Memories of Maisie Lambert

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Maisie Lambert was born in 1923. Living in Greenwich, she left school at the age of 14 in 1937 and then was employed in a succession of grim factory jobs until at the age of 18 she enlisted into the ATS. This took her out of the war zone that was around the south London docks and into the countryside of Wales and Cornwall. Like many in Maisie’s social position, this was the first time that good food and bathing became part of her daily life. After marrying her husband in 1944, she returned to London and bomb-damaged Greenwich. Whilst living in unsatisfactory accommodation, she was offered a choice of houses in either Charlton or Harold Hill, from which, of course, she chose Harold Hill. Moving to the new estate in 1953, she was the first occupant on her street, Woodbridge Lane. Although bringing up five children who have all gone on to lead successful lives, Maisie still feels resentment about having to leave her family in Greenwich.

‘I had six other brothers and sisters and at one point there were seven of us all sleeping in the one bed. The walls were alive with bugs. There was no kitchen, just a stove that my mum tried to cook upon. There was no hot or cold running water, and for a bath we used to have to go to the local bathhouse once a week. We weren’t brought up to wash, we would only just use a flannel to wash our face, hands and private parts. That’s not to say we weren’t brought up to be proud and to stand tall. There was no garden to put the washing so my mother placed a line across the room downstairs, and every evening there would be wet and dripping washing in the house to make sure that we had clean clothes for school the next day. If one of my shoes had a hole in the sole, then my dad would still spend time polishing the rest of the shoe despite there being a hole in the bottom.

My father had terrible problems finding work during the Depression, and so myself, as well as my other brothers and sisters, were put into a children’s home for about a year. In fact, one of my elder brothers stayed in a home until he was fourteen. It was an awful time, really awful.
I had a lot of problems at school as well because I had bad eyesight and there was no possibility then of getting glasses, so I left school unable to read or write. Since then I’ve taught myself to read, but my spelling is still really bad.

What we were taught at school was household duties, such as how to iron, how to cook, that sort of thing. Because they expected us to be wives and mothers – that was the only option in their eyes. But after leaving school at 14 I worked in factories pressing labels onto sacks, making tins, really horrid work. All we were was factory fodder.

They were real hard times, and I always said to myself that my children wouldn’t be brought up poor.

When we moved to Harold Hill, there was no transport, no schools, no shops, nothing to do socially. And I often asked myself, 'Why didn’t I ask about these when I signed up for the house?' But I was so impressed with the house – the garden, the bathroom, the kitchen – that I never even thought about anything else.

My husband was working in Deptford as a cabinetmaker, and so he would leave the house at six in the morning and not come in to after eight. The kids only saw him at the weekends, and by the time he had a bath, had something to eat, read the paper; then it was time to go to bed. It was a very lonely life, but then women were expected to bring up the kids, do all the housework, and have a dinner on the table when your husband walked through the door. We had to do everything.
I had my name on all the transfer boards trying to get back to Greenwich where my family lived, but we couldn’t go back because there was nothing to go back to – there was no accommodation. Even to this day I regret coming here.

There were terrible problems with the local residents at Noak Hill. There was one little bus that used to run from there to Romford station, and they really didn’t want us on that bus saying that it was for them only. It was one of the reasons why I wanted to move back, I thought, ‘What do I want to live where I’m not wanted?’ I can understand their point of view better now that I’m getting old – not wanting upheaval and change; but I certainly couldn’t then.’

Memories of Maisie Lambert
Home page		Click here to return to the previous page
	Maisie Lambert was born in 1923. Living in Greenwich, she left school at the age of 14 in 1937 and then was employed in a succession of grim factory jobs until at the age of 18 she enlisted into the ATS. This took her out of the war zone that was around the south London docks and into the countryside of Wales and Cornwall. Like many in Maisie’s social position, this was the first time that good food and bathing became part of her daily life. After marrying her husband in 1944, she returned to London and bomb-damaged Greenwich. Whilst living in unsatisfactory accommodation, she was offered a choice of houses in either Charlton or Harold Hill, from which, of course, she chose Harold Hill. Moving to the new estate in 1953, she was the first occupant on her street, Woodbridge Lane. Although bringing up five children who have all gone on to lead successful lives, Maisie still feels resentment about having to leave her family in Greenwich. ‘I had six other brothers and sisters and at one point there were seven of us all sleeping in the one bed. The walls were alive with bugs. There was no kitchen, just a stove that my mum tried to cook upon. There was no hot or cold running water, and for a bath we used to have to go to the local bathhouse once a week. We weren’t brought up to wash, we would only just use a flannel to wash our face, hands and private parts. That’s not to say we weren’t brought up to be proud and to stand tall. There was no garden to put the washing so my mother placed a line across the room downstairs, and every evening there would be wet and dripping washing in the house to make sure that we had clean clothes for school the next day. If one of my shoes had a hole in the sole, then my dad would still spend time polishing the rest of the shoe despite there being a hole in the bottom. My father had terrible problems finding work during the Depression, and so myself, as well as my other brothers and sisters, were put into a children’s home for about a year. In fact, one of my elder brothers stayed in a home until he was fourteen. It was an awful time, really awful. I had a lot of problems at school as well because I had bad eyesight and there was no possibility then of getting glasses, so I left school unable to read or write. Since then I’ve taught myself to read, but my spelling is still really bad. What we were taught at school was household duties, such as how to iron, how to cook, that sort of thing. Because they expected us to be wives and mothers – that was the only option in their eyes. But after leaving school at 14 I worked in factories pressing labels onto sacks, making tins, really horrid work. All we were was factory fodder. They were real hard times, and I always said to myself that my children wouldn’t be brought up poor. When we moved to Harold Hill, there was no transport, no schools, no shops, nothing to do socially. And I often asked myself, 'Why didn’t I ask about these when I signed up for the house?' But I was so impressed with the house – the garden, the bathroom, the kitchen – that I never even thought about anything else. My husband was working in Deptford as a cabinetmaker, and so he would leave the house at six in the morning and not come in to after eight. The kids only saw him at the weekends, and by the time he had a bath, had something to eat, read the paper; then it was time to go to bed. It was a very lonely life, but then women were expected to bring up the kids, do all the housework, and have a dinner on the table when your husband walked through the door. We had to do everything. I had my name on all the transfer boards trying to get back to Greenwich where my family lived, but we couldn’t go back because there was nothing to go back to – there was no accommodation. Even to this day I regret coming here. There were terrible problems with the local residents at Noak Hill. There was one little bus that used to run from there to Romford station, and they really didn’t want us on that bus saying that it was for them only. It was one of the reasons why I wanted to move back, I thought, ‘What do I want to live where I’m not wanted?’ I can understand their point of view better now that I’m getting old – not wanting upheaval and change; but I certainly couldn’t then.’