A Post-Lady in Dunstable

This story was submitted to the People's War site by the Dunstable At War Team on behalf of the author and has been added to the site with her permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

I was working at the labour exchange, I wasn’t quite 16 and had to go and help out with the war effort. I went to the Ministry of Transport but I didn’t like that job much. Afterwards I worked as a Land Girl reserve just outside Bedford; I got a small wage plus board under tents.

At the end of the year I came back to Dunstable and started work as a post lady. I started at 6 am and had a large bag of mail to carry round. There were no circulars as there was no paper, I walked all around the High Street, Periwinkle Lane, Garden Road, Great Northern Road then back to the post office to sort out the next lot; I did this 6 days a week.

There were lots of service people, rationing, I saw big long queues in the sweet shops; I didn’t get anything myself, I was only there to deliver the post. I was post lady for 3 years and didn’t even get a Jelly baby! I loved the job though, when it rained we had a big rubber sheet with a hole in the middle to go over your head and cover the postbag; we got really wet but the post was dry!

At weekends I would go up to London to spend the weekend with a friend. We stayed in Hammersmith and went to Regent Street and saw a lot of awful things; it didn’t stop us going up there though. We travelled by train, which took about two hours. We went to Lions Corner house, to a large market and bought material from one of the cheap shops, even though we had no dockets. It wasn’t too bad at all, I even visited Kew Gardens, we had no money for the shows but it was a lovely place to visit.

There were dances held in Dunstable; I rarely went out although occasionally we went to the town hall for concerts. The Methodist church had canteens where we could get chips, Spam, dried egg, slice of bread and a cup of tea, that was one and sixpence. This was the height of living, my mother, aunties and friends used to go.

Whilst staying over night with my future in laws in Lewsey Road, we heard a sound like the world had exploded; all of a sudden we were thrown over where the room had collapsed.

Apparently it was a feature rocket; you just didn’t hear them that often, it had landed on Coma Cars and on the new canteen just down the road. Luckily the house wasn’t completely demolished, I don’t know how, but it wasn’t. There were three walls standing, the roof was still on but the internal damage was worst.

It wasn’t long before help had arrived. My mother and father-in-law got tossed about but landed all right. We sat for a while and saw lorries of people going past covered in bandages, etc.

When I got home, I had tears streaming down my face from one of my eyes. I couldn’t get any help that night but the next day I went to the eye man in Dunstable Road, Luton. I was then sent to Welwyn Garden City to see one of the specialists. I got a lift from a friend; they had a look and told me that my eye was badly damaged; it had exploded rather like a marble, which was caused by the blast.

I didn't think anything had hit my eye but I wasn’t sure. I was sent to Watford hospital for 10 weeks, they couldn’t operate and during my stay they kept prodding and poking, testing my arms and legs just in case any other injuries showed up, my other eye wasn’t broken but it was blurred.

I had to stop work and was totally incapacitated for the rest of my life. After the accident I went back to stay with my parents, I helped out in the canteen, I could dish up but not cook. I’ve never been able to see properly but the camaraderie during the war was so great. Jim came home and he couldn’t believe it, he had been all over the place and never got injured and there I was with this.

When Jim came home and asked me if I was going back with him I said no, not like this, as I was still having treatment, etc. Anyway I was just going to bed one Saturday night when my mother said “Jim’s coming down the passage”, I said don’t be silly, and she said “yes he is, he is just parking his bike”. Well mention the word bike and I knew it was him, he lived for his bike. That was on the Saturday night and on the following Thursday we got married at the Methodist Church, just down the road and invited 50 guests.

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