MY STORY 2ND WORLD WAR (1939-45)

BORN AT HOUSE NO 99, BREDBURY
(hence ‘99’ written throughout as my homestead)

It was 3rd September 1939, when I was 12 years of age, the war started, I remember the day so well, as though it was only yesterday. I was out playing with friends on some spare ground opposite to ‘99’, when the mother of one came to tell us that it had just been announced on the ‘wireless’ that war had been declared. My immediate reaction was to dash home for my gas-mask, which every member of the public had been issued with previously. Gas warfare never materialised but we were prepared! Nevertheless, from this day onwards, the public carried their gas masks in its small box attached to a cord, slung over ones shoulder, wherever they went. Babies gas protection was quite a big cumbersome affair which enclosed the whole baby. The front headpiece was made of perspex for the babies’ vision, with an air pump for oxygen.

Steps to protect the population from air attacks had been taken before war was proclaimed. One of these was a special Government scheme whereby Local Authorities received grants to be spent on reinforcing the cellars of older properties, “99” qualifying for this, Apart from the distressing eminent war factor, my father felt most grateful for this proposal, as it would strengthen the ground floor of the house. Work was carried out and the ceiling of the cellar was reinforced with steel sheets held up by metal pillars anchored to the flagged floor of the cellar.

Being an old house the cellar was spacious and quite high . In one corner there was an old-fashioned boiler, once used for the household washing . It was brick-built with a round copper boiler inside. Underneath the boiler was a coal fireplace for the purpose of heating the water. Near to this, on the side wall, was a hearth with a coal fire-place. I suppose this would have been used for drying the washing on damp or wet days in olden days, but what a blessing this proved to be once the war was underway. The walls were whitewashed and there was some form of electric lighting,

The worst of the Manchester blitz took place roughly between December 1940 and May 1941, after which the enemy turned their attention on Russia. Loud sirens were sounded to warn the inhabitants that a raid was about to take place. A different “all clear” siren sounded when it was safe to come out of the shelters. A friend of mine, Mary, worked at a Bank in Portland Street, Manchester. She finished her usual days work on the 22nd December - all was well, the grandeur of every building familiarly standing in place. A very different kettle of fish as she arrived by train the following morning though. As she walked her usual route to work, struggling and stepping precariously over piles of rubble, the streets were in a state of devastation.

Manchester was prepared for such attacks; it was surrounded by barrage balloons, used to make sure that the enemy aircraft didn’t fly too low. Some of these balloons could be seen from ‘99’. Also, guns, known as AK AK guns, were strategically placed to fire at enemy aircraft. Most raids were at night but some were in the day.

To our horror after this first raid over Manchester and subsequent ones, when we all swarmed out of the cellar after the ‘all clear’ siren, as we stood on the pavement looking towards Manchester, roughly twelve miles away, the sky was ablaze, even shedding light over Bredbury. One wondered if there would be a building left in the city centre but many are still standing to this day. Most likely the bombers were seeking important factories, or maybe the oil refinery and docks on the Manchester Ship Canal. The north-west took quite a hammering, as did Liverpool for instance, where the main dock-yards were targeted and where merchant ships brought food etc., over from America. As a country we were not self-sufficient. We had food rationing and each family was issued with ration books with which to purchase food. Nevertheless, we ate a healthy diet. Clothes were rationed for which coupons were issued periodically, also coupons were issued for sweet rationing. Certain fruits, such as bananas, were unobtainable.

To return to the cellar at 99: apart from the structural reinforcement, bench-type seats were also provided. This shelter was not only for our household, it was for other local residents and at the height of the bombing it was packed. One mother, who lived in nearby Lyndhurst Avenue, sometimes arrived early evening, before the sirens were sounded with all her nine children and bedded them down, almost fully clothed I should think, on some type of bedding she had previously brought in. Her husband worked shifts at the steelworks, therefore not always there with the family when he was on nights. My father lit a fire on some cold evenings, so all in all, under the conditions, things were comfortable with a friendly, if not anxious, community atmosphere. I had a chair and small table down there to do my school homework, in the midst of the droning noise of the enemy bomber aircraft.

On one raid 67 small incendiary bombs fell on Bredbury alone. About five of them ignited in our back garden on the out-houses. Without hesitation, Harry, a tall well-built, red-headed, young fellow who lived in Lyndhurst Avenue, leaped over the garden wall holding a metal dust-bin lid with which he stamped out the fires. The aim of dropping incendiaries was to ignite buildings, undergrowth or whatever, to identify large important buildings. In this instance, the steelworks which backed onto our back garden.

Some households were equipped with Anderson Shelters (named after the man who designed them) in their back-gardens. They were oblong, had brick sides, with a curved corrugated iron roof. Inside were bench seats along the sides. They saved many lives, especially in the towns. Most local inhabitants had them, sometimes they had to share with neighbours. I remember my Auntie Phyllis, an old lady who lived with her son and family in Romiley, always changed into clean knickers before she went into the shelter, as she said “in case they were bombed and she had to be taken to hospital!”

The Government requisitioned the iron gates and railings of all households, with few exceptions, to provide extra scrap iron for industry because iron ore had to come from abroad. ‘99’ had to sacrifice its ornate iron railings at the front of the house. These railings were fashionable at that time and often marked the land boundary. In our case they were replaced by a privet hedge.

I believe the steelworks was the largest producer of bright steel in Europe during the war. They employed around 3,000 local workforce, including many women; some of whom operated overhead cranes, churning out steel for ammunitions and the like. The workers either walked, cycled, arrived by tramcar, to their work. Barely any cars in those days. Maybe only top management owned and used a car. Campaigning to raise money to finance the war went on. I remember posters stuck to property and walls around the steelworks with such slogans as “One Spitfire Costs £5,000” “Wings for Britain” “War Weapons Week” “Dig for Victory”.

There was a lot of old brick-built dwelling property surrounding the steel works and other parts of Bredbury and Woodley. One of the steelworkers whom I know recalls the time when a small raid took place over the Bredbury, Woodley and Romiley area, when an enemy aircraft was shot down around 10pm one evening. The young men working at the steelworks dashed out to see this plane, a ball of fire, falling from the sky. As this happened, an old woman who lived opposite in a row of old brick-built terraced houses, opened her sashed bedroom window and yelled out to the young fellows “what’s happening?” They replied “they’ve shot one down” and the old woman called back “about bloody time too”, shut her window and went back to bed! This stray aircraft came down over Stockport Golf Course, about six miles away. The crew had bailed out, were captured and made prisoners. One of the crew members, only a lad of around 19, was arrested by an air-raid warden, who wore a top hat stuffed with newspaper - said he felt safer wearing this than an ARP helmet! An eccentric chap to say the least.

The then steelworks closed in 1983 and was demolished. This was due to lack of orders. The third-world took over most of this industry about this time.

There were several ARP (Air Raid Precaution) Stations dotted around the district, usually a room in someone’s house, rear of a shop or the like. The younger members were assigned to carry messages to another station or wherever, should the telephone communications be rendered useless due to the bombing. It was the duty of the older ARP Officers to walk or cycle around the district to make sure not a flicker of light was showing through curtains. Black material had to cover all windows. At night there was a complete blackout throughout the whole country throughout the war. Despite the blackout one felt safe to walk the streets at night. People more or less carried on as normal with their lives, like attending Church, dances, sport, holidays. People made good use of the libraries. They took up hobbies. Most women could knit and sew, instigated by the motto “Make do and Mend”.

There was only one fatality in the district caused by a bomb which dropped in High Lane, Woodley. A man named Mr Woods was standing on his doorstep watching events, when a small bomb landed opposite and he was killed by the blast.

Had the war continued, when I was at the age to be called up to serve my country, without a doubt I would have joined the nursing corps.

Hundreds of books have been written about the war and there is for instance an excellent museum near Malton, East Yorkshire, called Eden Camp, which gives a good insight into living conditions and experiences during those dark days, much better than I could ever explain in this “my story”.

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