How Britain Kept Calm and Carried On (24 page)

I was working in a newsagent’s during the war but have some notes of letters received at the Milk Office, asking for free milk.

‘Please send me a form for cheap milk, as I’m expecting mother.’

‘Please send me a form for cheap milk for having children at reduced prices.’

‘Please send me a form for free milk. I posted the form by mistake before my child was filled in properly.’

‘I have a baby 18 months old, thanking you for same.’

‘Please send me a form, I have a baby two months old and didn’t know anything about it until a friend told me.’

‘I have a baby fed entirely on cows and another four months old.’

‘I have been in bed two weeks with my baby and didn’t know it was running out until my milkman told me.’

Betty Quigley, Glasgow

My grandmother was quite a character. She was largely uneducated and caused uproar on many occasions. Her three sons were called up to fight and, because her husband was poorly,
she worried about how she would manage financially without her boys’ help. An official called at her house, to reassure Nanny that she would be granted an allotment. Apparently, this bothered
her all morning until the rest of the family arrived back shortly after midday. She wailed to them that an allotment would be no use to Granddad, since he had never done any digging in his
life!

Mrs B. M. Hipperson

My father, sisters and nephew lived in Hartshorne in Derbyshire. My sister and I took a bus to Burton upon Trent to buy my nephew a pair of new shoes. In one of the big shops,
we selected a pair and then enquired about the price. The assistant told us the cost, which ‘includes the tax’. I was astonished. ‘Do you mean that we have to nail them together
ourselves?’

My sister, crossing her legs tightly and stifling a snigger, had to explain to me that the assistant was talking about the purchase tax, which had recently been applied to many items. I felt,
and looked, such a fool.

Mrs Z. Price, Withington

Nanny had many upsets with shopping, although never with reckoning money. She would know exactly what was what in that department. But at the butcher’s shop, suet was in
short supply and allocated according to surname initials. Nanny was unaware of this and, on seeing suet, she asked for some, only to be told that she had her allowance ‘with the Ps’.
She came home totally bemused, complaining to the family that poor Mr Orford was obviously going mad because he didn’t even sell peas.

Mrs B. M. Hipperson

My aunt had two seven-year-old evacuees from London billeted on her just a few weeks after war broke out. Having arrived on the Saturday night, they all sat down to Sunday
dinner of roast beef, potatoes, carrots and kidney beans. One of the boys just sat and looked at his plate. My aunt asked him what was wrong and with that the boy scooped up the kidney beans and
threw them on the fire saying in his strong cockney accent: ‘I don’t eat bloody grass in London and I’m not eating it here!’

My aunt asked him what he usually had for dinner at home. He replied: ‘Brown beer and doughnuts!’

Mrs P. Pitman, Clevedon, Avon

Women might have been in the services but they were still encouraged to wear a bit of make-up. In fact, a pamphlet was issued. It pointed out that while long varnished
fingernails wasn’t conducive to service life, varnish bases would help us prevent cracked nails. I think the Wrens were actually issued with a red lipstick that, it was thought, would
complement their uniforms. And, of course, it was itself uniform.

I think that the best tip, though, was not to paint your eyelashes if you were likely to be putting on a service respirator. After you’d been wearing one of those for a few minutes, it had
a tendency to steam up with condensation from your breath, which, of course, would make cosmetics run into your eyes.

Beryl Hockey, London

Just as the war was coming to an end, I was scheduled to go to Leeds as a bus conductress with the long-distance buses. It was a bitter January day and it started to snow. To
get to Leeds we had to travel over some bleak moors. By the time we reached Leeds, the snow was falling thick and fast with flakes that seemed almost as big as the palm of my hand. I went to the
toilet and could hear a strange gurgling sound coming from the next cubicle. I thought someone was being taken ill so I called out to ask whether they were all right.

There was no answer, but the gurgling continued, so I went to the station inspector who used his master key to open the cubicle door. Inside stood a naked woman, washing her clothes in the
toilet bowl. She claimed that, despite it being the coldest day of the winter so far, she would put on her wet clothes and the warmth of her body would dry them.

Mrs Z. Price, Withington

One of the worst shortages – well, for a woman at least – was elastic. Particularly knicker elastic. Imagine that you were walking down the street and suddenly you
realized that your knickers were falling down! You had a couple of options: you could bend down and take them from around your ankles and put them in your handbag, which was humiliating; or you
could step out of them and walk on as though nothing had happened. But then you would lose a perfectly good pair of knickers. Actually, there was a third option – if you had enough warning.
When you felt them going, you might be able to grab them from outside your dress, and then do a funny walk until you found somewhere private where you could sort them out. That happened to me once
when a boy was taking me to the pictures. I managed to get into the ladies’ toilet, but I think he’d already spotted that something was wrong from the way I was walking, all
bandy-legged all of a sudden. Still, it was wartime. We had to carry on.

Edith Smith, London

The authorities came down very hard on petrol rationing. I remember that there was a court case where a man from Derby was fined for wasting petrol because he was caught driving
to watch Derby County. But another chap got round this by taking his mates to the football in a furniture van. They all crowded inside around a piano. His plan was that, if the police stopped him,
he would say that his journey was essential because he was delivering the piano to the NAAFI. He never was stopped and drove that piano back and forth, from his house to the football ground, for
about two years.

Bernard Buckler, Derby

It was a funny thing travelling in the war because you weren’t allowed petrol and couldn’t have coaches. We had a chap on the committee whose job involved moving
furniture about. He brought this wagon one day when we were playing at Chester. There were no seats or anything. We all got in with our bags and were dropped in an isolated part of Chester and then
walked in as though we’d come on the train.