My Life During the War

When the war broke out, I was living in a Welsh village in the Rhondda Valley called Treorchy, together with my parents, Jeannie and Arthur Gray and my little three and a half year old brother, David. I was seven at the time.

The news was broadcast to the country on the 3rd September l939 by the Prime Minister, Neville Chamberlain. All the grown-ups, I remember, were very worried and sad and wondered just what was going to happen.

The Rhondda Valley was a mining area and most of the men worked underground in the coal mines, but although lots of them had to go and fight for our country, many remained behind to continue producing the coal, which was essential to heat most of the homes in Great Britain and many other buildings besides. It was essential to fuel the boiler in the factories where war machinery was being made, such as tanks and guns. For four more months we lived in Treorchy and I attended a
little primary school at the end of the street where we lived.

My parents were Salvation Army officers and were busy in the community as church leaders and spent much time helping all those in the area who were in need, such as visiting the sick people, conducting wedding and funerals. Because my Dad was a minister of religion he was exempt from call-up into the Forces. Of course, because he was my Dad I was very glad that he didn't have to go away. I couldn't imagine living without him there, although many of my friends were parted from their dads for a long time. So it was that at the beginning of the War, because I was only seven and didn't fully understand the implications of war, I continued to play with my friends in the street, in the playground, on the mountainside behind our house and regularly attended the religious services on a Sunday. Many more people went to church then because they felt they needed to ask God to help them.

Just before Christmas l939, my parents were told we had to move to the city of Cardiff and so at the beginning of January l940 we moved into 92 Penarth Road, Cardiff. I remember it was bitterly cold and we had very little coal for awhile to keep us warm.

Cardiff is a major port in Wales and most of the essential goods, like food and machinery came to us from abroad by sea. So it wasn't surprising that Hitler and the Germany Air Force were determined to bomb the docks and buildings around the port.

And so life became quite difficult for grown-ups, but we children didn't realise how bad it was. We had our food rationed, and when Mum went to the shop to buy some butter, meat, or sugar, for example, she had to produce our Ration Books. Otherwise the grocer wouldn't be allowed to sell her any food. Sweets were rationed, too; we could only buy four ounces of sweets or chocolate a week.

I had quite a long walk to school everyday, and on the way, following a night air raid by the German planes, my friends and I would collect pieces of shrapnel (that is pieces of the bombs) and see who could find the biggest piece. It was quite a dangerous thing to do because we were told there were chemicals on the metal which could have made us ill.

My School was in a very well-known road called Ninian Park Road. It was opposite the Cardiff Football Ground. By now we were issued with gas masks in case a poison gas attack occurred. We had our lessons interrupted frequently to practice wearing them and sometimes wore them for part of the lesson. We also carried a little food in the gas mask case so that we would have something to eat if there was a raid and we couldn't go home for dinner. The big disruption was when the Air Raid Siren sounded over the city. Everyone had to take shelter immediately, and in our playground had been installed special reinforced concrete shelters. We would leave our classrooms in an orderly manner and make our way across to these shelters. They were dark, long and narrow with benches each side. There we waited with our gas masks until the All Clear Siren sounded and we could come out.

There were two compensations - we got out of lessons for a while and secondly a big tin of boiled sweets was passed around to calm our nerves! The School managed to obtain these sweets in spite of the rationing.

Most people had an Anderson air raid shelter built in their gardens. A big hole was dug out and a curved metal sheet was placed over it. Then the earth which had been removed was packed over the top of it. Therefore when you went into it you were really underground. This is where we went when we were at home as soon as the Siren sounded, and we stayed there until the All Clear.

There were bunk beds in it and at night my mother, David and I used to go there armed with a lot of blankets. I could never sleep, though, because my Dad was out helping people who were bombed out of their homes and I worried about his safety. Some people who had no garden had a Morrison shelter in their living room. This was like a big table of very heavy metal under which they could shelter.

The worst thing that happened to our family was when Dad was injured by a bomb. It blew up behind him one night. He was lifted into the air by the blast and as a result the position of his stomach dropped. He was often ill after that and I would sit with him and pray that he would get better; gradually he did.

We often spent time in our school holidays in the country with my Grandma and Grandad Gray in another part of South Wales. They lived in a small terraced house in Pontywain around twenty miles from, Cardiff.

We loved going there and had a great time with them,climbing the mountains all around, away from the main bombing raids. We used to play outside their house and watch the trains passing by on their way from the coal mines to the main line.

Cardiff continued to be devastated by the bombing day after day. More and more buildings were ruined and it was not unusual to see furniture and people's belongings hanging out of the remains of bombed houses. Many people were killed and injured.

Towards the end of the War which came in l945, our family moved to Hinckley in the Midlands. It was good to be away from the bombing and it was specially good to celebrate the end of the War. We had parties in the streets; flags were waving everywhere. People were very happy, except of course those who had lost loved ones. Gradually we began to get more food and for the first time since the War began we could buy bananas and other things which could not be imported during the fighting. I do hope we never have a war like that again.

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