I always make a bee-line
for the war ephemera stall at the Yorkshire Antiques Fair. They put it on four times a year and
everytime I go there I find something new for my collection. I like the postcards and love letters most of
all, I suppose I’m sentimental. I have
boxes and boxes of crisp yellow envelopes, bound together with ribbon and
string. One of these days I’m going to
catalogue them by date and theme. Leave
a bequest to the Imperial
War Museum
I picked this diary up at
the antiques fair. It belonged to
someone named Louisa Bradshaw, and she sporadically wrote entries in it between
1937 and 1952. It’s not a traditional
diary - Louisa used a thick notebook to make her records, writing in her own
dates. It ends when the journal does,
perhaps she carried it on in a new book, maybe she didn’t. She had a lot more on her hands by 1952. Of course, after all those years of use, it’s
a bit battered, which is why I got it at a reasonable price. And Louisa is not famous, she was just another
girl caught up in war and I have no idea what happened to her after 1952. That’s what made this diary all the more
interesting to me.
When I got it home, I
spent all of the following Sunday reading it.
Louisa wrote neatly and fluently, and she unfolds a fascinating story –
one of trains, witchcraft and bus termini.
So here are the edited highlights of Miss Bradshaw’s life and times:
