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Hitler tried to starve Britain into submission in the Second World War. So food was in short supply because of the risk to merchant seamen of bringing it in from overseas. These seamen risked their lives bringing in what they did, in perpetual fear of being sunk by German submarines.
Consequently householders set up ways to produce more food on the home front. One way was to keep livestock such as chickens and rabbits in back gardens.
Although home owners were encouraged to keep rabbits and chickens for food, I never at the time knew anyone who did. In some ways, I find this surprising, as the excerpts in the boxes show that it was an extremely worthwhile activity while so much shop food was rationed.
However, everyone I have later spoken to who kept chickens and rabbits had a man at home at the time, either because he was too old to be in the forces or because he was in what was called a reserved occupation. I suppose there must have been some exceptions, with women keeping chickens and rabbits.
Rabbits are very good at reproduction all the year round. so those families that kept rabbits had a never ending supply of rabbit and chips, stewed rabbit and rabbit pie. Rabbits were killed for eating whenever there were more rabbits than cages.
To dispatch a rabbit, you suspended it by its back legs with the left hand with its back towards you. Then with your open right hand you struck it across the back of its neck with a swift chopping motion. The rabbit was then disembowelled and a stick of wood was placed in the cut to keep the cavity wide open. The following day the skin was removed.
The skin was worth money from the rag and bone man who sold it on for winter boots and clothing. First, though, it had to be dried. My father stretched it tightly across a board, nailed it to the board and rubbed in salt. When the skin was dry, it was as stiff as the board, but was softened up by rubbing it together and pulling it over your knees.
(Mole skins could be dried in the same way. My first mole trap cost 2/6 [half a crown] from Woolworths but it soon paid for itself as we got 6d per skin. The skin was parcelled up and posted to an address in the Exchange and Mart. Mole skins were needed by plumbers for wiping lead joints, and were used for the purpose ever since Roman times. Moles were bred on an industrial scale wherever the Romans took their civilization. Nowadays pipes are copper and plastic rather than lead.)
It was possible to exchange a person's egg ration for chicken feed which encouraged people to keep chickens, as the exchange paid off very well in terms of meat and extra eggs.
Our chickens were fed on a mash made up at home - bran from the corn merchant mixed with cabbage and left-overs, and all stewed. Preparing the mash was a regular Saturday morning chore, making enough for the week. It made the house reek! But the eggs were plentiful.
My father had an incubator in the back bedroom, so we were completely self sufficient for baby chickens, as we had a cockerel as well.
A wooden 'orange box', into which Granny placed frequently refilled old stoneware hot water bottles, was the make-shift 'incubator' for hatching eggs. The survival rate of the resulting chicks was, as far as I recall, not impressive! She kept this contraption next to the hot-water tank in the bathroom. In my memory, the smell lingers still!
Any eggs we didn't consume, Granny traded for a little extra sugar or tea. I know for a fact, that any rationed sugar, was kept for my sister and me.
Chickens were important for our food, so they had to be kept safe like us in air-raids. Our neighbours put their chickens into their Anderson shelter at night and spent nights with us in our Anderson shelter. We shared the eggs.
Chickens were killed for food as soon as they stopped laying eggs. We would all go and watch Dad wring a chicken's neck, and then we would sit in a circle and pull out the feathers. It was an unpleasant task because the small feathers got up one's nose. The remaining ones went into the compost bin. Chickens were cooked the same day that they were killed.
Each of our chickens was given a pet name and when the time came for one to be slaughtered, mother could not bear the thought of killing what she regarded as her pets. So we continued to have eggs but no chicken meat.