Memories of Mendus

Mendus the Chemist on Main Street is well known in Pembroke. Originally set up by John Mendus in the 1930s, the business still maintains his name, despite changes in ownership. Rather apt though for a chemists' when you think about it - mend us!

Nancy Phillips has special memories of Mendus, as she worked there for many years; fond memories which stretch way back to the War years.

I interviewed her at her home last week and she told me that she was only 16 when she started at Mendus in 1940, a job she was eager to do, as 'I liked the idea of being a dispenser', she told me.

Wartime memories

"In 1940, the first recollections I have of Mendus were the soldiers coming back from Dunkirk. Our boys set out in boats across the Channel to bring them back to this country - and they were in a terrible state. People in the Main Street were asked to take them in as only Main Street properties had bathrooms at that time.

They were billeted briefly here, two at a time, get them cleaned up and treated. Mendus took in two soldiers and they were in a dreadful state, with big blisters on their feet, shoes in tatters and covered in scratches.

They bathed in our bathroom and Eddie Rees saw to their feet. After that they must have rejoined their units, as we didn't see any more of them - they were called the Sherwood Foresters, I think.

Birth control

Anyway, there was a lighter side to being at Mendus'. I don't know if you want to print this - it's about birth control. Men would never ask women for anything to do about that - never. But the boys all went to join the forces while Johnny Dawkins went to work in Sir Archibald McIndoe's clinic at East Grinstead, which pioneered plastic surgery for airmen's injuries. Only women worked in the shop then.

I remember this one particular man coming into the shop. He was embarrassed and hanging around, but I knew what he wanted - after a long wait he asked me for contraceptives and I gave them to him. After that, when he came in, I would just wrap them up and give them to him without a word spoken, and off he'd go. But this one particular time he came in and I had them all wrapped up ready for him, but he just looked at me and said 'but I just want milk of magnesia tablets!'

Wartime shortages

There were wartime shortages in the chemist. One of these was Farley's Rusks. Women used to wait to see the GWR deliver them to Mendus and when they saw a delivery of a big box labelled Farley's Rusks, they'd wait outside in a queue. We'd give one packet to everybody, until they ran out.

Another thing in short supply were rubber teats for babies' bottles, as all the rubber had gone for use in the Forces. People used to come in with swollen rubber teats and ask if we could do anything, but we only had six in a week - what could you do with that?

Lipsticks were another thing in short supply. The girls in the Star Supply Stores across the road used to come in and say 'look at my lipstick; I can't get any more out of it!' So we had a barter scheme going - I'd say 'you can have a lipstick, but what can I have instead?' 'How about half a pound of marg?' 'That'll do,' said I.

My mother used to say to me - if you see a queue, join it. I did one day and all I got at the end of it was one banana and we were six people in the family!

Americans in Pembroke

In 1942, the Americans came over here to practise for the D-Day landings. The black Americans were in Lamphey and the white Americans were in Pembroke and never the twain shall meet. There were big fights between the local boys and the Americans - as they had everything. They had nylons, chewing gum - anything you could think of.

The Royal Oak accepted the black Americans - the landlord, Mr. Sellwood, would say 'if you are good enough to fight for your country, you can come in here to have a drink'. They were stationed in Lamphey, camped in Nissen huts, while the white Americans were stationed in the Main Street, and in the Castle. Terrible segregation.

Brylcreem disaster

During the war, John Mendus had a go at making Brylcreem; you couldn't get it during the war. He and his wife mixed up this concoction and Barry Lee (the wet fish shop - where Middlegate is now) bought a bottle. He came in the next morning, 'I don't want anymore of that Mr. Mendus, when I got up this morning, the pillow got up with me!'

Mr. Pike opposite (where the surf shop is now) had lavatories in one window and in the other he had crockery.

During the war he couldn't get crockery, but Mrs. Mendus, who was a bit of a go-getter, managed to get Devon Art Pottery. She said to her husband 'I'm going to put this in the window', to which he replied, 'You can't do that, Mary, Mr. Pike has nothing to sell'.

She said she would do it anyway, so she lined the window with black velvet and made a lovely window arrangement - she was very good at that sort of thing. Mr. Mendus told me 'take that out' and I was worried there would be a row, but I had to do it. There was. 'Who's taken my stuff out?' she stormed, so I had to tell her and she put it all back. This went on two or three times and he gave in in the end. Poor old Mr. Pike. My father made up a rhyme about him

Mr. Pike, Mr. Pike, you can say what you like

Your window is really a farce

In one place you've got cups and saucers

In the other, a place for your ****

National Health

In 1948, Aneurin Bevan pushed through his bill, against all odds, to set up the National Health Service, so it was free glasses, free teeth, practically free everything. There were queues round the block for glasses - you could have two pairs, a distance pair and a reading pair. John Mendus was a very clever man, having two degrees, which qualified him as an optician, as well as a chemist.

Before the NHS, people with cataracts who were half-blind could not afford treatment. But then they had access to specialists to remove their cataracts. The specialist, Dr. Quick, used to come to Mendus to do the operation. I remember John Mendus asking me to take one woman outside after the operation to ask what she could see - 'I can see the town clock and I haven't seen it for years and years!' she exclaimed.

He even started up a hearing centre and fitted hearing aids. There is one funny story I recall about an old man who used to call by in a pony and trap. No one wanted to serve him because he couldn't hear and you had to shout into his hearing trumpet, but, being the youngest, I always got pushed out to do it.

Well, he was eventually fitted with a hearing aid by Mr. Mendus, but came back dissatisfied. 'I can't stand this thing anymore, it's making an awful noise when I'm in the trap,' he complained. 'What sort of noise?' Mr. Mendus said, to which he replied, 'Clop, clop, clop, clop'. John said 'that's the pony's feet - you just haven't heard them before!'

Dispensing days

Nancy still has the pestle and mortar she used to make up prescriptions - it turned up at the Antiques Centre in the Wesleyan Chapel after the shop was modernised and the old shop fittings torn out. She was delighted to have it. "I used to make up the prescriptions, grinding the ingredients in this and then making up the medicine in bottles - there weren't tablets like you have today. No, I didn't have qualifications, I just picked it up as I went along."

Contact

If you have any stories, photographs or feedback for this column, please contact me, Linda Asman, on 01646 622428, email [email protected]">[email protected] & visit our website http://www.pembrokeandmonkonhistory.org.uk">www.pembrokeandmonkonhistory.org.uk

Next event: Friday, November 21, 7.30 pm, at Monkton Priory Church Hall, Quiz Night and Social - £4 includes buffet. Bring your own bottle if you wish.