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This story was submitted to the People's War site by a volunteer from ³ÉÈË¿ìÊÖ London CSV Action Desk on behalf of Iona Gordon and has been added to the site with his or her persmission. Iona Gordon fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

I was 11 years old on the morning that war was declared. I was recently reminded by someone who was also there at the time, refreshing my memory of a peculiar occurrence: Just shortly after the declaration of war the pheasants residing in the nearby woods gave an alarm call at 11am. The timing was very poignant.

I think I was quite disappointed because with the onset of war there was little excitement.

Since we lived on a farm we were not terribly bothered with rationing — so I did not experience the effects it had other than when I was at school — cold meat and stodgy pudding, and especially bitter damson plum jam stick in my memory. I haven’t eaten jam since!

In fact because of the fresh produce at hand the family even offered villagers butter and milk, but were refused unless the offer was made permanent!

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