Families found ingenious ways to make money when their men folk went off to war.

Bill Hounslow made a recording of his childhood experiences before and during the First World War and recalled how he would go ‘dunging’ to earn a few pence.

He would wait outside the Corporation yard with his little cart for the horse-drawn dustcarts to emerge.

The horses were always well fed before starting their rounds and would deposit their breakfast on the road as they came out.

Bill would scoop up the manure and go round with his cart selling it to people for their gardens.

His mother Edith took in washing and lit the boilers at the Oxford gasworks.

Every penny was needed as Mrs Hounslow had six children and a seventh on the way – and she was widowed when her husband William died of sunstroke while serving in Sudan.

The family lived in Stewart Street, Hinksey, near the Seven Stars pub.

Before going to war, William worked for the highways department, knocking down protruding cobbles in the streets.

He was paid a sovereign a week, enough to buy a bag of coal, groceries, tobacco and a special treat – a bowl of steaming hot rice pudding, which they all shared.

Life became tougher for the family after his death.

Bill would sometimes go to school without breakfast, have a slice of bread with sugar at lunchtime and nothing at all at teatime.

Kind-hearted neighbours would help by asking the children to run errands and pay a few pence for the family to buy food.

Although life was grim, the children had a sense of humour and liked to play pranks.

They would tie string between a lamp-post and a wall, shout rude words at the local bobby, he would chase them and lose his helmet as he hit the string!

They also played ‘ghosts’ along the railway line at Hinksey, covering themselves in sheets and rising out of the mist as trains approached.

However, unknown to them, a newspaper article had appeared about the ‘railway ghosts’. When they repeated the trick, there were hundreds of people looking for the ghosts.

The pranksters had to go before the Chief Constable for a severe telling-off!

Extracts from the diary were sent in by Bill’s son, Bob, of Squires Close, Brize Norton.

He writes: “This is a glimpse of life as it was then – life without any of the benefits or help available in our time.

“So today, if you think you are hard done by, remember that little boy with his cart, picking up manure to help keep his family from starving.

“Perhaps the wives and children of the men who died should also be honoured.”