One of many to come over from England during the 1950s and 1960s, we loved this lady's frank account of life in both places. With thanks to Stockland.
I was born on my mother’s birthday. As she was in the labour ward she told the nurses ‘I don’t want it til tomorrow, I don’t want it til tomorrow!’.
I was near Croydon, Surrey, through the war. Even though I was only three or four years old, I used to dance with the soldiers. Also, I was shot at. I was playing in the garden up near the gate, and a German bomber had dropped its bombs and was coming back and an air raid warden grabbed me and shoved me behind a fence.
Generally, we wondered around everywhere and it was just a question of ‘if you hear a siren, jump in a ditch’.
My dad was in the regular army. Wherever he was, he’d correspond with me by postcards with camels on them. I was very fond of camels. Dad spent a lot of time in the Middle East and Burma and had malaria as a result. He also had shot tendons in the back of his legs. They used to play up in the winter so the doctor advised him to move to a warmer climate, so we came to Australia in 1952 and stayed at a camp in Midland.
One day a truck meant for Midland abattoirs broke down and about six big pigs came running through the door of the dry cleaners where I worked. And that wasn’t unusual. There were often animals running around.
At that time, if you went to Perth you got dressed up – hat, gloves, stockings. But once I met my husband I didn’t really want to go anywhere else.
The one piece of advice I can give is something that my husband and I always used to say; ‘if you want to do it, do it. Don’t put it off.’