Declaration & Conscription

I didn’t fully understand what was going on, but nevertheless felt the anxiety of my parents and other relatives following the announcement by Neville Chamberlain from Downing Street - we were at war with Germany and Adolf Hitler was the man who caused it all.   Soon we had models of aeroplanes, tanks and ships, and drew exploding pictures of Junkers being shot down by the RAF, we were issued with gas masks and learned what we must do in event of the siren or the 'rackety'.  At school (unknown to my mother, I hasten to say) I learned to sing  that rude song about the Nazi leaders, Hitler, Goering, Himmler and especially "poor old Goebbels" - although I didn't really understand its meaning!

The war started slowly for us at first, my father not being called up immediately because of his age (he was 35 at the commencement of the war) but was subsequently conscripted and joined the R.A.S.C. (Royal Army Service Corps) seeing service in North Africa and Italy in the 8th Army.  I can vividly remember his initial departure walking up Boyd Street carrying a brown case.  We saw him again when he returned home on embarkation leave, in uniform with his rifle, which seemed very exciting to my sister and me, but no doubt was not quite so exciting to my mother.  We had a bit of a family gathering just before he left and we did not see him again for five years.  His war medals are seen above.

Other Family Members

My my uncle Jimmy Birrell was also called up and served as a sergeant in Iraq although I do not know which regiment.  My uncle David Aitken served in the RAF in the Signals Branch and saw service overseas.  My uncle James Simpson served as a rear gunner in the RAF but following an injury was transferred to the Army and was subsequently discharged on medical grounds.  My uncle Jack served in the Fire Service during the war.  In the goodness of God all my uncles survived the war.  Some pictures are shown below and include a picture of my aunt Mabel (Aitken) in nurses uniform who always seemed to me to be very glamorous!  She qualified as a midwife and spent some time at Stobhill Hospital, Glasgow.

  

Rationing

Like every other family we had to “make do and mend” (one of the wartime slogans), get on with things, “keep the home fires burning”, and put up with the shortages and constant queues for everything.  Rationing was the order of the day, and soon the shops were devoid of all the luxury goods, and many branded products disappeared for the duration of the war, though some companies kept the image of their brand alive by advertising even although they were not available (Stork Margarine and Kellogg’s Rice Crispies were examples) and we longed for the day when these would be available again.  In the meantime we had to make do with the non-branded ‘Special Margarine’ and other similar products.  For the duration breakfast was either porrage, saps (bread with hot milk and sugar) or wheat flakes of unknown origin.

All schoolchildren had to have a weekly dose of Virol, a sweet and sticky extract of malt, in order to make sure we got our proper ration of vitamins.  I must say I enjoyed Virol which could also be spread on a piece of bread or scone and I think we had it more often than once a week.

Naturally there was a bit of black market going on, and I have to say we enjoyed a little bit of ‘under the counter’ supplies through a man called Mr Mackie who rented our garage for his new Morris 8 car.   A web photo of a Morris 8 can be seen by clicking the name (left).  Although my father had a car, a Riley I think, he did not drive himself the car being driven on odd occasions by my cousin (of a similar age to my father and who also was in the army), so our car was put on the drive under a tarpaulin.  It deteriorated through time, and eventually my mother sold it.  Mr Mackie worked for the grocery store Massey's, and quite frequently certain items such as large tins of peaches, Spam, or ham became available and we enjoyed these extra supplies to supplement our rations – real treats indeed.

                    Things like bananas and oranges that we take so much for granted today were just not

                    available and if we got one banana a year that was about it.    Eggs likewise were in very

                    short supply and we had to make do with dried eggs, which were not everyone’s

                    favourite, but I rather liked them.  The bread itself was a grey colour compared to the

                    former white, and we longed for the day when white bread would return.  We were

encouraged to “Dig for Victory” and so my mother planted seeds to grow extra vegetables to supplement our diet.  Click on the link to see a full picture.

Absolutely nothing was wasted, and any left over food that could not be put into the soup pot found its way to the ‘pig bin’ that stood at every other lamp post; this pig swill being collected regularly to feed the pigs.  You will find details of the wartime rationing at this website: www.timewitnesses.org/english/food/Rations.html

My mother was a remarkable cook (I had almost said ‘brilliant’) as well as a great seamstress and knitter, and one of my many recollections was of her ability to seemingly conjure a meal out of nothing, of her ability to re-do clothes that would normally have been thrown out, and ripping out old knitwear to have them refashioned for further use.  Her treadle Singer Sewing Maching was constantly in useI remember on one occasion my sister entered a fancy dress competition (at the Guides, I think) and with the help of my mother she went

                                 as “Miss Make do and Mend” (for which she won 1st Prize I believe) in a costume

                                 that depicted among other things the utility mark as shown on the left, the CC41

                                 meaning civilian clothing 1941.

The clocks changed to double summer time in the spring of 1941 and for us in Glasgow where it remains light much later than that of London and the South – we went to bed when it was light, we got up when it was light, and it seemed to us that it was daylight forever!

Not far away over Holyrood School playing fields and beyond Prospect Hill Road stood Cathkin Park, the home of 3rd Lanark Football Club.  There was a large cinder area in front of the stand and on here during summer months there were ‘shows’ as we called them in Scotland – a funfair with helter-skelter, dodgem cars, and all the rest.   I remember one summer evening, probably in 1940, lying awake and listening to the general hubbub from the shows and the repeated playing of “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine” which had only recently been written.

The Wireless

                        We were the proud possessors of a Marconi Radiogram that had an automatic record

                        changer for up to 8 records, could take 10in and 12in records, Medium Wave (for the

                        Home Service), Long Wave (for the Light Programme) and three Short Wave Bands for

                        overseas broadcasts.  The picture on the left gives some idea of what the it looked like -

                        but ours did not have the TV.  The ‘wireless’ was a great source of comfort and entertainment during the dark days of the war, and I have fond memories sitting on my stool (Joyce in her basket chair) listening to Uncle Mac, Toy Town (remember Larry the Lamb?), Norman & Henry Bones, the boy detectives, and other great children’s favourites.  As we got a little older we also listened to Paul Temple; ITMA with Tommy Handley, with the great characters, Mrs Mopp, Colonel Chinstrap etc on Monday evenings at 8.30, but then followed by the chimes of Big Ben and the 9 o’clock news during which we had to remain very quiet.  I remember asking my mother if there would be any more news when the war was over!

Preparations

A number of things stick out in my memory of those days

1. •    The gas mask that had to be carried at all times
   

2. •    The black out with black curtains over the windows to block any stray light and double curtains
   

        over the doors

1. •    Tape over the windows to prevent flying glass
   

2. •    The brightness of the stars at night whose brilliance was enhanced by the lack of light pollution,
        even although it wasn’t nearly as bad as today
   

3. •    Siren suits – an invention of Winston Churchill (?) – a one piece zipped or buttoned suit with a
   

        hood into which we could quickly jump in the event of an air raid at night without having to

        put on our clothes.