The reminiscences here cover life during World War II and are grouped around themes. The contributors were all young then, and some had traumatic and memorable events in their lives at this time. They also, however, recall how they enjoyed themselves, as well as simple things in everyday life, including shopping, describing the large number of shops in the village in those days. The memories are remarkably detailed – these were difficult times for the contributors, and their lives at this time have been recollected with considerable clarity.

The contributors have real affection for Withington as it was - an affection that comes over well in these extracts. To many of you reading this, the life depicted may be a surprise, but to others, memories may be stirred!

The facts in these memoirs have not been checked elsewhere. The purpose of the project is to reproduce interviewees own recollections of their past.

If you, or anyone you know, have memories you would like to share, please contact Withington Civic Society.

The Oral History Archive, available from the Withington Civic Society website (www.withingtoncivicsociety.org.uk), contains a larger collection of memoirs, going back to the early 20th century, including full versions of those included in this book.

Withington in World War II

This book brings together five people's recollections of life during the Second World War. The interviewees are identified by their initials, as some have asked for their names not to be made public.

The memoirs are arranged into four sections:

• The Blitz,
• Having a good time,
• Shopping,
• Other memories.

1. The Blitz

Our respondents were all young during the war, ranging in age from three to twenty when the war started. They all have vivid memories of the bombing, especially of the Manchester 'Blitz', 1940-1941.

GB was living on Cotton Lane:

'I was only about 4 and I remember, during the war, when there was an air-raid, my father used to come up to my bedroom and carry me down outside into the air-raid shelter. It was particularly fierce the bombing one night and there was this terrific explosion which we heard. My mother was very distressed because she thought it was so loud that it must have been our house which was bombed. When the all-clear siren went off next morning, my father went out of the shelter - it was underground and there were steps down and steps out - and I remember him saying 'It's alright love, the house is still here'. We found out it was a house on Parkville Road and also a house on Arnfield Road, number 4, which was occupied by people called Gadsby. They were in the shelter and they were not harmed. I don't know what happened to the people in the Parkville Road house which was bombed. I don't know whether they were killed or not.'

BK recalled the night of 22nd/23rd December 1940, 'not a good memory but one that will live with me forever’:

'At that time, I was a schoolgirl and lived with my mother and father at 12, Westcroft Road, which joins Kingsway to Parrs Wood Road at the Fog Lane Park entrance. My older brother George also lived there, but he worked away all week in Audlem, near Nantwich, coming home on his bike for just one night at the weekend.

That evening began like many others, with the horrible wailing sound of the siren. My parents had decided months before that we would join with the Potter family, who lived at No. 10, going in their shelter one raid and in ours the next. Mr. Potter was the A.R.P. warden for the area and there was his wife, Audrey, his five-year old, Frank (17) and Irene (20), a lovely tall slim blonde who I had the most awful 'crush' on! We three made our way to their shelter. Audrey and her dad were already there. Mr. Potter told us Irene had been in bed for the past few days suffering from the 'flu and thought it better to stay in bed. Her Mum insisted on staying with her, and Frank had said 'If she's not going out, I'm not.'

There were lots of planes going over and sounds of flak falling. Mr. Potter did his rounds of the area and told us it looked as if Manchester was being targeted. He then joined us for drinks and eats. It was very noisy and we had been told they were probably after the railcars close by. Then a louder bang than usual and more bricks flying and still planes going over. When the noise subsided somewhat, we opened the shelter door. I shall never forget the view. Instead of seeing the back of the Potter's house, we could see right up Mossbray Avenue opposite. Stupidly, I couldn't take it in at first. Mr. Potter, Dad and I climbed out. Audrey was asleep on my Mum's lap. I was soon sent back into the shelter, my Dad soon after. Mr. Potter, along with many searchers, continued. They later came back to tell us the dreadful news. It had been a direct hit so the blast was contained in the two semis. The Potters must have been killed outright, and also the old couple next door. The Potter's house had fallen sideways onto ours.

We didn't know at this time that George, my brother, had arrived on his bike from Cheshire a short while before. He was not allowed down Westcroft but could see what had happened from the corner, and was told that there were two houses down and five dead. He was directed back down Brayside, along Parrs Wood Road to the park entrance, and went to 21 Westcroft to his good friend's house. They had no more news than he had. When the "All Clear' went, we were allowed out of the shelter but told not to go in our house - we couldn't get in anyway. Neighbours offered us room for the night but we went across to No. 21, Mary's house, where my brother was waiting for news. He was almost incoherent when he saw us and we were exhausted. We were given drinks of tea with whisky, which Mum and I thought revolting. The calmest person was Audrey and I couldn't believe how resilient she was, both then and in the days following. She and her Dad went to friends in Burnage.

We didn't sleep much of course, not really believing what had happened. Next morning we were allowed into our house very briefly, to collect a few clothes and essentials, but were told we couldn't sleep there until it was safe to do so - a couple of weeks later. Even then we had to sleep downstairs for ages. The Potter's things were scattered far and wide, and I was horrified to see Irene's diaries with pages scattered everywhere. A friend and I spent hours collecting and burning them. I had admired her so much and couldn't bear to think of her private life being on display. It was then I decided to stop keeping my own diary, which I had done since learning to write. I still hate the sound of a plane flying low.'

FS sent her memories of this time, after seeing other memoirs on the Withington Civic Society website:

‘In 1940, we were bombed out of our little terraced house in Morris Street. It was just before Christmas and my father had been called up and was due to leave. He had decorated the house for us - “us” being Mother, my sister Amelia who was six years old, and myself, aged three. Dad said we would be OK if we did not go into the shelter that night, as he did not think the raid would be too bad. Unfortunately, a bomb was dropped on the back garden of the end house in Moorfield Street. The shelter was in the centre of Morris Street, and our house was directly opposite the said back garden. I believe we were reported missing and our names were posted on the wall. My aunt and cousin believed us to be dead and, of course, were deeply shocked and upset.

We shared a back entry with the row of shops on Cooper (now Copson) Street and Mrs. Read, who owned the grocer's shop, had very kindly taken us in. Three months later, my beautiful sister contracted diphtheria and died."

KM remembers the war very well:

'I remember all the bombs dropping, and I remember there was a big land mine dropped on St. Paul's, but fortunately it didn't go off. It got caught in a tree, so it saved us all, you know. Round the corner from where we lived (Norden Avenue), an air-raid shelter was bombed, and four men were killed.

I remember going to a wedding. I think it must have been over in Urmston or somewhere, but anyhow coming back there were no buses and my sister and I had to walk. We were coming down Mauldeth Road and all these bombs were going off. It was terrifying! I was absolutely terrified. Somebody told us we'd have to go into a shelter, which we did for a while, but then I wanted to go home. Fortunately, we got home safely. My younger brother used to get up every morning and search round the garden for shrapnel that had dropped from the bombs and he used to take it to school and see who'd got the biggest piece.'

AW was an ARP (Air Raid Precautions) warden and recorded his memories in the 1970s:

'At approximately 10.30 p.m. on January 1st, 1941, Withington was alerted by the Air Raid warning siren and all the Wardens' Service sprang into action. About 15 minutes later there was a terrific explosion from the direction of Burton Road. A Mr. Armitage of Arnfield Road reported to the officer in charge at the Wardens' Headquarters in Heaton Road that he had seen two parachute mines coming down over Withington, and that one had exploded but the other had not. The one that failed to explode seemed to pass over St. Paul's Church but he was not certain where it had landed. An immediate alarm was put out from Headquarters and all available wardens, police and firemen searched for the missing mine but unfortunately it was undiscovered.

Alas, the mine that did explode killed five wardens who had assembled at their meeting post on Burton Road. The mine dropped almost on top of them. Amongst the men who were killed were Mr. Barber, a popular dentist in Withington, and a Mr. Lobb, who was a master at Manchester Grammar School. I regret that I cannot remember the names of the other unfortunate victims.

About 2.20 a.m. the next morning, Wardens' Headquarters received an agitated phone call from a lady who said she was the vicar's wife, and that something terrible was lying in her garden. An immediate investigation proved it was the missing mine, but it had landed in the soft soil by the vicarage front steps and fortunately had failed to explode. The bomb disposal squad was immediately informed, and later that morning a naval officer of the disposal squad rendered the bomb harmless. It was about six foot high and three foot wide, a very terrifying sight to set eyes on, and a great relief to us all at Headquarters when it was finally removed.'

2. Having a good time

During the war, life was not all misery. People went out dancing, took picnics to the parks, went walking and, especially, went to the pictures. In Withington, there was the Scala, later Cine City (now demolished), and the Palatine Picture House.....

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