At Trinity Homecare, we are privileged to support clients whose lives hold extraordinary stories of courage, family and resilience. Among them is Jean Nath, who shared her vivid memories of growing up in Swansea during the Second World War. Her reflections take us back to a time of ration books, air-raid shelters and moments of joy amid uncertainty a childhood shaped by both hardship and hope.
Now, in Jean’s own words, she shares her memories of life during wartime Britain a heartfelt glimpse into a huge chapter of her life.
‘There’s oranges down Barratt’s!’ declared Mrs T******, always the first of the neighbours to pass on the news. And with her shopping basket over her arm, and girding up her skirt, she was the first of the other housewives in our street to beetle off to Barratt’s to get them.
‘So what!’ you may say, Dear Reader. Well, it was like this: it was wartime and exotic fruits such as oranges or bananas were in short supply. The merchant ships which hitherto brought these to our shores were otherwise engaged. Food was rationed; and if you exceeded your issue for a given period, your larder stayed empty. My mam was careful in her management of our supplies; and it moves me to remember that she sometimes gave up her own rations, if my younger brother and I were particularly hungry. I suppose many mothers made the same sacrifice.
I particularly remember the shortage of confectionery and the notice in the shop at the top of the road: ‘No sweets, or cigarettes!’
Yes, wartime in Swansea was tough and included a Three-Night Blitz in February 1941, which flattened the town centre. I was nearly seven-years old at the time and remember sitting in our neighbours’ air-raid shelter (our own shelter was yet to be constructed in the garden). There, we played Claribell the Cow (which I think was a card game), as the incendiaries and high-explosives dropped on Swansea. I also remember carrying a gas-mask to Manselton Infants’ School. On one occasion, I was told off for chewing the case of my gas-mask, as we sung ‘Now the Day is Over’ at the end of the school day. I must have been quite bored – or hungry.
For long periods of the war, my dad was away from Swansea. Being a tinplate worker by trade, he was called to work in armaments, at places such as the Stanton Ironworks in Ilkeston (Derbyshire). We wrote regularly to him and eagerly awaited his letters. Since we had no telephone at home, he would let us know by telegram when he was coming back on leave. You can imagine our excitement when one of these documents was brought to the front door by a lad in a cap!
During his time at home, my dad, like other men, was expected to take part in air-raid patrols, for the Luftwaffe bombed Swansea many times, between June 1940 and early 1943. This was because the town was a major centre of industry, including coal, copper, tin and steel production; and its docks were also a target. When an incendiary bomb dropped on the home of an elderly neighbour, Mrs M******, setting it ablaze, my dad had to rescue her from her bedroom. Mrs M****** was unwilling to leave without an antique chair she was fond of, so my dad had to carry her down a ladder while she fussed about this chair. I think the chair was left behind, as the fire was by then so fierce!
I remember well the street parties following VE Day (May 1945), though I can’t think that we’d have had much to eat, since rationing was still the order of the day and indeed continued for some years after the war.
Jean’s story reminds us how the smallest details, a long-awaited orange, a telegram at the door, a neighbour’s act of courage, can hold immense meaning in times of adversity. It’s through memories like hers that we preserve not only history, but the enduring spirit of the generation that lived it.
We’re deeply honoured to share Jean’s recollections as part of our celebration of the remarkable lives within our care community.
If you or someone you love would like to share your own memories, we’d be delighted to hear from you, please get in touch at marketing@trinityhomecare.co.uk.
