England to Australia 1950

I grew up in England during WW2 and I was always aware that when the war was over we would be going to Australia.  My parents had lived in Sydney in the 1920s and 1930s and my brother was born there.  However when the depression hit, my mother longed to be back in England with her parents.  My father was unemployed and they couldn't afford the fare and my maternal grandparents raised the fare from family and friends for my mother and brother to travel to England.  My father had arranged with a shipping company to work his passage (a regular option at that time).  So my mother and brother arrived in England only to  receive the news that the shipping company had changed its policy and no longer offered the option that had been agreed to.  So that the family could be reunited as soon as possible my grandparents came to the rescue again, and my father arrived in England the following year.  Up until the time we left England in 1950 my mother would give half a crown to an old man each time we met him in the street and it wasn't until many years later that I realised the significance of this. He had contributed to their 'travel fund'.  I don't know if the debt was ever fully paid, but I do know the repayments were made over at least 17 years with never a request for payment.

After our application to emigrate had been accepted we were wondering which ship we would travel on.  There had been an outbreak of smallpox on one of the emigrant ships and my mother constantly said "I hope we don't go on that ship".  However, when we finally got our sailing date, we discovered that we would be sailing on SS MOOLTAN, the smallpox ship. 

Memories of Batley

MISUNDERSTANDING

It was a cold, damp English winter's day during World War 2. 
My brother Fred had joined the army and that left just three of us at home, Mum, Dad and me.
My mother was always looking for news from him, I think she missed him very much.

Each day I kept an eye out for the baker's van to deliver bread to the shop across the street.
This morning when the baker arrived I called out to Mum "Bread's come".  Her face lit up, bright enough to disperse the gloom, and she said "where is he?"  However, her joy was shortlived as she thought I had said "Fred's come."only to discover that it was only the baker.