They were born on the same day, September 30 1928, grew up on the same street – and are still together 87 years later.

As they approach their 65th wedding anniversary, Ronald and Violet Smith can barely remember life without each other but as they recalled, their shared destiny wasn’t always so clear-cut in their days as youngsters in Ordnance Street, Chatham.

“He used to chase me and I used to tell my friends ‘tell him to go away, I don’t like him,’” said Mrs Smith, of Gentian Close, Chatham.

Mr Smith too can still recall getting the cold shoulder. “I was a bit sweet on her from when I first saw her, but she didn’t take a lot of notice,” he said.

But he wasn’t one to give up, and the story of their first date, around the age of 17, shows Violet was always his number one priority.

“As we got older he asked me to go out,” she recalled.

“We went to the pictures but our parents in those days were very strict, and my dad said I could go but had to be back in the house by a certain time.”

Mr Smith picks up the story: “I was a lorry driver for Cross’s in Ordnance Street.

We used to do work for a farm in Sittingbourne, working early in the morning and late at night.

“Because I’d met Vi we went out on our first date. I told the boss ‘I’m going to get off early because I’m going out’ and he gave me the sack.”

He doesn’t remember being too worried about the job though, just remembering the date “went very well”. A week later he got his job back.

But those early happy memories are intertwined with tragedy, as they are for many of the same generation.

In the early part of the war the families of Ordnance Street bore the brunt of two German bombing raids, killing 24 people in 1940, including Mr Cross’s wife and two children.

“I was about the same age as his son, so he took me on like a son,” remembers Mr Smith.

Mrs Smith added: “We knew Mrs Cross and her daughter Sophie and son Reg. Sophie was my best friend. She got killed. That was very sad.

“To sit down in those dug outs all night was terribly cold and damp. My sister used to play the piano accordion in the dug out. It was a choice of listening to that or listening to the doodlebugs coming over.

“You used to wonder if there would still be a house out there when you came out in the morning. It was scary.”

Perhaps it was such memories of loss that led post-war couples such as Ronald and Violet to value their relationships and families above all. So the two married on March 3 1951 and never looked back; bringing up their children Susan, Barry and Valerie.

As they both recall, the proposal and wedding were rather unassuming by today’s standards.

“Her sister got married and we were in the house,” remembers Mr Smith. “I said ‘what about us getting engaged?’ Then we made arrangements and we got married in the register office. We had no money - my mum and her mum just made a few sandwiches.”

“He didn’t get down on one knee,” laughs Mrs Smith. “I said ‘yes, if that’s what you truly want.’”

“I’m not going to say we’ve gone through life without having differences - everyone has their arguments,” she adds.

“That’s got to happen in most families. You don’t go through life without having a little difference now and again.

“My parents used to row like I don’t know. But going back to those days, the man was the boss.
“These days it isn’t like that, and it wasn’t like that for us. We’re equal. I think that helps. It kept us together.”

Mrs Smith added: “I feel quite lucky I’ve lived to this age and we’re coming up to our 65th wedding anniversary.

“A lot of people don’t do that so we count ourselves lucky.”

And Mr Smith is still counting his blessings that he met his wife, who is now more or less his full-time carer due to health issues. “I wouldn’t know what to do without her,” he says.