 Old photograph of George Cruden, 2nd from top left. Cambridge Military.
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  My Great Uncle Arthur Cruden at the 1st Camb. HQ in Cambridge. 1925
  Old photographs of Great Uncle George Cruden in his army uniform in the back garden of the house at Oxford Road, Cambridge c.1940's
 Old photograph of Cambridgeshire Transport Section ? WWI
 Cambridgeshire Transport Section WWI
 Cambridgeshire Transport Section and my Great Uncle Arthur Cruden, who lived on Russell Street and then Oxford Road, Cambridge. Arthur is bottom right of the picture, as you look at it, sitting cross legged on the floor with his arms folded.
 My great Uncle Arthur Cruden, standing in the back garden of the house in Oxford Road, Cambridge c.WWII ?
This is my aunts story ( Joan Punter, nee Toller )- as she wrote it- March 2005.
I was born in 1940 so war was a normal state of affairs for me and my sister. The family ( grannie, aunts, uncles and cousin ) all lived in Oxford Road Cambridge. My father was away fighting the war in France, in the Royal Army Medical Corps. Uncle Bill was in the Fire Service and Uncle George was in the R.A.F. so men in uniform was normal. Uncle Russ and Uncle Arthur worked away some of the time in munitions, so ours was a world of women. We grew our own veg and salad, kept the allotment going to help Bill, with chickens and pigs to feed. We made our own clothes often and baked cakes and pies. Nights were spent sleeping under the air-raid metal ) table, surrounded by wire mesh on a red cross blanket. We had an Anderson shelter in the garden, which was cosy but cold and damp. We also went in the cupboard under the stairs when the siren went, and took it in turns to sit on the gas meter! Luckily for us the bombers which came over Cambridge usually headed up north to bomb our factories which made munitions, but I remember the sickening siren sound, followed by bombs exploding. My daddy was driving these baddies away, and he later told us how he came back from Dunkirk with bombs dropping all around and near their boat. He kept saying " Please God get me home to my wife and children." I was five when it ended, and all I remember then was red, white and blue everywhere, street parties, and best of all a new baby brother! ( Sadly I had friends whose daddy never came home as ours did.) Joan ( nee Toller ) These letters belong to my aunt Joan Punter ( nee Toller ). These contain interesting home front information and political views of the war. They were written by my Great Aunt Marie to her husband George Cruden. ( both now deceased. )
In several of these letter Marie refers to George as Peter Precious- as she was a Catholic from Ireland and didn't want to introduce him to her family as George ( the English kings name ) she called him Peter. At 95: [ Oxford Road Cambridge ] My Dearest x Thanks for your letter, & it was certainly a gruelling journey- pity they don’t put more corridors on- what a life at London Road- that’s some billet- guess the sooner they decide about some other places the better for all concerned- as the a.m. people must be getting fed up with it too. They say on the wireless that they’ve got so many airforce personnel they are drafting them into the other two forces- particularly the army- as that is where they are wanted, seems such a daft arrangement, although they add they are continuing to take recruits. Do you think bringing up the matter of remuster has brought about the recent change about for you & those other chaps? Went to the pictures by myself on Monday night- mother dosen’t care for pictures she says- Monday 6 p.m. I did the front garden by cutting the grass, clearing the beds of toffee papers, rags & other odds & ends, & mowed the back lawn- but I’m scratched to bits for overlooking the rose trees, & plonking into the taller ones. The weather keeps nice, that’s one thing in it all. Yesterday we went to the Botanical gardens. Con & the children. They enjoyed it…can’t seem to think of anywhere nice to go except to Frenches & Brittans..It would have been nice by the sea this weather, wouldn’t it? Uncle Harry turned up at teatime last night- he does look so thin & ill- but he says he couldn’t stand life in that Linton institution any longer & has come back to the lodging house here- I got that tea tin open & passed it on to mother- its best to do that think, don’t you- Well dear, did your washing yesterday ( what a pile ) & hung it out, if she doesn’t do it on me , I’ll iron it. Well cheerio, love. Hope you are feeling better & looking forward to seeing you x Your own loving Marie xxxx p.s. Had a warning Monday night. These letters belong to my aunt Joan Punter ( nee Toller ). These contain interesting home front information and political views of the war. They were written by my Great Aunt Marie to her husband George Cruden. ( both now deceased. )
In several of these letter Marie refers to George as Peter Precious- as she was a Catholic from Ireland and didn't want to introduce him to her family as George ( the English kings name ) she called him Peter. Monday ( whit ) May 21/1945 letter 3 [Cambridge] My dearest & Best x Have taken Cons [Connie Toller] letters to the hospital this am, & we’ve just had our dinner- was going to take the kids on the rec: but its turning with rain again- proper thunder showers- so thought I’d write a few lines. We had a nice time together last night. Plenty to drink & they all got merry; old Ivy [Broom] is a scream when she has had a few- she kept us in fits- & on top of that she goes home in the middle of it all, comes back with a basin of what looked like beaten eggs- plus the egg beater, & made us all beat it up like juice & when we all wanted to know what it was in aid of, she told us it was egg flip! 4 eggs, gin, brandy & port- & my goodness — it was lovely!! Wish you could have some- Arthur [Cruden] made me laugh to kill myself!! His soppy grin & then he says- drunken rabble- take ‘em away- bring me dancing girls- then she started doing the can-can with the egg beater as castanets- I thought I should have collapsed! It was damn funny- but it bucked mother up no end- I’m going back tomorrow afternoon, as I have an appointment for my hair Wed: morning, so must get back. I wanted mum to come to the pictures but she didn’t feel up to it and said with this bronchitis she dare not go far- & as the sun has come out we’re off to the Rec! Cheerio my love, they’re waiting, Aunt Phobe [Hatchman] has called & sends her love to you all my love, as always your Own loving wife Marie xxx These letters were given to me by my aunt Joan Punter ( nee Toller ) she now owns these letters which were written by her grandmother- my great grandmother- Ada Hatchman (formally Broom/Cruden), Living in Oxford Road, Cambridge.
95 Oxford Road Cambridge June 20th - 1940 My Dear George and Marie Thankyou for letters, trust you are both well and had a good holiday. You will no doubt be coming back sat. if you come to Cambridge for week end. We shall be pleased to see you both. Eddie [Alexander Edmund Toller] has only just got your letter, he is staying at 7356452 P.. E Toller C/o Mr F Bowling 30 Sandhill Oval Mo.o..stown Leeds we had a very terrible experience Tuesday night- 9 killed 14 injured our window nearly shook out and houses fell to the grounds St Mathews Church Vicarage Terrace, East Road way. your loving mother love to all. Marie and George Cruden, the backs of Cambridge Collages, 1941. - See War Letters on here.  2nd Letter from my great grandmother Ada Broom (formally Cruden, nee Hatchman) to her son George Cruden.
95 Oxford Road Cambridge Feb. 28th 1941 My dear son, Thank you for your nice welcome letter, thought I was never going to hear again from you, Arthur [Cruden] said once you start that you would not be able to get away from it. It’s a shame you have to work so many hours and others are walking about doing nothing but God knows best you are safer there I should say. George and Louie? Was at Pheobe they said London had had a lot of bombs; we have had a lot here lately and a lot of deaths, poor Mr Britton was killed with a bomb and Mrs Peck’s shop down to the ground and also Louies boot shop so that is down for now. 52 bombs they dropped in the night. This last 2 nights they have been quieter. There is no sign of a house anywhere only a sumphj shop and I’m afraid your clothes will be spoilt. You ought to of sent them home because they can’t look after them in a stone place like they have got. did you get back alright it must have took all your time to write letters the few hours you got off but it was a change to get away from the work a bit. I had a letter from Marie [Cruden] she seems to be getting on all right. What time do you get to bed? Connie [Connie Toller- George’s sister] and the baby are well. Eddie [Ed Toller] is supposed to come home 12th March if leave are not stopped we are expecting anything these days. We can only trust to God that things will soon be settled. It’s dreadful the suffering; these days and dear people being killed daily and everywhere take care of yourself George and I do hope you will soon get some more leave. How do you keep in health? Has your cold quite gone. I am beginning to feel better now, 2 months of ups and downs in bad health. I expect you have plenty of snow drops about and crocuses this time in the year if you have more time to enjoy the country ..to the.. and send love and down your handkerchiefs I sent them off with this letter I have done the woolies and will send them on Monday Love from us all your loving Mother xxx P.S So sorry were all broke this week George but mum and I will send you some fags in a few days Con. [Connie Toller] Letter from my great grandmother Ada Broom (formally Cruden, nee Hatchman) to her son George Cruden. 95 Oxford Road Cambridge Sept. 29th 1941 My Dear Son, It was kind of you to write to let me know you got so far and how I want to know how you got on the rest of the way. Hope the old bit of rust was worth taking back; after our allway going wrong but they are useful. Sept. 30th Your letter just come and I will give him your letter, when I come home. The bomb dropped at the back of Hospital and the pilot got killed and Sunday night they drop bombs from Oxford Road to Histon Road all fell in the road and the window was all broken and the front of the houses broken up. And now we have 102 buses come down our road also other vehicles it is quite the main road now, it shook me out of the chair and then all the lights went out and cables under the ground all went so you can guess people about him was a bit scared. We have had lovely weather here; a little rain today; Marie wrote and sent the some curtains, hope you get on alright with your full time job well dear take care of yourself Love from all Your loving mother I found the colours pin just against the …. as if it fell of the piano when the baby pulled the cloth and have move the …. now The other side of the room as they can’t climb ….   Written by Joan Punter (nee Toller) – my aunt – transcribed by Michelle Bullivant Dec 2010
PART ONE: When I was born on 16th April 1940 my father, Eddie, was away in the War. He came home on leave from time to time but I didn’t really have time to get to know him and I apparently got really cross if he and mum danced to the radio together, or kissed and cuddled. We had Russ and Ivy [Russ Broom & his wife – Joan’s uncle, my great uncle] living with us at 100, Oxford Road, so Val [Joan’s sister, my aunt] and I had a lot of attention, games played with them, books read to us and plenty of fun in spite of hours spent under the metal air-raid table, in the cupboard under the stairs (taking turns to sit on the gas meter of all places), and under the piano across the road at No.95. No.95 [Oxford Road] was of great importance in our childhood. Gran, [Ada Broom, formerly Cruden, nee Hatchman, my great grandmother] was there, cooking wonderful old fashioned meals, cakes and pies as did all of her generation. She had also been a kitchen maid, then cook, in service in London as a young woman. It was there she had met her first husband, Cruden. They had George, Arthur and Elsie, then when her husband died of pneumonia in his 30’s, she had to come back to Cambridge where she had support from her mother and sisters, especially Laura and Phoebe. Things were tough and she was very poor. Finally her milkman [Arthur Broom], giving her extra milk and butter for the children, courted her and they married. They had William Hardwick (Bill Broom) in Hardwick Street, then Russell in Russell Street, followed by my mother [my granny] Constance Beatrice. Ada was never one to live a quite life, and she always worked when she could fit it in with her children. I think what caused the most upheaval in the marriage was where she worked at the Globe [pub], Hills Road and started socialising, leaving Arthur minding the children (remember they were not his, and the other three were still very young). There is a true story, told to us by Ada’s sister, Ethel, that one evening when she called at the house, Ada was late coming back from the pub. When she eventually turned up my grandfather said “See, she told me one hour, and it has been three”. With that Ada hit him over the head with a bottle of beer! My grandmother was all heart. She would give her last shilling to a tramp in the street and she loved her children and grandchildren with a deep and protective love; but she had a temper that sometimes frightened people to death. She had had a very hard life and had no time for anyone who was lazy or useless. The stormy marriage ended when our mother [my granny] was 3, so she never had a father figure after that, apart from older brothers of course. The one blessing, I think, that all of my mother’s family had was closeness and support for one another. Ada was always outspoken, even critical, to everyone, though, our mother had to make sure the house was clean when Gran popped over as she might say “What’s that stink in here? You will get the fever!” if something smelly had been left in the kitchen. She had suffered Typhoid Fever and Rheumatic Fever when a young woman so she was very health conscious. Mum remembers, when they lived up Russell Street, if any of them had an accident, Gran would say “Quick, up the “orspidal”, as fast as your legs will carry you!” As Addenbrookes was in Trumpington Street then, it wasn’t far to run. Gran had worked for Turner the magistrate (who officiated at her divorce from ‘Broomy’ as they affectionately labelled him) so on the break up of her marriage Mr. Turner kindly housed them at no.95 Oxford Road “for as long as she lived”! (On her death the house was bought (very reduced in price) by Bill.) So at last, when I was five and starting Richmond Road Infants School, the war ended and my father came home a hero, with his medals and stick with the silver knob on top. We used to play with gas masks on our faces, pretending we were Mickey Mouse, now that they had no use for gas attacks. I don’t want to just record facts and dates in this essay but I would prefer to write a piece with the portrayal of the memories and atmosphere about this time. I sometimes drive down Oxford Road, Windsor and Richmond Roads. I immediately feel the security of the happy years of my childhood. Our house at 110 [Oxford Road] , called ‘Fredaville’, was a usual bay-windowed one, with the ‘front room’ kept tidy and the best furniture in it. We sat there in the sunshine and never messed it up. Our play area was the ‘back room’. It had no bright sunlight streaming in the windows; old chairs, brown worn lino on the floor, and a big old radio by the window in a cupboard. This was our only means of keeping in touch with news, music and comedy and I remember the feeling of dread shown by the grown-ups listening for news on how the war was going. We could be taken over, (with the rest of the world) by the evil dictator, Hitler, our fathers killed , our houses bombed and all of us blown to pieces. However the spirit of our people was always victorious; our father, with his men, would destroy the Nazis forever and we would be safe. Mum was terrified, though, of the planes going over nightly, and the doodlebugs droning over, then exploding. She would drag us shaking, in the stairs cupboard, pitch-black everywhere of course in the black-out, or over to 95 [Oxford Road], making us a fortress under furniture while Gran made cups of tea. You would think Val and I would grow up afraid to leave the house, but it seems to have done us no harm in the long run, for we are both outgoing and confident mothers; so perhaps all our fears were finally put to rest with the jubilation of victory celebrations and seeing our menfolk return, marching proudly and in step along the streets of Cambridge, Union Jacks flying like mad from every house. We seemed to always have a little flag to wave in those happy days. Daddy put away his big kit-bag for good, with his khaki uniform and sergeants badges; Uncle George [Cruden] would no longer be seen in the air force blue uniform, nor Uncle Bill in his firemans one. Everyone was now in ‘civvy street’ and Bill was a grocer again, George was in Mackintosh’s shop in town and our daddy went off every morning on his bike to the Cambridge University Press as a clerk. We now had a baby brother, David, to add to the excitement too, so mummy was always happy and busy, the frequent visits across to Gran’s were now peaceful and jolly, laughter, singing and drinking by the adults at weekends, when Charlie from the Dolamore’s Role on his three-wheeled cycle, puffing and blowing up Castle Hill to bring bottles of booze and lemonade clinking in the enormous metal basket on the front, poor man! We became good friends with Edgar Fletcher, the milkman and his daughter. She always seemed to have interesting pets. He had glass tanks in the garden containing butterflies, I think, also snakes. His daughter told us to come over and see her new baby golden bears. They were actually hamsters, but we had never seen any before, nobody had. Part 2 to follow........  25 Jan 1941 - George Cruden, Cambridge. George lived on Oxford Road Cambridge.
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