Were you, or someone you know, living in London during WWII?

[lozengeoflove]

I’m really interested in what experiences women had of living in London during WWII. I’ve read so much about the male experience of fighting but I’d like to hear how women found the domestic life in London during this time.

Currently re-reading Sarah Waters ‘The Night Watch’ and would really love to hear about first hand experiences.

My gran used to tell me stories about the war quite often. She was a master at telling them. I often felt like I was there and experiencing it for myself.

I think the most terrifying thing she used to talk about was the sound of the air raid siren. Even at the age of 12 she would wet herself in fear every time she heard it. Hearing her talk about it made me feel so lucky to be living in the modern age.

There’s a little homemade memorial near to us at the edge of a field, where a WWII American bomber crashed with the loss of the whole crew. They were all just kids really - there’s a laminated copy of the report from the time on what happened. We’re out in rural Norfolk, and we feel a long way from anywhere these days, but there are so many old airfields all around, it must have touched everyone.

My nanny did, she would have been in her early twenties recently married to my grandad who was in the RAF.

I don’t have any stories but you’ve prompted me to ask my mum, nanny died years ago.

One of the secondary schools where I used to live is named after a US pilot, who was shot down but stayed in his plane and steered it away from the primary school that was there at the time, saved lots of lives but lost his own. Another school nearby has a very strangely shaped playground, I mentioned it to the children I was teaching cycling proficiency to at the time, they told me it was a remaining part of an airstrip used in WW2. The airbase is now a country park, and the airmens houses are still standing and lived in nearby.

On a lighter note I worked with a woman who was about 20/21 during WW11 and she once visited her boyfriend at his RAF barracks, or rather the nearby town. Anyway, she approached the gate guard and said “I’m looking for an airman” then thinking that sounded wrong she blurted out

But I know which one I want. 🤣🤣

Both my grandparents and great grandparents were in east London for WW2, all were bombed out, on more than one occasion and being Jewish it wasn't a particularly jolly time to say the least!

My nan came over from Europe with her mother and siblings, her dad and rest of the family stayed behind and were later killed. They lived with cousins just off Columbia Road. My great gran had worked as midwife and nurse, apparently being chased by wolves and bears going out to women in nearby forests in her home country! She restarted this work on arriving in London, helping women to give birth in various air raid shelters and her own kitchen at one point. She didn't allow her children to be evacuated, as didn't want to be separated and as jews who didn't speak english, she knew it wouldn't be a warm welcome.

My nan made a friend who she later saw being carried dead out of rubble after a bombing. One time she went on a date to the pictures, the air raid started and they came out to find the whole street on fire, went to nearest shelter and told no room so they ran home through the bombs and fire. One time there was gun fire and her brother pulled her to the floor with such force she cut her jaw and still has the scar. She did get to meet several American pilots though which made her very happy.

@Sagaris

One of the secondary schools where I used to live is named after a US pilot, who was shot down but stayed in his plane and steered it away from the primary school that was there at the time, saved lots of lives but lost his own. Another school nearby has a very strangely shaped playground, I mentioned it to the children I was teaching cycling proficiency to at the time, they told me it was a remaining part of an airstrip used in WW2. The airbase is now a country park, and the airmens houses are still standing and lived in nearby.

So now I want to know the location of this school with an interesting playground.

Fascinating thread!

My story is from a lady I made friends with when I was 19 to 21, she was 75 to 79 and she died then.

She had this white hair all piled up on her head in curls and had been a nurse in the war, in London, living in the east end. She described two things: one, a bomb falling into the garden of the house next door and the huge crater and two, the American GIs, and how she'd meet up with them under a bridge and let them feel her boobies. (Her exact words, as I've never forgotten.) And thanks for the book recommendations.

This arrived this evening. I can’t put it down!

My friends nan was evacuated to Scotland with twin babies. She hated it so much she came back to London & she said on the train other women told her it was sinful to bring babies back to the city.

My Mum was a child in the war. She remembered being evacuated and her sister being so distraught that they let her go back to her Mum in London.

I remember Mum telling me about the doodlebugs; that you could hear them and it was OK until they stopped making any sound and that's when you were frightened as they'd drop to the ground and explode once out of fuel.

My mother’s family were also Jewish from Eastern Europe, they arrived in the east end of London around 1880 and the time my GM was born that branch of the family were no longer Jewish.

My best friend’s grandma worked in a factory in the east end during the war - she’s a true east end girl and hard as nails even at 94, I love her - and she talks about skipping work on VE day and rushing to the gates of Buckingham palace with her friends to call for the king to come out and speak, and then staying out dancing in trafalgar square.

I found out a few weeks ago that my DF's cousin, who moved from rural Ireland, was killed by shrapnel when a bomb fell in Uxbridge in 1940. She was pushing her 4 month old baby in her pram; the baby died a few days later. Her husband was so traumatised he had a breakdown.

Seems unbelievable when I look at photos of her in the fields in the West of Ireland as a teenager.

That's terrible

My husband's great aunt died during a raid in Kennington. A bomb hit the tube station and she was killed as she walked nearby. Her sister, DH's Nanny, said goodbye to her husband (grandad) who went to war and her two eldest children who were evacuated to the country.

His other Grandmother was a Wren but we don't know too much about her work.

My Nan was born in 1925 & lived in Surrey Docks (if you watch the Blitz Spirit documentary you’ll see it being bombed) she married my grandad towards the end of the war when he was on 2 day leave.
My Great Grandad was an ostler (looked after horses) and a reserve fireman, towards the end of the war my Nan & great aunt worked in a munitions factory.
Life was hard, they lived in a rough & poor part of London.
Right up until she died my Nan would never throw anything away unless it was really on its last legs & no food waste ever!
My nan had a sister (Ester) who died a few years before my Nan.
At Ester’s funeral there was a man that didn’t seem to belong to anyone - my Nan told us it was Ester’s brother.
My mum & I were confused - how could it be Esters’s brother but not my Nan’s brother?
Turns out Ester’s dad had been killed while away fighting & her mum had also died.
Ester lived a couple of houses along from my Nan’s family & they just took her in. We never knew that she wasn’t my Nan’s real sister, they’d been sisters for over 50 years.

Fascinating thread - any more for any more?

My gran and her family lived in East London during WW2, she was born in 1930. She was evacuated four times and her evacuation stories were sad but very funny too. She said the villagers in the places she was evacuated to generally didn’t like the ‘outsider‘ children and were not that nice to them.

My gran’s mother was not a very nice person and eventually got my gran to come back and work in London when she was 14. She was working in a factory making clothes right at the end of the War when a V2 rocket hit the building opposite (where Danish airman were billeted). My gran said everything went black and when she came around a girl opposite looked at her and started screaming. It turned out that glass and other debris from the blast had injured her face and severed her optic nerve and my gran eventually had to have her eye removed. She was shoved in the back of a van containing dead Danish airman before being rushed to hospital. A few weeks later when everyone was out celebrating VE Day she was recuperating from the operation in hospital.

My gran recovered and despite her disrupted schooling she went on to get a first class history degree in her fifties, she was an amazing woman and very good looking, glass eye and all. She married twice and had a very happy second marriage, learnt to drive when women of her age rarely drove and was a genuine inspiration to me. She never quite forgave the Germans though despite being very liberal and non-xenophobic in general! She also never forgave the Americans for taking in many of the German scientists who helped produce the V2 rockets after the War when they were looking to get ahead in the nuclear arms race.

Members of the same family had very different experiences. One of my dad's sisters did some war work in London (moving from Scotland) where she met her husband who became a wing commander and they lived in a mews house in Mayfair quite safely. And after had a farm in a prosperous county. My dad was already in the RAF as a mechanic and was fortunate to be posted to the Middle East as ground crew for most of the war. I found his photographs of the pyramids, the deserts and Jerusalem fascinating. He also served in South Africa and Italy before coming back to the UK.

My mum's family should in theory have been safer at home in the north of England. My grandfather was a retired police sergeant but went back to serve as a volunteer policeman. He was killed cycling home in the blackout. Their younger daughter had an accident at home and went to hospital where she died of pneumonia. Their only son was in Bomber Command and was lost with all the crew somwhere over Germany. They were never found, he was 21.

My mum was in the WAAF as a cook which is how she met my dad when he was posted back to England. We used her ration cookery book until the 70s. So my grandmother started the war with a husband and 3 young adult children and ended with one daughter. I never met her. My parents had a big family but my mum died young also.

@Chisandbiscuits I can just picture the bombing scene. Your poor gran!

@nancy75 i think that yours is the story of true generosity. Not only did they take in Esther, but they raised her as their own.

My granny died last year. She was 96. She lived in Europe during WWII and was very much like other posters said frugal with certain foods and provisions. She had a large pantry and would store sugar, flour and other bits. As children we used to play shops in there it was that well stocked! She always used to say to us that we must be prepared in case something happens and we’re left short.
I guess that sense of being without never left her. My grandad was captured by Italians and then escaped the POV camp. He never talked about any of it.

My DGM was in her 40's during the war.

She hated Remembrance Day with a passion; why would anyone want to remember it when it was all unremittingly awful?

She took in evacuees, a brother and sister, from East London (they were in Surrey) and they stayed close all their lives. He died recently at the age of 86 and asked to be buried in the same cemetery as my grandparents, they'd made such an emotional impact on them.

My DGF was in the Heavy Rescue Service. He worked for the local council, being too old for active service.

www.bbc.co.uk/history/ww2peopleswar/stories/77/a3198477.shtml

My dgf never talked about the war either. I know he was in Europe after d-day and had a french girlfriend - I think her mum or gran always used to accompany them on their dates as a chaperone! But he never really said anything. Grandma used to remember being in the Anderson shelter - she is terrified of frogs and says there were always frogs in there as it was so damp. They lived in a little village but they’re east of Coventry so had to watch out as I believe bombers on their way back from raiding there would drop any bombs they had left on anything they could find.

DHs grandfather fought in Africa, the other one had a parachute accident when his parachute only partially opened. He broke his back, but amazingly recovered and was able to walk again.

MiLs family were from London and were relocated after the war to Haverhill - DH was born in Suffolk. We might never have met if that hadn’t happened.

Not in London but may help with the general feeling of the war.

My grandmother was the youngest of five girls but had married and moved out at the start of WWII.

They were in a northern mill town.

Evacuees arrived at the station and people went to 'pick' the ones they wanted (can you imagine that now?).

My great grandmother's next door neighbour came to see her, she'd gone to get some refugees but the problem was the boys she had room for had an older sister with them who'd been given 2 rules - you must all be together and you must go to an RC family.

So after some discussion the older sister took over my grandmother's bed but went next door to where her brothers were every day for meals, to get them to school etc etc.

My great aunt was still writing to her when they were both in their 60s.

I think education was disrupted for most people, where schools had refugees they often did half days, so the local kids had school in the morning and the refugee kids in the afternoon.

Directly after the war there was a shortage of teachers and ex-service men where recruited who may or may not have the skills to teach.

Oh and some anecdotes from some older deaf people who I've had the privilege to talk to.

One was walking home when he was grabbed and shouted at, he was unaware of the air raid siren and the fact there were bombs dropping.

Earlier he'd had call up papers and passed the medical until someone asked the Dr if he had checked his hearing.

Deaf people during air raids, as mentioned above, couldn't hear the sirens so air raid wardens often had keys to deaf people's houses and would let themselves in to wake up the occupants at night.

Other deaf people would tie a string to their bed (or occasionally a toe) and hang the rope outside for the warden to tug on.