You could blow inside them which would make a rude noise through the lose part that hung in front. When it came off it was all wet and sweaty and I felt as if my face had been crushed. You were not allowed to do this once it was on. I would have to poke my finger inside it to clear the condensation from the little glass lens, otherwise I couldn’t see. Within a few minutes of having my Gas Mask on it would steam up inside. I would go through this agony each time I wore it. Adults never listened to what I said about the Gas Masks hurting me, or had to wear them. The thick elastic would go through small metal brackets to keep the elastic in place, but this would catch my hair and pull it out. I was never allowed to put it on or take it off on my own. My mother was keen for me to wear it for 10 minutes each day. I was two years old and was considered by the British Government to be old enough to have my own Gas Mask. It was a large house with a large garden that became frightening, as you could get lost in it. We moved away from Shrewsbury to Castle Cary in Somerset where my Aunty and Uncle lived. It was a relatively happy time for us children, picnicking in the hills with sheep and their baby lambs to watch, until it was time to start wearing our Gas Masks.īy May 1944 my new baby brother was 9 months old, but I still didn’t know where he came from. I had many Aunties who were her friends and their children became my playmates. My mother had many friends who were in the same position as she was, on her own. A full moon would give the crews an idea of their location. At night she would see the German aircraft twisting and turning, following the River Severn in the reflection of the moon. It was blackout time, but my mother would peep out of the window from the rear of the house on the top floor when it was full moon. This paid for two rooms that we lived in with water dripping into a bowl when it rained. My mother’s allowance for rent from the RAF was 10 shillings a week (50 pence). I became the daughter of Mr and Mrs Tom and Alice Sparkes. I was born on the top floor of a Tudor House on the borders of England and Wales near to the English Bridge. I was late in my arrival and was born at 6pm on the 6th day of May, weighing 6 lbs. My Father who was away serving in the RAF was keen for my Mother to move away from London. This was because my Mother had been bombed out of her home by the enemy. I was not born in London, but in Shrewsbury, Shropshire. She was sixteen years old at the time and was working as a Post Office Clerk. He soon met my mother in Islington, where she was born and grew up. He came to the West End of London to work as a newly qualified pharmacist and set up home nearby. The women who belonged to his family were Lace Makers. My Mother was a Londoner and had married in London to my Father who was from Beer, a fishing village in Devon. I was unaware that there was a war going on around me. The Second World War had been going for two years and nine months.
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