mum the first aid and Dad with legal documents. First of all, we all slept on the same pierce of plywood Dad outside, Peter next to hm, me then Mum on the other side. You could hear the bons whistling down. Then they sounded loud, Dad put his arm over all our heads saying, “Hold Tight”. I always felt safe then. Eventually we had four bunks to sleep in. To this day I still say GNGBYSYITMAAAK which stands for “Goodnight, God Bless You, See You In The Morning, All Alive and Kicking”.
We had two close calls. One incendiary bomb fell in the garden of the neighbours next door but one. Dad said, “You two stay here, Mum and I are gong to put the bomb out.” Dad found something (which turned out to be the flight of the bomb) and was using it to shovel up soils to put on it. Meanwhile Mum found a sandbag and dropped it whole onto the fire. Dad, bending over the fire was caught with the flames coming out and his hair and eyelashes were singed. The Air Raid Warden led a dazed Dad back to the shelter. The Warden said, “I will go and make you some tea.” Dad tasted it and said, “What’s in it?” the Warden replied, “A drop of whiskey.” Dad said, “Bring the bottle!”
The other near miss was much worse, silently, on a parachute, a mine fell in the road behind us. It blew all the windows in , and all the roof slates down and the back doors ended up behind the front door. That night dad was sleeping indoors so as not to wake us all up. He needed to get to work early. Mum wanted to get to him, but he kept shouting “Don’t come in!” Mum being so worried kept walking towards the door, her feet now walking on the roof slates now underfoot. Dad could hear that and again shouted, “Don’t come in!” Mum shouted back “Why can’t I come in Charley – are you hurt?” “No”, he said “But I can’t find my bloody trousers!”
The devastation of some houses in the next road were complete. The worst one was brick and mortar on the ground. All that was left was half the staircase going up to nowhere. That showed evidence of what we were told, that if you couldn’t get to the shelter get under the stairs, was good advice. Fortunately, only one poor man was killed. He had left his shelter to make tea.
The next couple of years us children used to got to play in the ruins. We could also enter the abandoned houses and did. Someone found part of a parachute. Every morning us kids would go out early searching for shrapnel and sometime swapping with each other different pieces. I finished up with quite a collection.
VE Day was wonderful. Living in a Cul-de-Sac, we were able to bring out our neighbour’s piano for a party that night. A big fire was put onto the road at the end and lit when it got dark. We danced and sang well into the night.
Another person wrote for us:
I remember Victory Europe day very well.
For months my brother and I had been moving arrows on a map pinned to our bedroom wall, which showed the advance of allied troops until Berlin was surrounded.
Mum’s and Dad’s in our street had been planning a street party for months, and saving up their food coupons to buy Sugar, Fat, Flour, Chocolate etc to make the luxuries, the like of which I have never seen before.
Tables and chairs were assembled down the centre of our street. Tablecloths appeared (we had newspapers until then). Music was provided by wound up gramophone and needle.
All the ladies were dressed in their best frocks, and for the first time I think, I saw a bit rouge on the cheeks, hair nicely styled with wave set, and perfume, I think it was eau de cologne. (Come on, I was only 10!). What impressed me even more was the jellies, blancmanges, trifles, cakes with icing on top. It was all memorable, and there was wonderful camaraderie between the whole community, besides the few men left having a few sherbets (beers) themselves.
As if that wasn’t enough, after lights out of course a bonfire. This was all set up on a bombed-out site opposite where I lived. The size seemed to tower above me, and the flames were not of destruction and death, but for pure pleasure.
What stands out in my memory after all these years, everyone was happy, and shared that feeling of the very special day.
Thank you to those people for their wonderful memories.
The home would like to also thank Marie for her wonderful singing, Julie for arranging it all, our brilliant kitchen Manager for the 1940's food, and all the staff for their help.
Lets us all hope the sun is here to stay for a while.
