A remarkable diary, written by a London housewife during the Second World War, has been unearthed, offering a fresh and deeply personal perspective on the terror of the Blitz. The journal belonged to Marion Marden, who documented the daily realities of Nazi bombs falling near her home, sleepless nights in air raid shelters, and the constant struggle to feed her family amidst strict rationing.
A Personal Record of the Blitz Uncovered
The diary was discovered unexpectedly by researchers from the probate and genealogy firm Fraser and Fraser. They were conducting an investigation into the unclaimed estate of Marion's daughter, Myrta, who died in 2019 with no known descendants or living relatives. During their detailed genealogical work, which successfully identified living beneficiaries in the UK, France, and Australia, the team found references to Mrs Marden's wartime writings. Excerpts had been shared by collector Valerie Smith, who purchased the diary from a private seller last year.
Between September 7, 1940, and May 21, 1941, more than 40,000 civilians were killed across Britain, with London bearing the brunt of the devastating nighttime bombing raids. Mrs Marden's diary entries vividly capture the 'new normal' of living under the constant threat of death.
"What a night": Entries from the Front Line at Home
In February 1941, she wrote: 'The children full of vim. Air raid 7.20 pm to 11.30 p.m. Four hours of bombing and gunfire. What a night.' The horror of the attacks is starkly illustrated in an entry from March 15, 1941, describing a raid on a dance hall in Palmers Green: 'Raid, gunfire very bad, a lot of damage done and people killed; terrible... Dance hall caught it P.G [Palmers Green]... Crowd on bus got killed. Bus no more.'
In 1941, Marion Marden was 47 and lived in Southgate, north London, with her husband Frank, a volunteer in the Home Guard, and their two children: 11-year-old Raymond and eight-year-old Myrta. She also had an older son, Albert, from a previous relationship.
Wartime Struggles: From Rationing to a Longing for Peace
The diary also sheds light on the mundane yet critical challenges of home life during the war. Food was a recurring concern. In June 1941, she noted: 'Butcher brought beef today and I wanted it to be lamb; still we must not forget it is war time and have to put up with what ever we can get.' On another occasion, she highlighted how even small habits had to change: 'Raymond made some toast, he is like his dad, always ready to make toast. They forget the butter does not go far war time.'
The Blitz destroyed or damaged more than one million houses in London, with other cities like Coventry, Liverpool, and Plymouth also suffering heavily. The intense bombing campaign ended when Hitler abandoned plans to invade Britain and turned his attention to the Soviet Union, though raids continued at a less intense level.
Mrs Marden's diary continued until 1944, and her entries often expressed a weary hope for the conflict to end. On January 2, 1944, she wrote: 'Not heard from Albert yet; I hope he is well. The children full of Vim. We lost 28 planes with men. I wish this war was over.' Later that month, she added: 'The last day of the month and let’s hope it will [be] nearer the end of this terrible war. I kept the children away from school; they both have colds and the shelters are far too cold for them. Raid warning and planes overhead; guns firing.'
Ben Cornish, a case manager at Fraser and Fraser, said: 'When we began this case, we expected a routine investigation into an unclaimed estate. What we found instead was a personal record of the Blitz from the perspective of an ordinary London family. It is a rare and valuable insight into civilian life during the war.' In her later life, Marion Marden moved to Brighton, leaving behind this powerful, handwritten testament to resilience.
