My name is Paula Bowman and I was born on the 1st of June, 1922 in Yorkshire. I had a beautiful family. My father was in textiles. Two girls and two boys in the family, which was really nice. So made me have a wee bit of a tomboy I’m afraid. And I was sent away to a French convent at the age of seven and didn't like that at all. So I ran away a few times just to cause a sensation. I settled down after a few years. So I ended up by leaving after ten years as Head Girl. So I was very proud of that. I was captain of the hockey team. And I loved netball too. Every Saturday morning we’d go on the beach and if the tide came in, didn’t matter, the horses loved being in there, a little bit of water. And then every year we'd would have a gymkhana. We’d have an egg and spoon race on horseback and oh, I used to love, love riding. I think I would have been about eight or nine or something. I was dying for a pair of shorts. My father said, “Girls don’t wear shorts”. So I got pretty sick about this, and I said to my brother. “Can I borrow your cricket shorts?” They had little white cricket shorts. And he said, “Yeah, yeah, yeah”. So we were in this very smart hotel in Belgium at the time and I put on these little white shorts and the shirt, and went down to breakfast. My father saw me coming in the dining room. He nearly died. He couldn't believe it. Couldn't really make a fuss in the restaurant. So after breakfast, he took me outside, got mother to get her little box camera to take a photograph of me with him. He had his long, white flannels on and I had these little white shorts. And I've got the photograph today, which meant a lot to me at the time. But in the end, he just gave up, I think, anything I wanted to do... because I’d do it anyway. I don't think it was a very nice little girl, was I? Yeah? Anyway, leaving school, I wanted to study architecture but my father said “Girls don’t so that. But if you really want to do it, if you go to a finishing school first, in Denmark, and when you’ve finished there and you still want to do it, well, we'll think about it.” So overnight, war was declared and I had a cable from the Danish consulate to say, “don't leave England, war is inevitable”. And just as well because they bombed Esbjerg the following day where I was to land. Because I can't be just idle, I went to the university and did a Social Diploma course, which was very interesting. And at night time I used to work for the Red Cross and I’d volunteer. And I did weekends as well. And it became a big thing in my life. And nurses were very, very short in those days. And so they asked us, would we take an abridged nursing course and go to York Military Hospital? So my friend Margaret and I decided, why not, we'll do this. So we did. So we gave away everything we were doing and went to York Military Hospital. That was quite a difference in our lives, I could tell you. And many, many homes in England were turned into camp reception stations, hospital relief. And we ended up in Hull where they were unloading hospital ships and there were V-bombs coming over in Hull which was pretty terrible. So that was quite terrifying. But anyway, we were young and we coped pretty well, but it was a lot of experiences for a girl who had just left school. And I met a lot of girls that I normally wouldn't have met. One of the places that we were moved to was Ranksborough Hall, which was a beautiful old home that had been given over by the ‘Master of the Hunt’. And the main homestead, of course, was the hospital. There’s a photograph of me actually looking out of the window. The stables underneath were full of ambulances and we were billeted where the grooms would be. Your sugar ration was in a little jar. We had three little jars on the table in front of you, one for your sugar, one for something else and one for something else with your name on them. And that was yours for a month. That was to last a month. But everybody was healthy. We were all slim and we had enough for our energy. It was an amazing ration. And I always said that if they put that ration into a book and sold it for diets... that's what would be good. One day they had a message from the local aerodrome saying they were having a party in the mess and would they send over five nurses or whoever was off duty to join the party for obvious reasons. And so Margaret and I were off duty and we were one of the five. We went there with an escort, a matron, very strict matron, and we were formally introduced to all the fellows, which today would be unthinkable. But that's that's the way it worked. And of course, being well brought up young ladies, we danced with whoever we were introduced to. And then halfway through, then we changed partners. And that is how I met my future husband. Because Margaret's partner was given to me and that was it. She never got him back again. His name was Arthur Bowman. So that was the beginning of the romance really. And it was a long way from town where we used to go to the... there was a pub there. And one day he said, “Do you think you could come next time without uniform?” They’d seen nothing but uniform for so long and just wanted women to look like women. I said, “Margaret, have you got anything apart from uniform?” because we had to go out in our uniform. I said, “I’ve got a jumper and I’ve got a tweed skirt or something”. Nothing very exciting because we didn't have in those days. And so we did. And my hair was down here. Pageboy, you know. So I just put a bit of ribbon, bit of navy blue ribbon around my head. And we had to cycle into town. Oh Tina, you have no idea! In pitch dark. And had these little lights on the front of the bicycles with shutters on because it had to do that. That's all you were allowed. Night in the dark. In the country. All the way from Ranksborough Hall all the way down. We left our bikes outside the hall there, and then we had to cycle home at midnight. It was uphill all the way! I'll never forget that. And then we were posted elsewhere, over to Ely And so that was the end of that for a while, until I had a message from Arthur, my future husband, to say that he was getting leave and could I get leave? And I wrote back and said, “No I couldn't get leave at all during that period”. So he said, “Oh well, I’m coming over anyway”. And I was stationed at this time in the Bishop's Palace in Ely, which was absolutely beautiful, and there was a big garden seat there, and he used to sit on that seat and wait for me to come of duty. I said, “You've got leave”. “Yes”. “Well where is your crew?” “Oh they’ve all gone up to London”. I said, “Well why aren’t you going up to London?” “Well I didn't want to go, I wanted to come and see you”. So that was really the beginning of things I think. So anyway, he was a pilot and he’d been into Bomber Command and he'd been over to Europe and he was partly traumatized at times himself. But nobody called it that in those days. They just said they were tired and you know, needed a break. He was in what they call Wellington Bombers. I saw the Wellingtons setting off one night to go over to Germany and they were fabric and they were literally shaking. Awful to think that men were saving their lives in these machines. Anyway, he was soon transferred to the Lancasters, which were much superior. They really saved the War. Wonderful machine. Mother was working for the Red Cross. Only rolling bandages and things but she was doing something for the Red Cross. Everybody was doing something. And then if or as say, we had a house maid and another one you know but they had to go, they went on munitions. So that's how we ended up with just Betty. And my brother Desmond, aged 22, a fighter pilot, was killed in Burma. And that was devastating for my parents. Absolutely devastating. The government wanted me to take compassionate leave, to try and do something with my parents because my father was a workaholic, was just sitting traumatized, and my mother the same. They weren't drinkers so they weren’t even drinking. They just had cups of tea, sitting, looking at one another. It was all... Didn’t move from the house. So anyway, after a little while, I did eventually get my father back to work. It was Christmas time and I suggested to my parents that I had this lonely Australian who had nowhere to go for Christmas and how about, you know, I said, “How about, would it be in order to have him for Christmas?” “Oh, yes” said my father, “provided you don’t get fond of the fellow”. Nearly said, “It's too late for that”, but I didn’t. Anyway, eventually I did get him over to Beech Lodge, my home. We went in to Leeds just to do a bit of looking at the shops and have a cup of coffee and things like that. And over the cup of coffee, suddenly Arthur said to me, “When are you going to marry me?” And I said, “Oh, why?” And he said, “Well, when are you going to marry me?” And that was the proposal. That's all he said, as if to say, “I know you want to, you know”. That's all he said. So anyway, we decided there and then we wanted to become engaged. So when we got to Beech Lodge, my home, he asked to speak to my father. So he was locked in the dining room with my father and put through the gamut I might tell you. And he was there for ages and I was sitting on the stairs outside thinking, “Goodness me, this is going on for hours”. So the poor man really went through it... and my father's questions, but in the end he won him over and we were allowed to become engaged. So that was the beginning of everything. My father made the stipulation: we were allowed to become engaged provided we didn't get married till after he’d flown his complete tours over Germany, which was understandable having lost my brother. And also my father wasn't too keen on me going to Australia. So he said to my future husband, he said, “Would you like to stay in England?” And he said, “Well, yes, I could do that and continue with my accountancy after the War”. My father said, “Well, if you’ll do that I can article you to an accountant in Leeds and you know your future will be assured”. So anyway, I was asked about this and I said, “I don't marry an Australian to expect him to stay in my country, if I'm marrying an Australian and he wants to go home, where his inheritance is, that's where we should go”. After we had gotten the okay to get engaged, my father, of course, to leave no stone unturned, decided to put a solicitor on to the Bowman family, which I was marrying into, to find out something about them, and unbeknownst to him, my future mother in law was doing the same thing. And to my amazement, I never knew until many years later, that they were both using the same solicitor. Freddy was my matron of honour. Didn't have any bridesmaids, just my matron of honour which was my sister because she was already married. I had nothing to wear, I mean I didn’t go to a couturier and have a wedding dress made. We just bought something off the peg. Literally. And you had to have coupons. So the family gave me some of their coupons so eventually we had enough coupons to buy the dress. I wasn’t very fussed what I wore to be honest. But there’s quite a nice shot, quite a photograph isn’t it? All the ones in the Australian uniform, there’s two I think, two in English uniform, the lighter color. And then on the other side was Malcolm and Freddy and the rest of the crew. Many moons later of course I became pregnant with my first son, Arthur. And so I got maternity leave. That was really nice to be home with my parents, but they thought I was very silly to have done that. But anyway, they knew they would never stop me doing whatever I wanted to do. They never could. So, for us to get to Australia, I had to go on what they called the ‘Bride Ship’ and I couldn't tell you the performances that went on that ship. It was delayed for two weeks because there was so many children that they decided they ought to have a child specialist on the ship. But actually, I think we were waiting for the doctor to qualify because his knowledge was nil. My father drove me up to Southampton to get out on the Stirling Castle and when we got down he said, “My dear child, you must love him a lot to do what you're doing. Getting on that ship, you don't know where you’re going to with a little boy.” He said, “It just must be the right person”. So that was... He was obviously... He’d lost his son and now he’d lost a daughter. So I could understand his sadness, really. I said to my father, “Please don't ask for any special things on the ship for me. I've got to go the same as all the other girls”. Little did I realize, who the other girls were, but he must have done something because I had a cabin with a hook-on bassinet for the baby and only one girl who didn't have a child in this cabin. And I had my bathroom as well. Now most of the girls, there were five to a cabin, with children. I don’t know how they managed but so many of them were so dreadful. These girls used to lock their children in the cabins. There were a lot of toddlers. Lock them in the cabins and sleep with the officers. And as for hygiene, there was nil on the ship. They didn't even bother to wash the napkins. No disposable in those days. Anyway, it ended up by getting this terrible gastroenteritis and I befriended one girl, who had married a teacher in Melbourne, and she had a little girl called Betty, same age as Arthur. About nine months I think she was. And she died on the way at Fremantle. Must have been devastating to that girl to land and tell her husband that the baby had died on the way. You know, must have been horrifying. Well Arthur got very sick but he looked very healthy. When I left, he was a big bouncing boy and therefore he had a lot of resistance. He was never a weakling. And so when we came off the ship in Sydney, we had to line up to have a health test and the doctor looked at Arthur and said, “Well, you're a healthy young man”. And I just said, “Yes”. I made out he was very healthy because I just couldn’t get ashore quick enough because I knew the doctor was no good. So anyway, Arthur alerted his... when I arrived, he alerted his uncle, who was Dr Dougal Bowman, who immediately got a bed at Children‘s Hospital, Camperdown, and Arthur was taken there. And when he arrived he was very ill and they said to Arthur and I, “Don't leave the hospital, sleep in the chair tonight. We don't like your chances”. So it was pretty devastating. Anyway, in the morning this little cheeky boy was sitting up in the cot giving the nurses and clapping and going on. It was dehydration and the poor child was given an intravenous... and he was cheeky and sitting up in the morning... And was absolutely fine. It was pure dehydration, from the gastroenteritis. Anyway, we were very lucky that we got him to hospital in time. Kanimbla Hall was a tiny apartment, but it was ours and it was just lovely to have it. But I had no laundry. It was just a bathroom, a bedroom and the living room and the balcony. The balcony had a piece of awning that came down and that is... we put the awning down and we put a cot for Arthur on the balcony, and he literally slept on the balcony all the time. That was his room. There was a little kitchenette. There was a little fridge, a little stove and everything was tidy. And I wasn't a cook anyway. I had never cooked in my life. A passionfruit. I did know what they were and I said, “What are those?” He said, “Oh, absolutely delicious. Put them into the fruit salad.” So I said, “Oh alright.” He said, “What are you doing in the kitchen for so long?” I said, “This stupid fruit you bought, by the time I’ve taken the pips out, there’s nothing left.” We'd been in Sydney for quite a while and it was time we felt that I met my mother in law. So we didn't have a car, so we went by train to Singleton in the hottest day ever. I think it was 103 in the shade or something with this little boy in the train. And we got to Singleton to be greeted with my mother in law, who was very voluptuous and rather frightened the little boy. But anyway, it was my first encounter with my mother in law. And that she had this Jaguar car, put us into the Jag, sat in the back of the car with a little boy who was dehydrated at the stage, on a dirt road, all the way to the property. I thought we were never getting there because I wasn't used to the Australian countryside. The homestead and three share farmers houses. They were all into dairy. Beautiful property over the Hunter River running down the the bottom of it. The property was left to my husband at the age of six. His father died when he was six and he was the only boy it was to go to him. But as they did in wills in those days, it was left to my mother in law for her lifetime and that that was the way they made wills in those days. And so long as she didn't marry, it was her property. But if she married, which she never did, it was to go straight to the son. Anyway, one day Arthur came home from work, it was in Le Maistre Walker in Sydney and he said, “Would you mind going to live in the country?” And I said, “Well, I've come across the world. What’s the difference?” Living in the country was quite a new thing for me. I wasn’t experienced at all but you learn pretty quickly. The country friends that we made have been with me for the rest of my life. I mean most of them have passed away now, but we've had some amazing times with them. I cannot believe that I am still here 30 years after my husband passed away. We were the same age. We were both 70 when he died, which is pretty dreadful. And then later, my son Arthur, he passes away. Same age, 70. It's been the tragedy of my life really. It’s a bit difficult, but I still have... I'm still fortunate enough to have my son, Antony, and my daughter, Tina, ten grandchildren, 16 great grandchildren, which means I’ve got 26 grandchildren, which is not too bad, although I have lived 100 years so that's my reward I expect. Ever since childhood, I’ve been interested in art. We had a really nice studio when I was at school and my happiest time was when it was an art day and we could go in there and paint. And I did... my first painting was a ship on the shore at Filey Beach. And I’ve still got the painting today. 1937 or 36 or something, which makes me about 12. When COVID started and there was isolation, I had a lot of friends who were in retirement homes or nursing homes and weren’t as fortunate as me. And you couldn't visit them because of COVID. So I started doing little cards, painting images on cards and drawing flowers and birds and things, and sending them these cards. Favourite owls. A lot of my friends would say, “What do you do all day, it’s so boring when there’s nothing on television?” I said, “Television? I don't get near the television set til the 7 o’clock news”. And they say, “Well, what do you do all day?” I said, “I draw and I paint and carry on”. And I said, “I find it very interesting”.