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The best of luck with taking over, I hope it goes well for you. I always enjoy reading the stories but have not contributed. I think your comments "how did it come about/how did you feel/how do you feel now? made me email.Its something that has been with me all my life, or so it seems but I have never discussed it with a living sole. It was all a long time ago, I was what was termed an "evacuee" Children were sent out of London to avoid the bombing at the start of the war. I arrived at a train station in Oxfordshire with others but due to a mix up, did not arrive at the point where we were being allocated until last. Apart from the "Reception Centre Women" only one other person was present, a woman of about 40, so I imagined, expensively dressed, who was what we used to call, in a "a right old strop" evidently she was due to have a girl, she was late, "her" girl had gone with someone else, only I was available, without anywhere to stay. The Reception Staff suggested that she take me and it would be sorted out in the morning by the "Evacuation Area Representative" She escorted me to her car, told me to get in the front with her and then did not speak to me all the way to her house. I had not been away from home before, I was petrified, lonely and completely unsure of what to do.We got to her house, which was detached, stood in its own grounds and even had a tennis court! I was shown into the kitchen, it was dark, she gave me some bread and dripping and a cup of tea, After I finished she told me to go up the stairs, have a wash and go to bed, in the bedroom opposite the bathroom, with a single bed. I did not see her again until the morning. I heard her shouting down the phone about getting this mess sorted out. Nothing happened, I stayed where I was, went to the local school and she left me a list of jobs in the garden, clearing up leaves, cleaning out the gutters etc. She hardly spoke to me. I then did something really silly, I stole half a crown from her purse, she found out and I was in big trouble. She said she would inform the police and my parents, the shame in those days would have been terrible, it would have blighted my life for ever. I started bawling (crying), she said that If I agreed to do everything she said, without question, she would as she put it "Take me in hand" I agreed without hesitation. I was told to go up stairs, run the bath and get in it, after a while she entered to room, wearing rubber gloves and an apron, she then proceeded to wash my hair with something that smelt like disinfectant, I was then told to stand and she roughly washed my orffices. She took my clothes and told me to follow her downstairs to the kitchen, she told me that she had started a "naughty book" and my name, offence, date and time would be entered with the punishment. Christ was I scared. I was made to stand with my back to her, drop my towel and place my hands on the chair in front of me, she said I was going to receive 6 strokes of her cane, I was not particularly scared, I was just 14, I braced myself and she whacked me, not bad but after three wacks, the tears were welling up, like a fool, I said you cannot hurt me and she whacked me harder, not only did I cry like a baby but I could not control myself and I peed myself! It went on the stone kitchen floor. I was mortified. Edwina said to me, because that was her name, wipe it up now and come into the drawing room but wash your hands first. What could I do, I did not have any clothes, no money and was in the middle of nowhere. I meekly made my way to the drawing room. I had to stand in front of her stark naked, trying to cover myself. Edwina said, I am going to make you into a nice person and you will do whatever I tell you and do it when I tell you. She made me put on a pair of "navy knickers" and then a woollen knitted dress, which was very very short, then she gave me a pair of white socks that came up to my knees. She then dismissed me and told me to go and pour her a drink, which I did, when I returned she told me that I was to address her as Madam and not look her in the eye. From then on, I got her breakfast, made her bed, ran her bath, cleaned her car in fact I was her skivvy. If I did everything right during the day, I could sit with her and listen to the radio. I got used to this existence, it was better than being bombed in London and the rationing. The next mistake I made was talking to one of the Land Girls who was on the adjoining farm, she really was cross. My name went in the Naughty Book, I was put across her knee and spanked with her bare hand, again I nearly wet myself and whimpered, I was sent to bed at six o'clock for a week and be at her beck and call constantly. After that experience she called me Miss Whimper. To teach me a lesson, she made me wear a very short green school girls uniform, white short sleeved shirt with school tie, white cotton knickers that showed as the dress was so short and put a lead around my wrist, she them made me walk over, with her to where some of the Land Girls were having a cuppa,God I was embarrassed, she told them that I wet myself had stolen her money and was trying to keep me out of "Borstal" by teaching me a lesson and they could help by ignoring me. They all looked serious and said they would do as she asked. After this, she let me sit on the sofa with her at nights, bathed me once a week which was something I still think about and even get in bed with her, and read the daily paper to her, after I brought her tea in the morning. If I did anything naughty, broke china, got coal dust on the floor it was a ritual spanking, always stark naked, do you know I enjoyed it, she bathed, made to stand in front of her like a baby, again stark naked, whacked me, I nearly always wet myself and cried, she then put me in "knitted woolen" jim jams, took me up to bed, placed woolen mittens on my hands a tied my hands to the bed head. Made me wear a girls bonnet, kissed me good night and left. When I got to 16 towards the end of the war, she made me drink tea with bromide in it, to keep me under control she said. You know I never minded and I still miss it. How strange. John What a great remembrance from the old days, thank you so much for sharing it with us John. Proves our point that Petticoat Discipline is a old fashioned way to control naughty boys and men. Auntie Helga |