Ron Levett's memories, from the early 1930's, when he lived in the small village of Alfriston in Sussex

Because of the danger of invasion my grandmother evacuated herself and my uncle Pat to another married daughter who lived in Baldock, Hertfordshire. As far as I can remember, I never saw Pat again, even though gran returned to Alfriston after the war.

Pat remained in Baldock, where he married and had children, until he died in the early sixties. My cousin Stanley remained with us throughout the war

In 1941, at the age of fifteen, I decided that I had had enough of school and would like to get out to work and earn some money. I had to get special permission to leave school before my sixteenth birthday, but in view of my academic record, they had no objections!

I applied for a job with J. Sainsbury, an old fashioned grocer at the time. I was sent up to Stamford Street, the head office for an interview and later on, for a two weeks training course in Sainsbury's methods and ideals.

I was sent to a Branch in Goring Road, West Worthing, living over the shop. It was too far to get home, even for weekends but luckily a vacancy soon occurred at Church Road, Hove and I was given a transfer. This was that much nearer and I was able travel home at weekends.

When the shutters were raised and the doors opened in the morning, they remained open regardless of the weather. In the winter, hands froze and everyone found that presenting a smiling face to customers, which was expected, was very difficult.

The shop had a mosaic marble floor, laid by craftsmen who came from Italy before the war. Luckily, the floor behind the counter was made of wood, so at least our feet didn't get too cold. There were chairs provided in the shop, to comply with the law that female staff should be able to sit at times. However, I only ever saw customers sitting on them.

I worked on the butter counter where all the packets of butter, margarine and lard had to be 'knocked up', on a slate block, transferred to the scales using a pair of butter pats, then onto greaseproof paper and wrapped.

Since the ration of fat totalled only half a pound these portions were minute. Their total cost was 6d (Two and a half new pence). Making up these tiny amounts was a very tedious job, particularly at five minutes to closing time when all the working surfaces had been scrubbed with boiling water for the night, an elderly lady, who had had all day to her shopping came in and wanted her 6d worth.

The cheese ration at this time was only 3 ounces per week except for agricultural labourers, real eggs were one per week but American dried egg could be used to make up the ration. Bacon was 4 ounces per week but vegetables, coffee, cocoa and bread were not rationed.

Bread was not rationed until the war was over. There was a points system for such things as tinned meat (Spam), biscuits, golden syrup and other delicacies. This gave people a little choice in their diet, which was pretty sparse but quite healthy compared with today's fare.

I was lucky in some ways as I 'lived in' over the shop. There was a housekeeper called Miss Philips, a middle aged lady from Cornwall who was an excellent cook. Naturally, she made wonderful Cornish pasties, the real thing. These were made from any odd pieces of meat, vegetables and her own special herbs and spices which were her secret.

Eggs that were cracked were not allowed to be sold in the shop, so they were sent up to the kitchen. We probably had more than our share of them. Lunch was served to the staff in the large dining room, a very formal affair, presided over by the manager, who sat at the end of the table.

When the other branches in the Brighton area were short of staff through holidays etc., I was sent to them as a relief worker. I went to St. James Street, London Road and Western Road branches. I quite enjoyed this because it made a change for me.

I also did local deliveries using a trade bicycle, around the Hove area. Once a month, stocktaking took place. Everything had to be correct down the last ounce of butter. If the figures failed to tally, stocktaking took place on the following Saturday again. If this figure were still wrong, stocktaking would take place every Saturday, with higher and higher echelon of management taking part until the problem was solved.

If a member of staff appeared to be more affluent than was appropriate to his job, questions were asked. If a 'roundsboy' acquired a new bicycle, he was questioned about his finances.

Ron Levett, 2001