May LEE’s story about WW2

When war was declared on September 3rd 1939, I was a nineteen years old girl living at home with my parents and two older brothers. The house was a recently built [1930s] 3 bedroomed semi-detached, in a row of similar houses. We had a garage-cum-workshop, a back garden and a small front garden, but no driveway to the garage, so only my brother's motorbike could get to it. We did not have a car, washing machine, telephone or fridge. My mother washed clothes and bedding in a hot tub and used a mangle to take the excess water out. The mode of travel was by public transport or on my brother's motorbike, or walking. Contact with friends and relatives was by post. The house was situated on land bordering an old quarry, about three miles from Bolton town centre. My parents had recently sold their business- a shop and a small row of houses, which were let and my mother worked in a mill before the war. I worked for a firm making ladies and children's underwear.

 At first, nothing happened except all the young men in the Territorial Forces were called for active service. I became a member of the Red Cross attending lectures on first aid and demonstrations of mock air raids. After about 6 months all homes, where possible, were supplied with steel Anderson shelters. My father dug a large hole at the bottom of the garden and erected the shelter, then covered it with soil. A deeper hole was dug in one corner of the shelter to collect drainage water. It had a door, a couple of bunks and a chair. It was always damp and cold and was used only when absolutely necessary, and was vacated immediately the 'all clear' siren sounded. I went into the shelter only once- that was when bombing started over Manchester about 12 miles away and came to Bolton as well. In Bolton, [my home town], we had only a few air raids and little damage. 

All homes had to have blackout curtains and the smallest light or even a lit cigarette attracted an Air Raid Warden. At this stage, food was not rationed or in short supply. The younger of my two brothers was conscripted into the RAF as ground crew. My oldest brother was an engineer on maintenance at a Power Station and so was in a reserved occupation.

In 1940, I was working at the underwear manufacturer and was also working part time as a Red Cross Nurse at Bolton Royal Infirmary. Later, in 1941, I was accepted as a probationer nurse for a 3 year training. The hospital was an old Victorian building with large wards. The windows of the ground floor wards were bricked up and all other windows covered all over with sticky tape to prevent flying glass. The hospital had our ration books and I lived in the Nurses Home [affectionately known as '41'] and was provided with food and my uniform. For off-duty entertainment all staff were invited to the local NAAFI.

Three wards of Bolton Royal were used for military wounded: two wards of British wounded and one of German wounded. During an air raid warning, all walking patients went down into the cellars- all others especially in first floor wards had mattresses under the beds and it was quite an upheaval at 1:00 am to transfer all patients to a safer place. I worked on German and British occupied wards. In the beginning we had guards at the ward entrance for the Germans- but these patients were so well cared for that no one ever attempted to get out, so the guards soon disappeared. 

At times, we had to prepare German patients for repatriation.  Many patients did not want to leave to go back to Germany. We had lots of fun with the British wounded men- mostly were gun-shot injuries and lacerations; some were malaria; they were all army patients. The German ward was a mixture of army and air force, most were friendly and grateful for their care, but just a few were arrogant Nazis who played German marching music all day long on a record player. We had a lonely Russian soldier in with the Germans, how he was with them we never knew- he spoke no German and no one spoke Russian. We had a lady visitor who spoke Russian and she visited very often.

Our occupational therapists came to the wards and all were encouraged to make leather goods or draw or basket weave. Our Russian patient made me a pair of gloves.

We heard rumours of concentration camps, but the Germans refused to believe them, I think they knew nothing of such places as Belsen. It was a much happier ward for the British Army and they were free to go out anywhere they pleased.

At one of the NAAFI concerts I met an RAF fellow who invited me to his home in Elstree. During the week on leave in London, all was very quiet, it was early 1943 and a lull between the fire-bombing and the V2 rockets. I was amazed to see Londoners settling down for the night in bunks on the platforms of underground stations.  Men, women and children down every night. I saw very little of the blitz; my hospital never received any casualties from bombing raids because there were very few injuries in Bolton. Manchester was really bad- we used to watch the night sky lit up from the bombs.

The food in hospital was just adequate but we probably fared better than my mother and father who were both working in a munitions factory. When off duty [which wasn't very much] I would enjoy dancing with friends at the local Palais-de-dance. 

 All through the war since 1941 I was studying for my state registration as a nurse, and gained this in 1945 just before VE day.

 After VE day, a few of the forces were returning home and there at the Palais I met a soldier home on sick leave- he had been a POW in Germany and had been wounded by American planes; his camp were being moved further into Germany from Eichstatt when the American planes strafed them and so he was brought home wounded. Once better he was stationed at a REME depot in Preston.

 On VJ day in September 1945, John my now soldier fiancée  came to a huge bonfire celebration at my hospital- just outside the children's ward. No fireworks then!

 I married John on June 1st 1946. I had no clothing coupons for a wedding dress, so a friendly tailor used Army clothing coupons and made me a suit for my wedding. Food and clothes were rationed for another few years. It made catering for my wedding very difficult.

I did not realise how difficult it had been for food, clothing and furniture during the war as my food [poor though it was] was provided by the hospital. I know I fared better than my parents.

This can still be found on the BBC site as May’s story: nursing in Bolton by Joan_Harvey at: http://www.bbc.co.uk/history/ww2peopleswar/stories/53/a8158953.shtml . Oddly enough, the BBC categorised it under London.  158953 is the article number, and it was contributed in 31 December 2005, and can still be found.

A response from a reader on 02 Jan 2006 is as follows: Hi Joan 
I found your story and thought it was most interesting it sounds like you might have lived off Belmont Rd. I lived in Whitehill cottages until 3years ago. I was very interested in your description of the
German ward in BRI.in 1943 I came back to live in Bolton with my grandmother, my Mum and Dad had to leave our home in Sussex due to the constant air raids, and your description of the Manchester Blitz reminded me of the train from London dropping us at Piccadilly station late at night in the midst of an incendary bomb attack, we had to cross Manchester on foot to get to the station to catch the Bolton Train I was only 8 years old at the time but I have vivid memories of us running and sheltering in doorways as the bombs rained down, it seemed to me that the whole of Manchester was on fire, when we eventually reached Central station it too was being bombed my dad was dragging my mother along the platform with me tucked under his arm, he literally threw us onto the train which travelled to Bolton non-stop it did slow down at stations en-route but never stopped completely people had to trust to luck and jump on and off the moving carriages, the reason was that the train was the Target of attack all the way Dad said it was because the Luftwaffe pilots and navigators could see the glow of the Firebox on arrival at Trinity St station several incendaries came through the glass canopy and the railwaymen and ARP wardens were putting out the fires with sand carried on very long handled shovels also Stirrup pumps were used. I am now retired and live in a small bungalow close to Hall'i'th'Wood Museum a place my Dad used to Guard as a Sergeant in the Home Guard. If you are interested I have posted two stories of my memories of Sussex and the events that
my father confirmed before he Died. They are titled 'How my Dad breached the Geneva convention' and 'A lucky Escape Cheers HopalongSam.

HopalongSam is as follows: I am a retired local authority youth Justice /social worker/Guardian ad litem. I worked in Salford for 25 years and also worked as a part/time youth centre manager in Bolton for 31 years' I will be 71 in April 2006. I am married with 4 children 2boys and 2 girls, My wife and I separated after 47 years of marriage, we remain good friends and live only a half mile apart. we have 4 grandchildren and one greatgrandchild. I was born in Bolton Lancs at my maternal grandmothers house, where my mother had returned (as was the custom) to give birth, we returned to my father and home when I was 6 weeks old. My Dad was in private service as a head gardener, my mother was a ladies hairdresser and wigmaker, who had gone to work in London to gain further experience it was at the Chelsea flower show where she met my Father who was showing Alpines for the Rt Hon Sir Vickary-Gibbs, his employer at that time. They married after a whirlwind romance 6 weeks later so my child hood was spent on a number of private estates in Sussex. My parents and I returned to Bolton in 1943 to live initially with my grandparents and then moved to a semi-detached house on the outskirts. After going into Hospital two years ago for a circulatory problem I contracted MRSA, which attacked the Synovial fluid which my body can no longer produce, and left me with a degenerative Hip condition which seriously impairs my mobility and according to my Orthopaedic surgeon is inoperable.

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