At this time my friend Irene and I were knitting jumpers and having a race to see who would finish first. Irene's was bright emerald green and mine was blue. One morning, after a particularly heavy night of bombing, Irene was late in coming to school. The 'All-clear' had gone at 2.45a.m. so we were expected to be at school by 9 a.m. and everyone thought she had overslept and were worried as she would be in trouble! Irene didn't arrive at 10 a.m. nor did she come to school that morning. I could barely wait for school to finish, and I ran straight to Irene's house, or, I should say, to where Irene's house had stood. It was flattened - a direct hit. I was devastated, particularly when I saw her green jumper sticking up out of the rubble. She had been knitting in the shelter trying to beat me. I think it was the sight of this pathetic scrap of knitting that got to me. I don't know how long I stood there, absolutely numb. Wardens were moving the rubble and saw me - 'Irene?' I gulped. 'Go home, pet' said one man. 'There's no-one alive.' I continued to stand in a daze, tears of disbelief and horror now pouring down my face. Vaguely I heard a voice saying 'They died instantly, they wouldn't know what had happened' and gentle hands turned my face away from the carnage before me. I can't remember walking home as my mind screamed 'No! No, not Irene, it's not true. She'll be at school this afternoon, sitting beside me as usual.' Somehow I reached home and when I told my Mam I cried as if I would never stop. She put her arms around me and held me trying her best to comfort me, but grief is a lonely business. No-one can plunge the depths of despair that you fall into at times like this. As Proverbs 14 v. 10 says "Only the person involved can know his own bitterness, sorrow or joy - no-one else can really share it."

Yes, I felt bitterness that the Germans could kill my best friend, and yes I knew sorrow. I couldn't bear to think my friend may have suffered. It was the violent death of an innocent child. It was, for me, the worst moment of the war. I now had to come to terms with the empty seat beside me, the lonely walks to school and the sick feeling that I would never see her again. I tried my best to reason that I wasn't alone in this sorrow, somewhere in our country dozens of children were each feeling as I did after losing a friend or relative . It was War, something that had to be endured and overcome, but it was hard. I later heard that not only had Irene been killed, but her Mother, sister and little brother also. Her father, on returning home from A,R.P duty in another area had collapsed when he saw the devastation - his family wiped out. He had a complete mental breakdown and never recovered.

Eldon Street where my dear friend Irene was killed

This is one of two large craters at Pier Parade which blocked the entrance to Sea Road

The remains of a large department store which had already been damaged the previous month when rolls of lino, carpets and other goods were flung a considerable distance.

The restaurant next door was totally obliterated and a number of people were trapped in the basement. A rescue party foreman who afterwards received the George Medal for gallantry was lowered head first into the cellar and managed to rescue three people. His citation reads

'In spite of a concentration of coal gas from a broken main, and the possible collapse of heavy masonry, he continued searching for the remaining victims. One youth and an elderly woman were found and extricated but another woman was buried up to her neck and in danger from the likely collapse of wreckage. Without hesitation he placed himself in a position to hold up the unsafe debris and maintained this until the casualty was removed.'
This is only one instance of the daily bravery of men and women during the war. The preceding pictures are only three taken after the same raid, but there were, of course, many other places that were hit.

I remember about this time Mam became very ill with rheumatoid arthritis. She was unable to sleep at night and would walk the floor in pain so I was kept off school to look after her and the house whilst Mam tried to snatch a few moments sleep. I would go out for the rations which I didn't mind as I was used to going with Mam so I knew what to do. There were no Self Service shops as there are now, it was all waiting in the queue for your turn to come when you would hand over the ration books and be told what they had in. 'Sorry, no cornflakes today - maybe next week' 'Sorry no soap' which was also rationed by now, one small bar had to last four weeks, and so it went on. Butter would be cut from a large piece and patted into shape. Cheese was also cut from a big chunk whilst sugar was scooped out from a large barrel and put into blue paper bags. It took a long time to shop in those days! I can't remember how long I was kept off school but I didn't mind.

The thing Billy and I did mind was taking a tin bath full of dirty washing to a local Washerwoman and then returning two or three days later for the washed and ironed clothes. A week's washing for four people meant that the bath was piled high and heavy and we had to put it down many times and change sides. We hated doing this, but it had to be done as washing machines were unheard of and Mam certainly couldn't cope. Looking back I think of how selfish I was thinking only of myself when our poor Mam was in such pain. I'll draw a curtain over this rather churlish attitude I think!!

Going back to school I, with others, listened entranced to 'The Peer Gynt Suite' by Grieg. The class would sit spellbound listening to 'In the Hall of the Mountain King' and 'Solveig's Song' amongst others. We also heard 'The Hebridean Overture' and were told to close our eyes and imagine the waves crashing onto the rocks and pouring into Fingal's Cave. I could imagine it well and even today, over 60 years later, I just have to hear these pieces and I'm wafted back on the wings of memory to that small classroom where I, in my imagination, stood on the wild cliff-top and looked down on the ferocious crashing waves, or stood in the Hall of the Mountain King watching the antics of the Trolls.

We also had singing lessons when we would sing pieces such as 'Who is Sylvia, what is she?' and we were also taught the National Anthems of the Allies. There was a lot of singing during the war. We would sing on the way to school, and girls on their way to the factories would sing. Men whistled on the way to work, delivery boys whistled as they rode by on their bikes. In fact when I was asked recently what I missed most about my childhood I said 'The whistling' it was a happy sound, and as we walked to and from school the sound of whistling filled the air at every step. It was the sound of contentment, of an attitude which said 'We are all in this together, and we're going to win' and so it was also the sound of comfort and happiness as we smiled at one another . It was a bond of comradeship.

I also remember our Quiet afternoons on a Friday. The teacher would open the Library and the section sitting the quietest would have first choice. I never misbehaved at these times as I was an avid reader and was keen to get first choice! It was here that I first read the Nancy Drew Mysteries - wonderful books. There was never a sound in the classroom on these afternoons as we poured over our thrilling stories.

Before the war I had been going to piano lessons so now that we were settled - as far as we could see - my piano lessons were re-started. Dad was a pianist so he kept a watchful eye on my progress. When I was practising he would come in and say 'Point out to me where you are up to' and I would be lost! I had memorised the piece and had no idea where I was up to. So I had to go back again and look at the music and follow it. I remember getting 'A Maiden's Prayer' which was difficult as it consisted mainly of octaves and my hand was too small to reach them comfortably. I liked music, but didn't like the hours of practising I was supposed to put into it. It proved to be a very useful accomplishment, but more of that later.

Another memory of this time is of being strapped to a chair at mealtimes. Evidently I had been slouching and Mam was not going to have that! 'If you wont sit up straight, Madam, I'll make you' she said and so out came the rope and I was tied firmly to a straight-backed chair. Of course I complained and said I couldn't reach my plate, but, as they knew I could, my complaints were ignored and I was told 'No talking at mealtimes.' So I gave up and ate my meal as best I could. I can't remember how many weeks or months I was tied up but when I was eventually allowed to sit untied believe me my back was ramrod straight!!!

On the way to the shelter, especially at night, I would look up to see the criss-cross beams of the searchlights as they tried to pick out the enemy planes, but I was soon moved along by my parents for, as interesting as it was to watch the dog-fights, it was also dangerous with shrapnel and bombs flying around! The following day was great, though, as the children would scour the streets looking for shrapnel and most boys had large collections which they would swop for larger pieces. The idea being to see who could amass the largest and most interesting collection.

I remember the shock the whole country felt when the pride of our Navy, 'The Hood' was sunk by the Bismark which was the pride of the German Navy. We felt devastated. We had thought her unsinkable. Our teachers discussed this with us at school and we all felt full of vengeance against the hated Bismark. Churchill agreed with us!!! and he sent instructions to the Navy 'Sink the Bismark'. This was a difficult task to perform as the Bismark had massive guns which could outreach any of our ships. Our teachers showed us pictures of the Bismark and explained all this to us so we wondered how our Navy was going to sink it. We weren't left wondering for long, however, as THREE DAYS later the news came through 'The Bismark is sunk'. What rejoicing there was through the country. The feared ship would sink no more of our ships,no more of our sailors would drown at sea because of the Bismark. The names of 'Bismark' 'Tirpitz' and 'Scharnhorst' had become feared household names so it was a great relief to us all, especially those who had menfolk in the Navy, to hear that one by one we were sinking these feared powerful ships. Thousands of South Shields men were in either the Royal or Merchant Navy and, I believe, our town lost more naval men than any other town during the war.

Lord Haw Haw, in his regular broadcasts to us from Germany, laughed at the Hood's sinking, in fact he made up a song and sang 'Oh where, oh where has your ship the Hood gone' to the tune of 'Oh where, oh where has my little dog gone.' He laughed as he said it was at the bottom of the sea. He was an evil man who was regularly on our wireless saying how many of our planes they had shot down - always exaggerating! His name was Wm. Joyce an Irishman who hated the Allies, and we would laugh at him and his silly laugh of 'Haw Haw' at the end of each sentence which is why he was nicknamed Lord Haw Haw. I remember listening to him and his silly claims, and the next day people would ask 'Did you hear old Haw Haw last night? Where he gets his information from goodness knows' and he was a source of amusement most times, but when he was particularly vicious and glorying in our sailors' and airmen's deaths he was hard to take so he was switched off. At the end of the war he was caught, tried and hanged.

Most Saturdays were spent queuing. There was always some shop with a notice in their window saying, for example, 'Onions here, Sat. 4 p.m.' By 7 a.m. Mam would be standing in the queue outside the shop. At 9 a.m. I would take over. When 11 a.m. came it was Aunty's turn with Mam again at 1 p.m. My Aunt would then go for her lunch and at 3 p.m. it was my turn again. The pie that was cooked with a little meat from our rations, would be shared by all. We also queued for cakes as the Bakers were allowed a certain amount of ingredients and these cakes were 'off the ration.' Often, however, the cakes you wanted had gone by the time it was your turn so no-one knew exactly what they would be taking home.

Women had a difficult time during the war. Not only had they to cope with food rationing and all its shortages; clothes on coupons; points for the occasional un-rationed item; long hours standing in queues; the stress of air raids and getting weary children up and off to school in the mornings whilst weary themselves; daylight raids, worrying whether the Docks had been hit, was her husband still alive, were the children safe or had the school been hit; but there was also the lack of household goods that we take for granted such as vacuums, fridges, washing machines - none of these were available. We had carpet sweepers, butter was kept in its dish standing in a bowl of cold water to keep it from melting, and washing of clothes was done in the wash-house.

There were no bathrooms for most people, no hot water, the weekly Friday bath was in a long tin bath in front of the fire, the water being heated in large pans on the fire or gas stove if they had one. No, it was not an easy life for women who were also expected to do their bit for the war effort in some way. Looking back I don't know how they coped and still managed to provide reasonably tasty meals on so little yet with a smile. Unsung heroes!

Elizabeth Aynsley ©

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