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A Wartime Childhood
at Boxfields Maureen Nixon (now Oatley) October 2015 Maureen moved from Bath to Boxfields when she was three years old and lived there for over a decade. She tells of her life in the prefabricated houses and of her memories of being a child during the Second World War. It is an age now completely disappeared with rationing of food and clothes, corrugated air raid shelters built in the garden, blackout curtains at the windows every night and constant military activity in the air and on the roads. Like all children she was in ignorance of the worst of these events and her story is one that we can all appreciate from our own experience. All photos courtesy Maureen Oatley. |
Maureen posing outside the Bingham Hall before a Revue/Show
by the “Edwina Brunt Dance School” in the 1950s.
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Early Years at Boxfields
My earliest recollection of Boxfields was hanging on to the school fence, crying, because I was not old enough to attend school.
I had attended a nursery school in Bath prior to my family moving out to Boxfields, and I felt it was not fair that Malcolm, my brother and two years older, was allowed in and I wasn't!
However, the following year passed quickly and I was enrolled in the infants, with Mrs Geldhart as my teacher. Other teachers
I remember were Miss Clarke, who married another teacher, Mr Thomsett, Mrs Starosta (who seemed to me as a child to be very severe) and the headteacher, Mr Warburton. School then was very outdoor-orientated with lots of sport; netball and athletics were my favourites, and outside nature lessons in the nearby Box Wood, The Tumps and the fields around the school. The boys also had gardening lessons, probably while the girls were sewing or such like.
My earliest recollection of Boxfields was hanging on to the school fence, crying, because I was not old enough to attend school.
I had attended a nursery school in Bath prior to my family moving out to Boxfields, and I felt it was not fair that Malcolm, my brother and two years older, was allowed in and I wasn't!
However, the following year passed quickly and I was enrolled in the infants, with Mrs Geldhart as my teacher. Other teachers
I remember were Miss Clarke, who married another teacher, Mr Thomsett, Mrs Starosta (who seemed to me as a child to be very severe) and the headteacher, Mr Warburton. School then was very outdoor-orientated with lots of sport; netball and athletics were my favourites, and outside nature lessons in the nearby Box Wood, The Tumps and the fields around the school. The boys also had gardening lessons, probably while the girls were sewing or such like.
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My father Tom had been invalided out of the army with a duodenal ulcer and we moved to Boxfields from Bath. He was pretty poorly and took a long time to completely recover.
We had a large corner garden, which he loved to cultivate and as he got stronger also cultivated two allotments. At the back of the bungalow he kept chickens, boiling up potato peelings to make mash with meal to feed them. We also had a share in a pig, kept in Quarry Woods, to which we contributed other food waste. I assume, as he could not work at that time, that he had an army pension of some kind, supplemented by mum, (Maudie), having three part-time jobs! Dad was an original house husband. Living conditions were much harsher than in modern times. The bungalow we lived in was cold and we could never get the back boiler to work properly. When my mother tried to cook on the stove it would blow back smoke into the kitchen.We soon obtained an electric two-ring oven which was more reliable. Our heating came from the open fire in the living room, which was mostly cosy, but the corridors and bedrooms, all with cold slippery tiles, were freezing in the winter months. Left: My father Tom in the garden of our prefab |
Any beds pushed up against the walls soon got damp and wallpaper that Mum put up – using flour and water paste - became mouldy within a week or so, so she Charmed the wallpaper with an emulsion paint by that name. When that failed she scraped it all off and painted with gloss paint. She was determined to make our home as nice as it could be.
We were never short of food, thanks to Dad’s efforts in the garden and allotments, so vegetables were plentiful, and eggs from our chickens. Sometimes even a little bacon ! Flour wasn't rationed even in the worst time of the war and dad made a mean suet pudding.
We were never short of food, thanks to Dad’s efforts in the garden and allotments, so vegetables were plentiful, and eggs from our chickens. Sometimes even a little bacon ! Flour wasn't rationed even in the worst time of the war and dad made a mean suet pudding.
Childhood Play at Boxfields
Children can always make their own fun, and we were allowed a lot of freedom to run and roam the fields and woods around us, unhampered by parental supervision. I have nothing but happy memories of that time and I am glad that my parents were mostly unaware of the sometimes quite dangerous things we got up to. Tree climbing was popular, exploring the caves (not for me !) and, in the summer, swimming in Box Brook. In my selective memory, the summers were always hot and we ran everywhere, for miles and miles, going home only for meals and bed! Perfect !
Children can always make their own fun, and we were allowed a lot of freedom to run and roam the fields and woods around us, unhampered by parental supervision. I have nothing but happy memories of that time and I am glad that my parents were mostly unaware of the sometimes quite dangerous things we got up to. Tree climbing was popular, exploring the caves (not for me !) and, in the summer, swimming in Box Brook. In my selective memory, the summers were always hot and we ran everywhere, for miles and miles, going home only for meals and bed! Perfect !
One of the few troubling times I can recall was walking home with some friends one night from Box Church. We were passing Box Woods and encountered several drunken men, walking in the opposite direction who tried to block us off. Being the eldest I felt somewhat responsible so I swung my handbag and hit one and we all ran like mad up the hill !
Winters were quite different, broken only by Bonfire Night, Christmas and the parties that the Navy, Army and Airforce gave for us children. You usually had to have a connection to get a ticket and we were fortunate that mum cleaned for an officer's wife in the airforce, made sandwiches in the canteen for the navy and dad had been invalided out of the army! We kids were made!
Dad with Jim and Pauline, sitting on a rabbit run in the garden.
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Thinking back now, with hindsight and more understanding, times must have been hard for the women who were bringing up families on their own, husbands having been conscripted or even killed in the war.
Most of them worked, as my mum did, to supplement the small army pay and pensions. I know that presents at Christmas and on birthdays were hard to come by, mostly handmade and greatly appreciated. My parents would make them over the preceding months and hide them in the wardrobe, which we investigated long before December. |
The war somehow seemed to pass us children by, living as we did in childhood bliss in rural Wiltshire. But there were constant reminders of the war all around us. There was an air-raid shelter above our garden which was never used for its intended purpose but was very useful as storage for chicken feed, potatoes, carrots etc.
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I was seven when the war ended, and we had lively celebrations in the big field beyond The Tumps. I was well acquainted with that area as dad had an allotment just beyond, and we kids (we had Pauline and Jim now) picnicked, played and generally had fun there while dad worked and kept an eye out for us.
The field also doubled up as a football pitch, greyhound racing circuit on occasion, and community outdoor space for sports and fun events. Mum shocked us kids when she took part in a comic football match with the other mums and actually showed her (long) knickers! Oh, the shame of it ! |
Pic at seaside on a day’s outing to Weston: left to right: Back: Joy Maton, Maureen, Malcolm; Front: dad, mum, Jim: Foreground: the back of Pauline’s head.
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Children are keen on challenging others to do dares. One I stupidly responded to was walking across the parapet of Box Tunnel.
I was afraid of heights but was determined to do it, edging along and holding on to the stone balusters. All went well until I got to a section where the frost had damaged the projecting slab I was walking on, but I held my breath, stepped over and managed to get to safety. Never again !
I was afraid of heights but was determined to do it, edging along and holding on to the stone balusters. All went well until I got to a section where the frost had damaged the projecting slab I was walking on, but I held my breath, stepped over and managed to get to safety. Never again !
The Corsham Traders shop was pretty comprehensive, a butchers at one end, groceries in the middle and a drapery bit at the far end. We hardly used it, mum being a very loyal customer of the Co-op (and dividends), and it mostly fell to me to take our four-wheel trolley to either Box or Westwells Co-op each week, often with one or other of the younger ones in the back. Now that was hard work, a hill either way coming back, laden with both groceries and a sibling. I remember it well !
Growing Up
As we got older our tastes in entertainment changed, racing around and climbing trees no longer held such appeal. We were growing up! The cinema, only occasionally visited with mum and dad when younger, suddenly became a magnet. The film stars, oh such glamour and clothes, were spellbinding to us country kids, brought up on simple pleasures. My brother Malcolm stayed on at Box Highlands School until he was 15. He got a job helping the butcher, Mr Dark, at the Corsham Traders' Shop after school and on Saturdays, and got complimentary cinema tickets as a perk. The cinema was at Westwells (now Stephens Plastics). During the show we could get a synthetic processed cheese scrape on a slice of bread (delicious) from the canteen, which we ate whilst watching the film.
Growing Up
As we got older our tastes in entertainment changed, racing around and climbing trees no longer held such appeal. We were growing up! The cinema, only occasionally visited with mum and dad when younger, suddenly became a magnet. The film stars, oh such glamour and clothes, were spellbinding to us country kids, brought up on simple pleasures. My brother Malcolm stayed on at Box Highlands School until he was 15. He got a job helping the butcher, Mr Dark, at the Corsham Traders' Shop after school and on Saturdays, and got complimentary cinema tickets as a perk. The cinema was at Westwells (now Stephens Plastics). During the show we could get a synthetic processed cheese scrape on a slice of bread (delicious) from the canteen, which we ate whilst watching the film.
We earned pocket money by picking rose hips, which the District Nurse bought, paying 6d for a full jar. In the NAAFI (Navy, Army and Air Force Institute) shop they sold chewing gum, barley sugar and a few different kinds of sweets. At Maynards, the shop opposite the Rising Sun pub, you could buy licorice roots to suck and sherbet straws. Happy days!
Football match at the end of war celebrations: mum is sitting, crosslegged, first left.
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Malcolm and I, and later Pauline and Jim, attended the Methodist Chapel at Boxfields because they had a Sunday School and I suppose our parents thought it was good for us; there were many Catholics at Boxfields and they went to the Catholic Church at Pickwick, formerly a school.
At the Sunday School there was an annual book prize for the child with the best attendance, which was always won by the daughter of the Superintendent ! I was desperate to win this prize and one year I managed to attend every Sunday, even having my attendance card stamped whilst on holiday at my gran’s house in Devon. That year the attendance prize was abolished. |
In my childish disappointment, I left the Chapel and joined the Box Church Choir and was later confirmed there.
Teenage Years
In my teenage years, the Community Centre was a huge draw. The weekly dances, when the surrounding military bases turned out young National Service men in their hundreds, ensured that any female who could dance was never short of a partner. I used to go, sometimes in my school uniform and ankle socks, and would dance all evening, or until my dad came to fetch me, always too soon for me! I learned to bop there and because I was young and small, my partners used to throw me up in the air.
Terrific fun.
Teenage Years
In my teenage years, the Community Centre was a huge draw. The weekly dances, when the surrounding military bases turned out young National Service men in their hundreds, ensured that any female who could dance was never short of a partner. I used to go, sometimes in my school uniform and ankle socks, and would dance all evening, or until my dad came to fetch me, always too soon for me! I learned to bop there and because I was young and small, my partners used to throw me up in the air.
Terrific fun.
I passed the eleven plus exam at 11 years of age and opted to go to the City of Bath Girls’ Grammar School. I remember the return fare to Bath was 7d return, but being Out of County I had a bus pass from Monday to Friday. I caught the bus at Thornypits because it was closer for me than Hawthorn Fiveways. At that time there were enough passengers to warrant two double-decker buses to Bath, followed by a relief bus, a few minutes later. I was always late but Ken Edgell, who lived over the road, always waited, grabbed my satchel and we ran like mad ! I think he was an Out of County pupil also at Bath Technical College. Because of the bus timetable I never attended school assembly – I was a country scholar.
At school we each had a numbered hook on which to hang our coats, a long bench below and a metal shelf lower again. This meant we had to carry all our books, sports gear etc. for the whole day. The worst day was when we had domestic science lessons and had to carry our ingredients, and then whatever we had cooked, as well.
At school we each had a numbered hook on which to hang our coats, a long bench below and a metal shelf lower again. This meant we had to carry all our books, sports gear etc. for the whole day. The worst day was when we had domestic science lessons and had to carry our ingredients, and then whatever we had cooked, as well.
The years after the war witnessed huge desire for social changes in Britain led by the Labour Party to raise standards for working class people. This picture is dated 1950.
Leaving Boxfields
We moved to Neston when I was 15 and so lost touch with many of my early childhood friends, except those who travelled on the bus to Bath each day for school.
I didn't want to write a year by year account of my childhood but just a brief overview of events that came to mind. I am sure some of my recollections will strike a chord with others and perhaps they can add to the story. I look forward to reading their accounts.
We moved to Neston when I was 15 and so lost touch with many of my early childhood friends, except those who travelled on the bus to Bath each day for school.
I didn't want to write a year by year account of my childhood but just a brief overview of events that came to mind. I am sure some of my recollections will strike a chord with others and perhaps they can add to the story. I look forward to reading their accounts.
Maureen would love to hear from you if you recall the wartime in Box and particularly at Boxfields.
Also, we are looking for more stories about life in Box during the Second World War as we are going to tell the history of that period in a future series. Can you help us please?
You can contact Maureen and us via the Contact tab.
Also, we are looking for more stories about life in Box during the Second World War as we are going to tell the history of that period in a future series. Can you help us please?
You can contact Maureen and us via the Contact tab.