EXAMINER reader John Senior has penned this poem in memory of his parents.
They wed in June 1944 and both worked for the war effort.
John, 67, of Netherthong – who has a younger brother, Richard – said: “My parents were Alec and Gladys Senior and they lived most of their married life at Hoylandswaine.
“During the war dad was a colliery deputy in Hoylandswaine and in the Home Guard and mum was a signalwoman on sidings at Dunford Bridge.’’
The poem is about the often forgotten people of World War Two – the women left behind at home and those who worked down the mines.
Wartime Brides
Railway ladies, they called them ‘Janes’
Wartime jobs to run the trains
Porters, guards and signal girls
Uniforms and hair in curls
Wartime brides and service wives
Perhaps alone to live their lives
With husbands, lovers in faraway places
Or working shifts in reserved occupations
Miners, steel men, mills and farms
Or in the Forces bearing arms
To keep us all safe from the foe
No exception, all had to go
Gladys Senior, donned boots and socks
Walked through the fields to the signal box
Climbed up the stairs to the warm inside
Doris Kaye, an army bride
Waiting for relief, then home to bed
Afternoon shift over, time to lay her head
Dreaming of Jack in Northern France
D-Day landings and not much chance
To write home to his wife worried and waiting
For the conflict to end and war abating
Reading his letters and wishing he’d be free
Safe and sound back home to stay
Gladys, busy with bells and levers
A part of the shunting yard’s endeavours
To put together trains of bombs
Ammo, vehicles, guns and tons
Of military gear
Off to the airfields, docks and boats
To feed the force’s hungry throats
The siren sounds, enemy planes are due
Black-out checks by the sidings crew
A bomber’s moon and silver rails
To guide enemy pilots to the Sheffield mills
If only they knew of the cargoes here
No-one admits a little fear
The all-clear sounds, and back to the job
Gladys, Norman, Harold, Bob
Between the bells she’ll think of Alec
In his bed up in the attic
Though they’re wed, still live with mum
To get to work would have to come
Too many miles for wartime ration
No petrol coupons for commuter travel
But come the weekend and time’s their own
For a married couple, though in other’s homes
Doing up the cottage as time permits
Near Alec’s work down at the pits
Once war is over then we’ll be
At last a proper family
Try for a baby in the summertime
Forget the war, get on with life.