FIRST PERSON: Newbridge Memo stalwart Barbara Bevan on how the Blitz led her to the valleys

"I was born Barbara Freeman in Queen Charlotte’s hospital, Marylebone on October 19, 1938.

I was a year old when the Second World War was declared and of course seven by the time my dad, George, came back.

I was lucky that I did see him at points near the start, as he was stationed at various places in the UK during the war. I know he was involved making cement tank traps and he eventually had an embarkation leave which took him abroad.

My parents were both 24 when the war started and my father was the right age to be called up for the war. When he went abroad I didn’t see him for about three years and being so young I forgot what he looked like.

He was a Lance Corporal in the Royal Engineers and went through Italy, North Africa, Palestine and ended up in Greece.

Before the war, my mum Rose (nee Watson) and my dad set up home in Cheam, Surrey. After my dad went off to war, everything at first was a bit quiet and the bombs didn’t start for the first year, I was too little to remember too much of that.

But when they did start the bombing, and I remember spending a lot of time in the shelters as a child.

One of them was called the Anderson shelter in my father’s parents’ home nearby, there was a sport field at the back and they had these big ack-ack guns, it was so terrifying. The vibrations would make you shake.

Quite a few times during the war my mum would think the bombing got too bad in London, so she would take me back to her family in Newbridge where my grandmother lived.

My mum was born in Penner Street, Newbridge and went up to London looking for work, where she met my dad, who was born in Bermondsey, East London but living in Morden.

If the Blitz eased off, my mum would think that we could go back up there. Then if it came on really bad again we would be back in a shelter or go to Wales.

It did affect my schooling and I never really enjoyed school growing up. I went to Tynewydd Primary School briefly, then Chatsworth Road school before Nonsuch Grammar School, but moving schools didn’t do me any good and I left school at 15.

During the war, I remember going on the underground and seeing all the people laying out their beds on the Bakerloo Line as we went up to Paddington and changed at Waterloo. This one day, we were on a train and there was an aeroplane down on the line so we couldn’t get away.

Because we couldn’t get away, we then had to come back and these poor people were preparing themselves in the underground. But the smell of it, it was awful for them people. For what they went through, they were amazing people but it was awful to see.

Me and my mum were lucky as we had a place to go out of London and I was always overwhelmed when we came back to Newbridge and the warmth, welcome and love that there was in my grandmother's house.

Two of my uncles were miners, who of course were not sent to the war and the house was overcrowded with aunts and uncles.

In this house, which belonged to my gran after her husband, my grandfather, Bernard Watson, died in the 1914-1918 war. His name is on the memorial list at the Memo.

In that small Coal Board house, which was a three bedroom cottage, we had around nine or ten of us there.

In our little bedroom was my grandmother, mum and me. We used to all pile into this bed. My two aunts, their husbands and my cousins were in the other bedrooms.

At one time my aunt Betty was staying there as well, so if it got really overcrowded, there were other people in Newbridge who used to put me and mum up.

My grandmother was wonderful, because if she was fed up with it, she never said so. Me and my mum had to wait for our rations to come through when we first moved down and until they did, all the family would share out theirs.

My two uncles, if there was daylight after their shifts in the pits, they would keep an allotment with chickens and that would help keep us going. They were fantastic.

I loved it, and I felt engulfed in the warmth of that family who had nothing, they had absolutely nothing and that went on through the rest of Newbridge.

On Grove Street nearby, is where my grandfather’s brothers settled, so if numbers got high then people would stay with each other and never a door was locked, there was always such a big welcome were ever you went in.

It was such a lovely atmosphere, my mum and her sisters would be singing and harmonising whilst doing the washing.

That’s when my mum also first took me to the Newbridge Memo, we would see the films with actresses such as Betty Grable. There was no TV in those days, so we would go to the pictures a lot. It would hosts parties such as at Christmas, and as a kid it seemed magical.

Uncle Wilf, at one time he was working at an aluminium factory in Rogerstone, which is where my mum went to work and my aunties would look after me.

My uncle gave me a ticket to this Christmas party at the Memo and I remember being enthralled.

People can’t imagine, there was no street light, we had the black-out with everything dull and dreary. So to go this Christmas party, with a Father Christmas and bright lights was absolutely wonderful.

Me and my mum went from pillar to post during the war but she nor the Watson family of Newbridge, never left me. I used to get upset about my daddy being gone and for a little girl it was scary but my mum would always say, ‘he’s fighting these horrible people that are bombing us’.

My dad sent me a Greek doll in the image of the guards during the war, but he never ever spoke about the war when he was back.

When he returned I couldn’t remember what he looked like and ran up to the wrong soldier thinking that was my dad, which must have given him a fright.

When it ended, we went back to Priory Road, North Cheam with my mum getting some furnished rooms for my dad to come home to.

We had the downstairs of the building with a different family upstairs, it was one knock for us, two for them. Then we moved to a pre-fab in Carshalton.

During my school holidays I would make a beeline to come back to Wales and spend holidays with my aunty Aida. She was like a second mother and it was through coming up to stay with her, and going dancing at The Memo that I met my future husband Lyndon. So I have always felt this connection to The Memo.

We had two children and I became a member of Newbridge and District Ladies Choir for 28 years until last year. I joined though my Lyndon’s sister, Olive Garland, who had a wonderful voice.

Then about 14 years ago we did a choir session at The Memo. When we were there none of us could believe the state it had got in and there was talk of it being pulled down for a car park.

We thought we couldn’t allow this to happen to our Memo.

Me and a couple of others set up a petition and to speak to Don Touhig, nothing political but he just happened to be the president of our choir.

We went to his constituency office, and he was so helpful from the word go. We distributed leaflets and knocked on doors, the help we received was just amazing.

We had a public meeting in the Memo with the one remaining trustee at the time, Mel Spears. He had kept the insurance going and was really struggling as it had turned into a sort of drinking club.

At the meeting, we had to turn people away. There was well over 300 people there and it was packed out. We then formed a committee and I ended up on it and have been involved ever since. Howard Stone become the chair of the Friends of Newbridge Memo committee then and he worked his socks off.

We got pipped at the post on the BBC show ' Restoration' with Griff Rhys Jones in 2004 but raised the money ourselves then after 10 years of work, costing millions, had the official reopening with Prince Charles.

At that time, my mum had come to stay with me and Lyndon before she passed away and she couldn’t stop telling people that I had spoken to His Royal Highness at the ceremony.

Now for the last couple of years I have been the chair of the trustees, and divide my time between that, looking after my husband and seeing my grandsons Rhys and Hayden.