by Marjorie C.Mercer
Photographs in newspapers of battle weary soldiers. War scenes in newsreels. Uniformed men in the streets. Blackout paper on windows. Complaints about shortages of goods. Ladies knitting khaki socks. These and many more childhood memories spring to mind, despite the passage of years. Like others, we had an air-raid shelter in the backyard, which was really just a deep trench covered by pieces of galvanised iron. Gas masks and tinned food were stored under the house ‘in case of attack’.
Sometime during 1941, my father, a returned soldier from World War I, volunteered as an air-raid warden. We lived in Hill Street and had a yellow plate attached to our front fence with “WARDEN” in black lettering. It was his job to go out at night and check there were no lights in the neighbourhood. Some nights our family would walk to the top of the Duff Street hill and look across to Mascot aerodrome to see the search-lights beam through the sky looking for any enemy aircraft.
With the introduction of ‘Ration books’ for many goods such as tea, butter, sugar, and clothing, I recall going to an allotment of land with tin sheds on it in Bardwell Road, near Shepherd’s Dairy, where my mother queued to receive our ration books. One day I found four butter coupons on the footpath which I took home to my delighted mother. She made a concoction of hot water, gelatine, and butter to make the spread go further. Our friend and near neighbour, Eileen Eardley stated once that as soon as the War was over, she was going to have bread with butter thickly spread on it.
As the manufacture and import of toys ceased, I had some rag dolls, made by my mother and did not have a teddy bear until 1947, as these were imported from England. My father, a carpenter by trade, made many beautiful toys from wood. I still have a child’s table and chair he made one Christmas.
My first school was at Wilson Road in 1942 which comprised as I recall of three school rooms. The playground was thick brown dust in dry weather, and mud in the wet. The Rev. Pitt-Owen came one day a week for Scripture class. Opposite the school on the corner of Fairview Street was Nurse Robinson’s private maternity hospital, where I was born in 1937. My next school was Arncliffe West in Loftus Street which I attended from 1944-5. The school at that time had underground air-raid shelters in the grounds, but fortunately we never had to use them.
Among the shops in Belmore Street, Arncliffe, was Wilson’s ‘The Towel King’ selling ladies wear and haberdashery. A similar store was Clark’s (next to the Commonwealth Bank) which had an overhead wire system to convey sales docket and money in a small container, to a central cashier. Dunstan’s Hardware was next door to Mr Spora the Chemist on the corner. Wollongong Road had many small shops strung along its length. One where we shopped was T.J. McGill the grocer, on the corner of Dowling Street. Remembered also were the ‘clothes-prop’ men and the ‘rabbito’ who came calling. Colourful characters who have long since disappeared from Arncliffe suburban life.
Unless otherwise noted, images are courtesy of the Bayside Library Service Local History Collection.
This article was first published in the March 2003 edition of our magazine.
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