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Chapter One - How it all began.

It was Sunday the third of September 1939,and I wept because at almost sixteen I was too young to get involved in the war - so I thought. After all, it was all going to be over by Christmas, or so people said.

We rapidly learnt about black-outs( not the W.A.A.F. issue knickers!! I learnt about them MUCH later.)and my Mother trained for the A.R.P. ( Air Raid Precautions ) and I can still remember a bit of the jingle designed to teach folk how to recognise poison gas, "Phosgene smells like musty hay" for example. Who, nowadays would know what musty hay smells like?

Walking at night in the black-out, especially on cloudy or moonless nights, was full of unimagined hazards. One night my Father came out of a phone-box and bumped into the back-side of an elephant, and on another occassion he only missed walking straight into a black man because the man smiled and his lovely white teeth gleamed in the darkness. We all took to wearing luminous disks on our lapels and one had to beef-up their slight glow by holding them near a light for a few minutes before venturing into the (usually) stygian gloom.

Because of the out-break of war, I lost my first job which was as shorthand-typist cum telephonist with a firm of garage/motor agents which of course ceased almost totally from petrol rationing and, I think an embargo on the selling of new cars. Instead I went to work for General Accident Fire And Life Assurance Corporation at 13 Clare Street. My sister worked just up the road in Corn Street, at The Royal Exchange Assurance, we were both paid so poorly that we mostly walked into the City each morning, because we could not afford tram or bus fares. Looking back I wonder that our employers had the nerve to expect us to come neatly clothed and to have absolute probity and good morals for such an insulting amount - nevertheless we did.

My long-time friend Elaine Stevens worked for the B.B.C. who had come to Bristol from London as being a safer base - how very wrong they were!!! Through her I joined the B.B.C. Club Choir where Sir Adrian Boult was one of the Basses, so I had the joy of singing in many and varied situations. This was a very privileged experience, and I particularly remember on a Good Friday singing the whole of the St.Matthew Passion - B.B.C.Symphony Orchestra with Sir Adrian conducting, - because of the great length of the work we sang part of it in the morning and the rest after lunch. We did many recordings and broadcasts such as Join in and Sing," and music to accompany a play ( recorded at Bristol Cathedral with Dr. Thalben Ball playing the organ; we sang in German, one piece I remember was singing "Ein Feste Borg ist unser Gott,".

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