WW2 MEMORIES OF MICHAEL FERGUSON Part 2 - Dealing in the Black Market

This story has been written onto the BBC People’s War site by CSV Storygatherer Lucy Thomas of Callington U3A on behalf of Michael Ferguson. They fully understand the terms and conditions of the site.

Part 2 - DEALING IN THE BLACK MARKET?
The only significant thing I remember about that time in Sussex was, as part of the war effort, the collection of swill for the pigs, and because we were near a farm (and in conjunction with the lad next door) we used to take the combined family swill up to the local farm, and the guy used to say “there you are, there she is, chuck it in” and we used to chuck the stuff over the wall and the pigs used to get stuck in. Then I remember hearing that the people I was living with at the time had a policeman come to the door one evening, and he said “We understand that you have been dealing in the Black Market” which was met by loud protestations. It turned out that because the gentleman I was living with was touring round farms he was given eggs, which he would bring home and preserve in “Isinglass”. I vaguely remember seeing a barrel in the kitchen or back garden with all these eggs bobbing about in this Isinglass stuff, so we never went short of eggs, but of course the ration in those days was one egg per adult per week, if you could get it, and there was me going up to the farm and chucking two or three eggshells in for the pigs to eat. It was actually down to the guy at the farm who had shopped us, if you could call it that — he probably thought he was doing his civic duty - so they didn’t get any more swill!

We moved from Uckfield to, I think, near Kingsbury in London, with these same people. Upon hearing a lot of noise one night — I turned over and went back to sleep! I was told the next morning that along the disused railway line, that ran across the front of the house about 200 yards away, there had been a big procession of tanks - which really peeved me off as I hadn’t seen it! I have vague memories of being taken to see aeroplanes at Hendon Airport.

Then I remember a period back home again, and my memories are of clambering about bombed out houses, as kids will, and getting into all sorts of mischief. Occasionally, I remember being sent down small holes to fish people’s belongings out of their kitchens, and bringing it up. Rescue workers, being big grown men, couldn’t get down there, but they weren’t averse to sending a nosy kid down. We treated it as great fun! Again, it was back to my local school. I can remember being able to read quite well when I first started school, so that carried me through because it wasn’t until much later in life that I got any sort of grip on things like maths. You just survived and if you kept your mouth shut at the back of the class you didn’t get hassled, but again it was because most of the school teaching staff both male and female, as I found out much later after the end of the war, were recruited into the services.

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