Every house had to have black-out, and there was no alternative to making it yourself as there were no government schemes, grants or approved contractors to do this for you.  Part of the solution was to make sure your curtains were very thick and that they overlapped the edges of the window frame.  But there was no supply of thick material in the shops.  The solution we employed, and many did likewise, was to make a frame of timber to fit the inside of the window frame. A couple of cross braces would help to keep this frail frame square and rigid.  You then used wall paper or ceiling paper to stretch across the frame, and provided the paper was not translucent it obscured any light that escaped past the curtains.  In those days the typical bulb in a centre ceiling pendant was 60 watts. In fact, I can distinctly remember when the war ended the improvement a 100-watt bulb made, and as for 150 watt, that felt like an unnecessary extravagance and probably did nothing for the wrinkles and skin tones of those who'd lived through the war years happy with less illumination and fewer visible wrinkles.  The Police and ARP patrols would be quick to rap repeatedly on the door of any house leaking light and shout “Put that light out”.

 

The ARP was a high-profile organisation in our neighbourhood.  Any men who had not gone into the Services because of age or infirmity were conscripted to this part time service.  They were issued with a badge, armband, a tin hat and a torch. Their duties: to watch for fires during and after raids, and to account for people in the event of a hit. Because it was organised locally everyone got to know each other and would know where the vulnerable, the infirm, the deaf and the immobile people lived. Warnings of raids were made by loud sirens fixed on tall buildings and ours was on the Country Maid bakery on the top road.  Its wail was clearly heard, but neighbours had to alert deaf and elderly people. The rule was to go to the nearest shelter immediately.