Riding the rails!
Gwyneth M Lowe recalls the delights and the dangers of wartime train travel
Paddington Station… the steam and smoke rising to the roof, the shrill whistle and the sound of the wheels as the train leaves the station. A journey – who will I meet? What will I see? Even after all these years, I still get that feeling of anticipation and excitement. The Second World War was declared just as I was starting school and my parents decided I would be safer with Mum’s family in South Wales than in Dagenham in London. This could not have been the first time I made this particular journey, but it is the one I remember. We were always dressed up for the trip and as the journey was a long one, Mum took sandwiches wrapped in a clean tea towel. First stop Reading and then through the Severn Tunnel, where my imagination ran riot thinking of the waters of the Severn rolling above our heads. After the next stop, Newport, Mum tidied us, pulling up socks, wiped faces and then let down the window using the leather strap. Auntie Maggie and Uncle Dai’s garden backed on to the mainline. Together with neighbours they all gathered against the railings at the bottom of the garden to wave and cheer as the train carried us towards the mainline station. Then they returned indoors to prepare a meal for our arrival. That night, snug and comfortable in the back bedroom in warm flannelette sheets, I was lulled to sleep listening to the signals rise and fall and the trains whistle past. The following day we travelled up the valley to Merthyr to my grandmother’s house by the side of the River Taff and it was the sound of the river that lulled us to sleep. We made this journey time after time during the war, returning to London when there was a lull in
‘All through the Blitz we saw the sky turn red as the East End burned’
the bombing and, always it seemed, mistiming it – we were in Dagenham all through the London Blitz and could see the sky turn red as the East End burned. As children we knew no other way of life – it was our parents who must have suffered. Before I left school I was capable of making the journey alone and on one such journey was delighted when a lady asked if I would mind her little dog while she went to the restaurant car. I love dogs and I thought she must be posh or rich going to the restaurant car. On her return to the compartment she cooed ‘look what I’ve brought you…’ holding out a small tub of ice cream. Before I could express my thanks she started feeding it to the dog! Posh or rich, she sank in my estimation at that moment. One memory is of the train being brought to a halt outside London late one night because a heavy raid was in progress – I don’t know why we were travelling so late. The train was blacked out and crowded, and no one spoke. I held my breath wondering if the fireman and the driver had managed to extinguish the fire, believing that the German planes would strafe the train if they found us. When the all-clear sounded, the small blue lights came on and the young soldier who had been hunkered down with his back
to the door stood up and stretched. He reached into his tunic pocket and brought out two small squares of red and gold-wrapped Nestlé chocolate and handed them to me. My mother thanked him and nodded to me that I could accept. No one who hasn’t been deprived of sweets and chocolate can appreciate the generosity of this gesture. I don’t know where he was going, or who he was, but I hope fate was kind to him. Journeys made later in my life to Wales and Cornwall, or Hampshire have introduced me to many interesting travelling companions… The young woman all piercings and tattoos with whom I discussed cake recipes and kitchen equipment! The American couple telling their little boy: ‘Gee this lady remembers the war’, I felt like a dinosaur, but he was thrilled and I learned of his interest in old aircraft – he was very knowledgeable for one so young. Yes, my journeys have changed now. They are quicker; there are armed police on the station. I have to book for ‘assistance’, but that won’t stop me enjoying travelling by train!
‘As children we knew no other way of life – it was our parents who suffered’