A Schoolgirl's War in Thonon, France, and Dunstable, England

For me, World War 2 started very suddenly. I was 15 and living in a quiet town on the border of France and Switzerland, called Thonon-les-Bains. The girls in the pension came from many different countries and there were tears and panic as we were all told to pack quickly and be ready to leave for home immediately.

My home was in England and my return entailed a 13-hour journey in a rough French train crowded with adults, children, dogs, pigs and hens. I had been given a basic pack of food — brown bread, dark chocolate and an apple — which I ate straight away, not realising that it would have to last. A kindly man gave me a lump of bread and garlic sausage. My stomach leapfrogged, and to this day I still can’t eat garlic.

In Paris a courier came up to me and said he had to put me on the train to Dieppe. I was completely alone and had no idea by what miracle he had found me, but I remember feeling tired, dirty and very sick, so I just went where I was pushed. We spent a noisy night in Paris, staying in the Rou de Vaugiraud and at dawn the concierge hammered on my door and shouted that it was time to leave for Dieppe.

It was a nasty journey. The memory of seeing the lines of people making their way though the French countryside from the comparative safety of the train stays with me to this day. Dieppe was a mass of jostling people — some kneeling on the quayside, begging to be allowed to board the rusty, creaking ship that was to take us across the channel to Newhaven. Horses and cows were crowded on deck and I found a wet, smelly corner to sit down in for the journey.

I arrived in the small market town of Dunstable to be reunited with my mother and sister, who had gone there to escape the anticipated bombing of London. My father still lived and worked in London and I used to worry myself to death about him. I was given a ration book and a gas mask in a very smart black leather bag (which was against regulations!), and I had every hope that I could soon go back to the life I had known just a short while before. I remember being always hungry. My sister and I used to fight over the scrapings from the rice-pudding bowl. My mother had even less to eat because she tried to make sure we girls had enough.

One day I went to London to visit the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art (RADA) where, prior to the outbreak of war, I had gained a scholarship. I had intended to start at RADA after finishing school in Thonon. The Academy said that I could start attending straight away, but my mother would not let me as there were more important things to do.

My sister joined the Womens Auxiliary Air Force and I went to work in the offices of a big firm, which made parts for fighter aircraft. I was in charge of quality control for cruciform rubber pads, whatever they were! One day, the air-raid siren sounded so we all had to make a dash across a field to the factory’s shelter. As we ran, a group of German fighters came down out of the sky and started shooting at us. One man was shot (but not killed) and the rest of us got to the shelter, frightened but safe.

One weekend I went to London to visit my father, who had rooms in a nice house which had a big park just across the road. In this park, during the night, I counted 17 incendiary bombs exploding. In the morning the park was gone — trees, grass, everything - but all the houses around it were untouched. The day after that I returned to Dunstable and as I travelled on the Piccadilly underground line from Hyde Park Corner to Kings Cross I remember seeing hundreds of people sleeping in relative safety on the platforms.

My sister came home on leave with exciting stories about life in the Forces and it made my own life seem very dull.

The thought of German troops invading England used to frighten me very much. My mother kept a pitchfork next to her bed! I used to think that being hungry was nothing compared with the prospect of invasion. However, this was not to happen and one wonderful day in May 1945 we learned that England was finally at peace once more.

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