BERMONDSEY GIRLS - Rose Amelia Wigzell - Part 4 - War and Peace

Oh yes, I remember where I was now, just left school.

Once I started work, I was able to give Mum a proper bit of housekeeping, and after I had got her a wheelchair,  I could keep some of my money aside to get some nice clothes and things I’d never had before.  Hats were all the rage then, and I had some really saucy ones, little caps with a big feather perched on top of my head, bonnets with flowers all round, big round picture hats like the Queen wore; you name it I had it!  And I managed a few good holidays with my friend Monnie before war broke out; we had a couple at a nice boarding house in Southend, and even Clacton once.

The only holiday most people from our area had was going hopping. Whole families would go off to Kent for the hop-picking season, it was a good way to get out of town and have a taste of the country.  Mum didn’t hold with it at all. ‘You go hopping, you come back jumping’ she would say, referring to the fleas and tick bites hoppers could get.  I went once with a friend, and she was right. I hated every bloody minute, crowded into little huts, all dirt and mud – in spite of the jolly campfires and that, to me it was just filthy and I was glad to get back home. Even the Old Kent Road looked good to me after that! I’ve never been keen on the country ever since; proper townie I am.

Apart from riding my bike, ice-skating was my hobby. I used to get my pretty little skating frocks off a stall in Rye Lane covered market; the man used to keep anything for me he thought I might like, and if I do say so myself I cut a nice figure on the ice at the Silver Blades Ice Rink in Streatham. A crowd of us used to go, it was good fun but I never could persuade our Elsie to come, it was a bit too adventurous for her.

 Louis Wigzell had always been fond of me, and my family all loved him.  He was a very quiet bloke, not the sort my family expected me to go for, but then you can’t ever tell with matters of the heart.  In fact my Mum said he was too good for me, cos I used to tease him a bit and he was so serious.  His family were better off than us, his Dad had been in the Army, and was a Civil Servant right until he died at 73, so some thought they were a bit upper-crust; but they were lovely and everyone was happy for us when we got engaged on my 21st Birthday.  Lou got me a lovely square-cut diamond ring, which my Linda has got now.

Well life and the war went on and Lou volunteered for the RAF. His Mum and Dad weren’t too pleased about it, as he was a carpenter at a building firm, which was a reserved occupation.  In fact his Dad shed a tear when he went off up north for his training; he had been a Colour Serjeant in the First War you see, and had been gassed and wounded more than once, though he never spoke of it.  In fact Lou spent his 21st Birthday away with the RAF; he was a few months younger than me. All the men were going off with the forces, so we thought we had better get on with planning our wedding, which eventually took place on 7th March 1942, just before my 22nd Birthday.  

I had planned to wear a costume and use some clothing coupons to buy a new hat; but Mum’s friend Alice Pignon had a daughter who had got married at the start of the war, and she had a lovely white silk dress with a long lace veil and two bridesmaids dresses which she let me borrow. They needed a bit of alteration but not much; I had always been nice and slim, but Elsie’s dress needed a bit of letting out.  Blue they were, with little sprigs, and the local florist got hold of some lovely red roses for the bouquets.  Lou wore his best RAF uniform of course, and the Best Man, his friend Lenny Nicholson wore his Army uniform.  Very smart they looked. 

You would have laughed if it wasn’t so tragic, the men stayed in the local pub a little too long before the wedding, and were in danger of being late.  Lucky for them, the church backed on to some empty bombed-out houses, and they were able to run straight across the gardens and through the wrecked houses to reach the church on time. Good job they did, Lou’s Mum was hopping mad already! St Philips had no roof, because of the bombing, but my two nephews Freddie and Dickie cleaned the pews as best they could – though their white gloves looked none too healthy afterwards!  The wedding cake was chocolate, as white icing was on ration and cost a lot of coupons – if you could get it. Anyway, we had a good old family knees-up, with the upright piano I had saved up for and was very proud of – Lou’s Mum Lil could play well and I could tickle the ivories a bit myself. Lou was sent overseas very soon afterwards, and it was years before I saw him again.

When Lou embarked, they kitted them out in their usual uniforms rather than tropicals so no-one would know where they were going – ‘careless talk costs lives’ they used to say.  They were allowed to send their next of kin a letter to say they were heading overseas, but not let them know their destination. Well Lou put something in his letter about looking forward to a nice fresh apple – and looking on the map me and his Dad worked out he could be on his way to Cox’s Bazaar, a place in India, and this proved to be the case.

Of course I looked forward to his letters, full of love and romance, soppy sod, but never really saying much.  Still it was good to know he was alive and well.  He went to India and Burma, and ended up on Ramree Island, just off Burma.

As a married woman I was annoyed not to be allowed to join the forces; and I ended up first at the anti-attrition and then working on cables in the Siemens munition factory for the duration, making cables.  When we first got married we were living with Lou’s parents Lou and Lil in Rolls Road; but we were bombed out twice and finished up in a small place in Camberwell.  Lou’s sister Ann was a teenager, still living with her parents, so it was a bit crowded but we all got on alright.

Once during the bombing, when we were still living in Peckham, a V bomb destroyed houses in Unwin Road; and there was a direct hit on an Air-Raid shelter.  Three children were killed.  I scrambled over the rubble to try to get them out, but they were already dead.  Terrible it was, and my legs were cut to pieces, I still had the scars til the day I died.   Terrible things we saw. Lou always said us left in London had a much worse war than he did in Burma! Funny enough our Stan’s boy Michael and his wife ended up living in one of the new places built on the ruins of Unwin Road in the sixties.

VE-Day was fun, parties everywhere and dancing in the streets; but those of us with family in the Far East had nothing to celebrate, though the rest of the country seemed to have forgotten we were still at War with the Japs, and many of our forces were holed up in the Far East. No wonder the men were bitter; they felt they were the ‘Forgotten Army’.

In fact it was well into 1946 before Lou got home.  We had been moved as a family to a new council estate in Bellingham SE6.  34 Overdown road it was, a nice corner house with a garden back and front and an inside bathroom and toilet. Luxury! There was me and Lou (when he eventually got back), his Mum and Dad and his sister Ann – and later two American servicemen that were billeted on us. We kept in touch with Hank Kaufmann and his parents for many years, and he named his eldest daughter Linda after my Linda.

When Lou eventually got home many months after the war had ended we had moved so often our letters hadn’t kept up with it and he didn’t know where he lived, so he went to my Mum’s at 354 and John Wigley brought him over to Bellingham on the bus.  We had hung the union jack and bunting on the front of the house months before, not knowing when he’d be back, so once they got near there was no mistaking it.  His Aunts and Uncles and cousin Ann - known as ‘big Annie’ to distinguish her from ‘little Annie’ Dad’s sister, all came round to see him, poor bloke was very thin as he had been very ill with malaria and amoebic hepatitis.  It was touch and go with him for a while in India, but I knew he was alright because he came to me in a dream; it was like he was standing by my bed saying ‘I’m Okay Rosie, sweetheart, I’ll be with you soon’. Of course we had a big party; some people would keep mentioning how yellow Lou looked, very rude I thought.

That was the one time I ever got tiddly, me and little Annie both had to be put to bed, and we couldn’t stop giggling.  I felt so rough in the morning I never really had much to drink ever again, which suited Lou as he had been told that the effects of his illnesses meant alcohol was not good for him.  Despite all the care from his Mum and me, Lou got really ill again and was sent to the Brook Fever Hospital on Shooters Hill. His Dad didn’t want to let him go so soon after getting him back, and held on to him crying ‘Don’t take my boy’. There were a lot of servicemen in there, and he was well enough to come home after a few months, with our family doctor visiting every day.  In fact when our girls were born Doctor Sangster always said they were only there thanks to him! 

Those Japs and Germans have got a lot to answer for.