大象传媒

MY MEMORIES OF WARTIME YEARS - 1938 TO 1945
CHAPTER 1

To the residents of Bow E3 in the East End of London, the signs of approaching hostilities in Europe became more apparent, and earlier, than to residents living in most of the other areas of London. This was due to one particular event which occurred with some regularity throughout the two years 1938 and 1939; namely, the sight of the marching columns of Fascist supporters, led by the strutting jack-booted Oswald Mosley, on their way from Mile End Tube Station to a rally in Victoria Park, along a route which took them along Grove Road , past the Roman Road crossing, the Aberdeen pub and St .Barnabas鈥� church, and thence to the Park entrance off the Old Ford Road.

To a couple of boys aged eleven and twelve, as my brother and myself were at that time, this was a sight which was well worth the occasional Sunday afternoon trip out. After all ,the uniformed marchers with their colourful flags and beating drums could enliven what could otherwise be a quiet and boring afternoon! Added to which, there was often an extra feature which could really enliven the event, with the arrival on the scene, immediately following the Fascist parade, of the brown-shirted Communist Party marchers- -also en-route to a rally at the same venue! Given these circumstances, and in view of the confrontation likely to develop in the park, we would invariably cut short our involvement.

1938 saw our family move from the small two-room accommodation in Mr. Mendelsohn鈥榮 house, number 17 Lyal Road, to a house in Tredegar Road. This event marked a house had a garden, which was something we had never experienced before. It was also much nearer to Bow Central School, a school with a known high standard and reputation, and to which Bill, my brother; was due to the September of the year.

By the early months of 1939,the signs of the approaching war were becoming more apparent, with the building of air-raid shelters alongside major buildings, and in many of the smaller streets. In addition, small pre-fabricated garden shelters [named Anderson shelters].were distributed to hundreds of thousands of houses around the country, including our house, giving rise to some speculation as to how safe we would be inside a tin box, half buried in the ground, with a foot of soil on top!

In the spring of the year, it was my turn to move to another school and although I had the chance to be considered for a place at Parmenters College, the nearest Grammar School, my parents felt that, given the prevailing circumstances it would be sensible that we should both be at the same school. Thus I was pleased to join Bill at Bow Central School in May.

In August, political events, and military moves on the part of Germany throughout eastern Europe, moved rapidly to the point where the Government decided that the evacuation of 1.5 million children from those cities and towns considered to be at risk from air attack, should begin on, and be completed during, the week beginning the 31st. of the month.

So it was, on the 2nd of September 1939, Bill and myself, accompanied by Mum, joined the crowd of other evacuees and tearful mums assembling in the school playgrounds, awaiting buses to take their children somewhere.. After tears all around, we said our goodbyes and with our permitted
鈥渃hange of clothes, toothbrush, gas mask and a handkerchief,鈥� in our small suitcases, and suitably labelled, we were on our way to a new and unknown world.

Once we had left the school, I recall that nothing much was said as the bus headed towards its unknown destination. Perhaps this was not surprising , since most of us had never left our parents behind before -and certainly not for what could turn out to be of indeterminate duration. Even the teachers accompanying us were silent!
However, it was only a short journey [about 3 miles] to our first change of transport- at Liverpool Street Railway Station where, after a delay for head-counting and refreshments etc, we were ushered into a train, and what we all hoped would be our final journey, began.

Once again, after an early period of excitement, I began to be very concerned as to where we would end up, who we would be living with, and for how long. I knew that most of our school friends would be thinking on similar lines. However, what we really wanted to know was ; where are we bound for, and when will we get there ?

The train journey seemed to be one of stop and start in endless and boring discontinuity, no doubt due to the numbers of trains in operation transporting countless thousands of children like us around the English countryside Added to the difficulties, the onset of darkness only served to increase our deepening sense of worry and weariness.

Finally, however, the train came to a stop. But this time it remained stationary, and through the smoke and steam we were, at long last, able to see the dimly -lit platform name sign: ------鈥淏anbury鈥�
We had arrived at our new hometown --- Banbury!! And to a new life, with all it would mean in terms of a new home, new 鈥渇amily,鈥� new friends and new school.

Once we were off the train we were given a meal of soup and sandwiches. after which we were sorted and identified into school groups At last we were able to have a rest and to take an interest in the very busy scene around us.

Everywhere there seemed to be all manner of vehicles waiting to ferry the evacuees to, presumably, some final destination. Most of the children, both girls and boys, were bussed away within the first few hours, to homes to which they had been allocated.
[There was a legal obligation on the part of the local townspeople to take evacuees into their homes, wherever it was deemed practicable]

Single children were able to be delivered to those homes which were within the town quite quickly [we were find out later] but siblings presented much more of a difficult problem to allocate, since there was an understandable reluctance on the part of the children to be split up. As a result, Bill and I had to wait until almost everyone else had moved away from the station, until eventually those who were left were bundled into the back of a lorry and were taken from house to house in an effort to find homes.

Sitting in the lorry, Bill and I watched the gradual disappearance of our fellow travellers with some concern as each child was taken off of the lorry, as it reached its assigned house, and then welcomed at the door by their new foster- parents.
This process carried on until only three of us remained on the lorry. Just Bill, myself and a Jewish boy by the name of Solly Newman. By this time it was quite dark. We seemed to be some way out of town, and the roads were unlit. As the journey continued the lorry made several stops, at which the lady in charge of the allocation of evacuees tried to persuade the householders to accept a child [or, hopefully, children]

Eventually, after what seemed to be an age, we made what turned out to be our final stop. Our lady companion left the lorry once again, knocked at the door. of what appeared to be, from what we could see in the gloom, a large house, and began talking earnestly with the woman who answered the door.. She finally came back with the news that she had succeeded in finding a place for both of us brothers, but not for Solly Newman. Our anxious first question to her was 鈥渨here are we?.鈥� to which her answer was, to our surprise, 鈥� Waterworks House. Get your things and come along inside to meet Mr. and Mrs. Webb鈥�!! With those words she made her goodbyes, got back into the lorry and continued on her weary way to seek a home for a lonely Solly!
We had, finally, reached our home for the indeterminate future !

Not surprisingly, since the dramatic events of the long day had by now completely tired us out Mrs Webb decided that further discussion could wait until the next morning, and we gratefully went to bed.

From the next day, September 3rd, life and events were to move very swiftly indeed. First of all there was a 鈥� getting to know鈥� talk with the Webb family [Which consisted Mr. and Mrs Webb and their fifteen year old son Billy] over breakfast, followed by a tour around the house and gardens with Billy.

It was whilst this was going on that Mr Webb called us into the house to hear on the wireless an important announcement by the Prime Minister, Mr. Neville Chamberlain.
It was, of course, his statement that Herr Hitler had refused to give the assurances demanded by Britain, that Germany would not attack Poland, and that, as a consequence, a state of war between Britain and Germany now existed.

The real seriousness of this news did not, I am afraid, register as of an immediate concern, and we carried on with our walk around the Waterworks. However, our level of concern was raised somewhat when, having joined Mr. Webb at the large water -filled filter beds, the air raid siren located actually at the premises suddenly began to wail loudly. And this only half an hour after the declaration of war!

Quite frankly, no one had the slightest idea what to do, since it was so totally unexpected. Thankfully, within minutes the dilemma was resolved for us by the鈥� All Clear鈥� sounding! What a day it had been- one I have vividly remembered all my life.

From hereon, life for Bill and myself began to settle into a new and exciting phase. Mr and Mrs Webb made us most welcome into their house and family, and Billy soon made it his business to familiarise us with the locality and with the surrounding area.
The house and works site was quite remote, and was situated some mile or so from Banbury This meant that there was little opportunity of meeting the local people -other than the few men who worked on the site, and the occasional visitor to the house. It also meant that there was along walk to school, which lay just on the outskirts of town.

The pleasant countryside around us proved to be so much of an improvement upon the grey streets and rows of town houses of Bow E3 London. Also absent were its smoking chimneys, the noise of traffic and factory hooters.! Instead, the area around the Works was in general, quiet and peaceful, with the silence only interrupted by the whine of the motors in the pump house.
The river Cherwell ran by the site, serving the waterworks, with the quietly-flowing upstream part running beneath the road bridge and thereafter to a horseshoe shaped weir. This became our favourite place in which to spend most of our time after school. [and homework!] largely due to the fact that there was very good fishing to be had, and the best of coaching from Billy- an expert fisherman.

After a short settling- in period, it was back to school. This was to be our second Central school. The teachers were mainly those who had been evacuated with us, making it easier for us to settle into the new surroundings, teachers and pupils
However, we were not the only 鈥渆vacuee school鈥� to descend upon the town of Banbury! In fact , looking back, I have often wondered how the townsfolk survived the initial trauma of the unexpected influx of cockney schoolboys, let off the parental leash for the first time, infiltrating their schools and town centres. Not surprisingly, there were numerous complaints of rowdyism and petty thieving coming from shopkeepers.
Indeed, on the very first visit I made to Banbury, just prior to the opening of the new schools, the Woolworths in the town centre was literally raided by a horde of evacuees from many parts of the country, or so it seemed. [including me I must admit !]. At that time, the layout of the merchandise in that particular store was in long stretches of trays laid out in front of the sales staff -- an arrangement in which it was almost impossible for the salesgirls to serve the dozens of school boys wishing to purchase, and at the same time keep an eye on those intent upon pilfering ! In an hour or so the place was looking a little bare, in the confectionary counter particularly!

Following this episode, the headmasters and teaching staff of the various schools, to their credit, took it upon themselves to assist the local authorities by applying a code of discipline outside, as well inside the schools-- including out of school hours.

As the autumn stretched into winter, the journey to school became colder. 1939/1940 was a particularly harsh winter, and the walking, partly across field footpaths, became more difficult. I remember that at times it snowed heavily and temperatures were low enough for the canal that we had to cross [By a swing bridge] to be frozen to a thickness of about a foot. However, we managed to get through the winter safely enough, although we were relieved when Spring eventually arrived.

And so the weeks and months at Banbury passed reasonably swiftly, with the odd visit to town giving us a break from the quiet isolation of Waterworks House.
The occasional letter from home kept us informed of Mum and Dad鈥檚 circumstances, as they developed, and it turned out that Dad, as an experienced builder, had been classified as a worker with a 鈥渞eserved occupation鈥� which resulted in him being directed to work on a military building at a site at Melksham in Wiltshire.
However, for Bill and myself the situation was to change quite dramatically, and rapidly, in June of 1940, when we both fell ill. This led very quickly to Dad being told of our circumstances. Upon hearing these he immediately set out to see us, and arrived by train from Melksham the following day.

Neither Bill or myself were party to the discussions that went on between Mr and Mrs Webb, and our father, but the result was that we were immediately taken away from Banbury, and taken back to London on the next available train.
So ended our eight month evacuation to Banbury, and to our temporary home with the Webb family.

As soon as we were back in London, and once more living in our old home in Tredegar Road, both of us were placed in quarantine and examined by doctors from the London County Council Medical Branch, following which we were required to attend a special Quarantine Unit, which was located, quite conveniently, close to home. This was essentially a collection of rooms with sulphur baths, and we were both subject to daily sessions of these foul-smelling baths, together with a daily annointing of equally foul-smelling creams, for three weeks until the illness cleared up.
We were then able to return our attention to the prospects of starting at our new schools. For both of us, the thought that this would be the third secondary school we would be attending within ten months was a particularly daunting one. Once again both of us would be facing up to a new curriculum, new teachers and new pupils. This time, however, we were facing up to these challenges in separate venues, since Bill had decided o pursue commercial subjects, whilst I wished to develop my interest in technical subjects.

During our time at Banbury, the war had had little effect upon our lives, and its passage and fortunes could only be followed through reports in the newspapers and on the wireless. This equally applied to London, where life had continued without any really apparent changes, other than the restrictions imposed upon by the needs of supporting the war effort, food rationing, blackouts, etc. and of course, the absence of large numbers of men, and women to a lesser degree, away on war service. This situation was to continue into July, during which month I began to settle down at my new school, Mansford Street Central School, located in a side street just off of Bethnal Green Road. Thankfully the end of July brought with it the relief of the summer holiday, something which I felt I needed after a rather traumatic year.

By this time, the war had moved into a much more threatening phase, with the attacks by the German Luftwaffe on the airfields of the southeast counties of England. Thus far, however, they had not infiltrated as far north as London. -----------But this was about to change!

It so happened that Dad had, as a consolation present for the experiences of Banbury etc, bought me a pair of roller skates, just the thing I had wanted as a means of getting around outdoors during the summer holiday, and I proceeded to make good use of them in the quiet streets around Tredegar Road.

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