War Time Memories Part 2 of 3

I stayed with Aunt Millie and David, my cousin, in Pontycymmer for about 9 months. When Uncle Len joined the army Aunt Millie and David, 4 years old, left Coventry and returned to her home village. The upheaval of moving, the worry of a husband in the forces and then a bossy girl joining you must have been an ordeal for them, a very quiet family. David and I have remained good friends even though we quarrelled at that time. The lavatory was at the bottom of the garden. It had a long wooden seat and a flush system. The school I attended was Ysgol Babanod Y Ffaldau and was at the top of a steep hill. David started at the same school while I was there. I remember having difficulty getting up the slope from the main road when it was very slippery. I caught the dreaded nits and had to suffer the treatment of having them removed. I was moved to another place in the class. On St David’s Day Aunt Millie pinned a leek on me and I was very disappointed as I wanted a daffodil. I remember having a doll for Christmas. I went to the church not far from Aunt Millie’s house on Oxford Street. The hymns “When we walk with the Lord, In the light of his Word, What a glory he sheds on our way!” and “What a friend we have in Jesus, All our sins and griefs to bear!” remind me of being there. Sheep wandered about the village and I was in trouble for leaving the back gate open and in came the sheep. It was difficult to get them out. There was a place further along the road where animals were killed and much as I didn’t like it, I did go and look, with horror, sometimes. Mrs Griffiths, Aunt Millie’s mother, father and brother Emlyn lived further along Oxford Street. I loved to visit their home. Bread was often made and the smell was delicious. In the summer when there was not a coal fire, I helped carry the bread to the bakers to be cooked. The house had two floors to go up from pavement level and one downstairs. The downstairs area was where they mainly chose to live. There was a lovely grandfather clock in this room and it fascinated me. This was really the cellar as there was a grating where coal could be delivered. You could walk out from the back door into the sloping garden. The along the bottom mountain was the other side of the valley with the river Taff running.

Mother and Maureen stayed in Tonyrefail for a short time with Mrs Wilks, a family friend. Maureen had an infection at the time and the doctor asked where she had come from, as although Mother sounded very Welsh he knew there was not a problem in his area. In later years when we, as grown-ups, discussed memories, Maureen told us how she resented us returning home having had our parents to herself. I also didn’t like it when, having slept in Ray’s bedroom, Ray returned home and I had to share the bedroom with Marjorie and Maureen once more. The room contained a dressing table with a mirror and deep drawers, a wardrobe and double bed with matching headboard, a small single bed and a small chair. Not a lot of room for three growing girls. We had several pictures on the walls; the one I remember is ‘Ride a Cock horse to Banbury Cross’, a very pretty print.

By the time I returned home many changes had taken place. We had a lodger, which was compulsory if you had room, called Steve from Tredegar, South Wales. Steve was partly deaf so was not able to do military service. An electrician, he fixed our back door so that when the door was opened at night, the light went out. This saved turning off at the light switch. I remember going into a neighbour’s air raid shelter. The family at number 60, with other relations, joined their sections together and made a large shelter. For a time, we didn’t go to bed at home but went into this large shelter to sleep. Maureen was one night left, wrapped in a blanket, on the easy chair; she was not missed until we were in the shelter. We did eventually have a shelter of our own but it was always prone to flood with a certain amount of water and smelt foul; it had four bunks. For a time we also shared the shelter of our next door neighbour at number 70. I remember Dad getting us out of the shelter one night and standing us on the top, pointing out the red sky in the distance and saying, ‘That is Birmingham burning’. Our neighbours at number 66 moved away at the start of the war. My grandparents, who lived in Foleshill, came to live in their house for a time. Foleshill was heavily bombed. The book ‘Burnt Roof’ by Anthony A Upton gives details of the bombing of St Laurence’s Church, Foleshill, Coventry on the 29th October 1940. ‘The Roll of Honour’ lists 56 Parishioners killed during World War II and gives addresses where they were killed. The book details dates of the raids on Coventry during 1940. We sometimes played with the two girls from No 72 Nunts Park Avenue. Their father was killed in a practice manoeuvre accident in the early part of the war.

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