DOB: 16/08/1935

I think the war was hardest on the mums and dads. The dads all worked in the shipyards or munitions factories or as farm workers – the reserved occupations. My father was an engineer in the torpedo factory, and he worked long hours – coming home at 8 o’clock at night, really tired. He was also an ARP Warden. He had a tin hat, and on the door was a little plaque saying ARP Warden. When there was an air raid and the siren went, he would have to run away to the shore where there was a station where the ARPs kept watch. Over the town, there was a huge big barrage balloon secured with ropes and chains, to presumably protect the shipyards.

There were no streetlights, it was very, very dark. If you had to go out after dark it was quite tricky, and you were liable to fall over the pavement. Some people had a little torch, shielded at the end, so it produced a tiny beam of light – just enough to show you where you were going.

When the air raid siren went at night, we were brought out of our beds. We didn’t have a shelter as we lived in a tenement. We had reinforced wooden beams at the bottom of the close for protection, but no shelter. I don’t know if it would have protected us much if we’d been hit. The ladies in the bottom two flats would open their doors and put their kitchen chairs out so that the mums could get a seat. Over the front of the close, there was a huge big blackout curtain that was only let down during the air raid, and on the outside we had a brick baffle wall. This was to prevent blast or shrapnel from coming into the close if there was a hit nearby.

It wasn’t comfortable in the close during raids. We’d try to sleep or sing songs. It was freezing too, especially if you’d just come out of a warm bed. My granny and my mother had a big woollen scarf each, and they stitched up the middle of them to make a big pixie hood and a scarf. They’d wrap this round our chest under our coat to keep us warm. The minute the all clear went, we’d rush back up the stair and tumble into our bed. On those mornings, you didn’t have to go to school, or you just went in late.

The mums had quite a hard job. My mum was always at home because she had a baby, my sister being newly born when the war began. The mums had to work out all this rationing and feed their families on anything they could get. In those days, we went home from school for our lunch, or dinner as we called it then, and the men came out the yards when the 12 o’clock horn went. They all went home for their meal too. All you could get unrationed was vegetables, so the mums could get plenty of leeks, potatoes, carrots and turnips, but meat, bread, sugar, butter, jam, were all rationed. Even fruit wasn’t always available. I remember a neighbour rushed up to me shouting, “go tell your mum there’s bananas for the green book”. The green ration book was for the under 5s.

I remember you had to queue up for everything during the war – you queued up at the butchers to see if you could get nice meat – anything – like stewing steak or whatever to make a good nourishing meal. We ate a lot of soups in those days, lots of vegetable soups made with a shank of bone – there were no stock cubes in those days. You just ate what was put down to you in those days, whatever it was. As they say ‘Hunger is a great sauce’. All the people who had gardens or plots were told to dig them up and plant them with vegetables so they could feed themselves.

The big thing that affected all of us children was no sweets. A quarter a pound a month, and that had to include your chocolate as well. So you tended to buy things that would last a long time, like boilings or mint drops. A lot of the mums saved up the sugar ration and made tablet. My mum would cut it up into squares and wrap it in kitchen paper. We would get to scrape round the pot after, and eat what was stuck to the sides. My mum would make apple pies and crumbles. She also made things with rhubarb - she was a great cook.

Sweetie rationing went on for a long time. I was in high school when it ended. One of my friends, May McNellis, wrote a poem about it. I think it went like this:

About April 1949
Marked an era new and fine
When we went to buy bon bons
We do not have to give coupons

There’s more that I can’t remember. It was published in the school magazine.

After that we went back onto sweet rationing again. The whole country went mad buying sweets and there was a shortage. I can’t remember how long this rationing lasted. I still love my sweeties and chocolate - I never lost the taste for it.

I remember powdered eggs. I think they were foul made into an omelette, but were okay when used as an ingredient in a batter or whatever. Shelled eggs came intermittently. People who had contacts with farms saw more eggs then we did – a boiled egg in a cup was a real treat.

I remember once – my granny lived in the next close – and we went down to her when the siren went, as my mother needed help with the children. We sat in the bottom flat and she opened the door and put chairs out for all the neighbours. My brother and cousin were imitating those whistling bombs and my granny came out and skelped their ears. They were alarming all the neighbours with their nonsense. It was no joke!

One of the exciting things was, because Greenock was a big port, lots of troop ships came in there, or went out from there. The back line from Princes Pier, which is now a cycle track, went straight up to Glasgow, so they could then all get taken to different places, so even troops coming in from Canada and America came in there, and were shipped up the back line. Sometimes they’d stop at the foot of our street – there was a signal there – and we’d stand in the street and shout down at them, “any gum, chum”? - and they’d throw us down some sweets.

My mum and dad had a huge big map of Europe behind the kitchen door. They had little flags on it, and when they heard on the news where our troops were moving, they would move the flags to show us. My parents were very interested in how the war was progressing and it was quite good for us children to see too.

VE DAy Celebrations at Benview Terrace, Greenock

I remember at the end of the war the street had a big party. All the trestle tables were brought out and all the mums put out their chairs. They hung up bunting, and the mums brought down things they had baked, little cakes and things. All the children sat round, having a party. It was a real celebration with people dancing. I don’t even know if we had any music.