Voices from the OxHRF - '...everything was either dug up, covered up, or taken away’

Mrs Prince as a youth in a 'patch and make do' sash

EL Laskar writes: This weekend the UK has a public holiday to mark Victory in Europe Day, also known as VE Day. The nation is encouraged to mark the day with celebration in remembrance of the formal acceptance by the Allies of World War II of Nazi Germany’s unconditional surrender of its armed forces on 8 May 1945 - this marked the end of World War II in Europe. In this blog, and the two to follow, take the opportunity to share the voices and acknowledge the resilience of children and young people in war times.

When was the last time you took time out from watching the news to read the rights of children? According to UNHCR 70.8 million people are forced to flee their home, 25.9 million are refugees and half of the refugees are children. Today, approximately 415 million children grow up in a war zone. We stretch the banner of human rights but what does that mean for children that get caught up in wars, political turmoils and disturbances? What are their stories of resilience? And how can individuals, academics and organisations listen, understand and help care for their welfare as they make their journey into adulthood? Today we have global organisations like the United Nations International Children’s Emergency Fund (UNICEF) and Save the Children who are dedicated to the protection of children and uphold the UN Convention on the Rights of the Child. 

It is fortuitous that this year we exhibited a selection of documents from a memoir of a British woman who had been a child in the UK during the Second World War. She had lived in Oxford for a good part of her life but eventually moved back to the county she was born in.

Mrs Prince was six years old when the war began and her memories give an account of what it was like growing up as a child in a war zone. In her later years she wrote about her experience in WWII in the UK (1939 - 1945). 

World War Two in Europe began on 3rd September 1939. “The Second World War was a time of major upheaval for children in Britain. Over a million were evacuated from town and cities and had to adjust to separation from family and friends. Many of those who stayed, endured bombing raids and were injured or made homeless. All had to deal with the threat of gas attack, air raid precautions (ARP), rationing, changes at school and in their daily lives. Disruption and shortages continued after the war and the post-war period saw changes that would have a lasting impact on children's lives.’ (IWM 2018). 

Mrs Prince writes “...everything was either dug up, covered up, or taken away’. 

In her short memoir she recalls the disruptions of everyday life acknowledging the psychological and physical impacts on her childhood. From recurring nightmares to the rationing of food and clothing, the extracts give a glimpse into how communities and individuals lived, adapted and strengthened each other's resilience.

[Mrs Prince] When I was six years old the war broke out. One Sunday the 3rd of September 1939, at 11.15am. Neville Chamberlain the Prime Minister broadcast to the people, telling them that for the second time in a generation they were at war with the Germans. 

My Mother had been preparing vegetables for the Sunday lunch, and she was hurriedly wiping her hand so that we could all go into the sitting room and listen to the speech. 

My brother, (who is twenty months older than I) and myself were told to sit down and be quiet. My mother and Father looked extremely serious, and I felt rather bored. 

I do remember our parents telling us that in future whenever the news came on the wireless, that they expected complete silence, and this was strictly adhered to.

At 11.28am the same morning the eerie rising and falling note of the sirens was heard over most of England for the first time under war conditions, apparently a French aircraft crossed the channel unheralded. I had butterflies in my tummy every time I heard that horrible warbling, and I knew things were going to be different.

The blackout which lasted from the 1st September 1939 until the 17th of September 1944 was a dreary affair for everyone. Not a chink of light was allowed to be seen anywhere. We had already bought and fixed, yards of black materials at a shilling a yard.. My mother soon had the sewing machine out and made up the black curtains to go on top of the ordinary ones. Then on top of those we put a thick blanket. Door shields were made as well, some people used dark paint, or tacked linoleum over little-sued windows. Low wattage bulbs replaced the bright ones, and some were not used at all, especially in halls.

Careless citizens were taken to court and fines imposed, or else faced the prospect of stones being hurled through the window. I remember the A.R.P. warden knocking on the door one night, because we had a tiny chink of light showing, my mother was most put out about it. If a person had more than one warning, the next time there was a visit from the Police and then action would be taken.

We had noticed a very bright light, which could be seen from the front upstairs window, the police were informed and it was traced to the docks which must have been at least three and a half miles away, fortunately it proved to be innocent. [Panel 1]

[Mrs Prince] So many restrictions were imposed in the early days, it is difficult to mention them all. There was a ban on torches, and far more seriously, on car headlights, causing road accidents to rise by one hundred per cent in the first month. Later car headlights were permitted with the use of masks, which threw a narrow beam downwards. Curbs and steps were daubed with white paint, illuminated signs were maked. Iron railings were removed by the lorry load, although some people managed to keep theirs, sign posts were taken down, making travelling very difficult for people on unfamiliar ground.

All in all it appeared as though the face of the world was altering, everything was either dug up, covered up, or taken away. 

Hundreds of sand bags appeared, especially at the entrances to the air-raid shelters. These were situated outside, either in ones own back garden, in the street and always around the edge of playgrounds in schools. They were called “Anderson Shelters”, made up of curved pieces of corrugated tin, put into the ground, with a covering of earth or grass over the top. 

…...And so one of these was duly delivered to our home, it was so big the only place we could put it of all places was in the “sun room”. It proved to be very useful when we had many people in the house and was wonderful for games, but I never remember using it for the purpose it was intended for.

…. Rationing started on the 8th January 1940. The first items were bacon, ham, sugar and butter, followed by meat in March, rationed by price not weight, I believe only a shillings worth was allowed. [Panel 2]

[Mrs Prince]  If we had butter on our bread we were not allowed jam on it, only if we had margarine were we allowed something on it, usually homemade jam. We had wonderful cakes made out of next to nothing, and Mother’s specially was peppermint sweets. She would spend hours preparing dishes, and we always came home to a hot meal. I can still see in my minds eye school dinners during and after the war, and I recoil in horror and revulsion at the mere thoughts of them. I don’t think I hardly ever had a meal where there wasn’t maggots in the rice pudding or semolina, and caterpillars in the cabbage.

People could always get things on the “black market”, or under the counter, as it was called, especially if they had plenty of money, but my Mother only had one pound eleven pence a week army allowance, which didn’t leave much for any more than our fair share. [Panel 3]

[Mrs Prince] No longer was I allowed to go for walks up the hill, which I considered my playground, along with my friends. The house was filled with eight A.T.S girls. One day an Officer came to the door with two privates. After looking over the house, the furniture was moved into one corner of the largest bedroom, the carpet was folded up, and then a large black tarpaulin was placed over the late, and then sealed with sticky tape. Later a truck brought eight iron bedsteads and these were put side by side, somehow the bedroom appeared quite small now. Every morning an officer came to the house to inspect the room to see if everything was neat and tidy, especially the beds. [Panel 4]

Exhibition panels of Mrs Prince's memoirs

[Mrs Prince] Every morning at school gas masks were checked and then we had gas mask practice. I hated it, and even the thoughts of it now makes me feel quite claustrophobic. 

If the siren sounded and the warbling started, there was no outward panic, we stood up and walked out in two’s across the playground into the Anderson shelter. It was quite large holding thirty children or more. After a short while it used to get quite hot and stuffy, that was probably due to all the lusty singing that went on. There were crude benches along each side, and a very dull light, and that was about all. Before we started singing we would listen intently trying to recognise the sound of the planes saying, “that’s one of our’s”, then a voice would say, “no that’s Gerry”, we really prided ourself on the fact that we could distinguish one arcraft from the other.

Some children would cry or wet themselves, the Teachers trying very hard to pacify them, I suppose in case we all started, and panic set in. Once we all began sining favourite songs it wasn’t so bad. “Run Rabbit Run”, and “Hey Little Hen”, “Roll Out The Barrel”, “Boomps-a-Daisy”, “Wer’e gonna Hang Out The Washing on the Siegried Line”, “Wish me Luck as you Wave me Goodbye” and many more.

Songs were endless, but one stands out in my memory that children loved to sing, it was ung to the tune of “Whistle While you Work”, from Walt Disney’s film Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. It went

You whistle while you work
Mussolini bought a shirt
Hitler wore it-Musso tore it

You whistle while you work  [Panel 5]

[Mrs Prince] Clothes rationing came into force in June 1941. Clothes prices nearly doubled in a little over eighteen months. Rationing was not by the garment but on a point system…….“Make do and Mend”, was another familiar slogan, and we certainly had to. [Panel 7]

During the exhibition we shared 7 panels that Mrs Prince had carefully typed out. Typed out by hand during pre computer days. The typeset is heavy and the odd typo has been gently tippexed out leaving a characterful manuscript that is part of the story it holds. From what we have been able to share you can get a rough idea of the physical and mental chaos that arrived in a flash into Mrs Prince's life. The absolute disruption of normal life, having to adapt swiftly to new rules and regulations, witnessing your home being transformed into a boarding house for officers and suddenly living with strangers, having an absent father on the battlefield, a mother who eventually falls sick and the list goes on. Mrs Prince's resilience shines through her memoirs. 

I will conclude by reflecting on the role of music and song in a time of crisis - Mrs Prince lists several songs  and her experience at school was used by her teachers as a tool to calm, comfort and strengthen the children. We have seen the same tools used during the disruption with the global pandemic. We have seen over and over again how children, youth, individuals and communities have embraced music to keep going. We will be exploring the idea of music and resilience in a future blog.

The war did end for Mrs Prince. “To celebrate V.E.Day we had a street party, a large iced cake took pride of pace in the centre of the table, it had been decorated with red, white and blue cotton, with small paper union jack flags in each square…. We were able to go to London for the V.E. celebrations. It was a wonderful occasion, and although I got lost at one point, it didn't spoil the excitement of the day…. Everyone was so happy, dancing and singing, throwing bunging about and waving flags.” (Mrs Prince, War Child WWII)

[EL Laskar Coordinator OxHRF] Mrs Prince is sadly no longer with us and we thank her family for letting the OxHRF display some of her inspiring writing.