大象传媒

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I was a schoolgirl when the war was on. My young cousin was evacuated out to us to Okehampton, from her home in Plymouth. At weekends we returned to Plymouth for her to visit her parents as her brothers were in the R.A.F. and they didn鈥檛 get to see their children much. The older brother, Geoffrey, a pilot on the Lancaster bombers was sadly was killed.

On one of the Plymouth visits we were caught out in a bombing raid whilst going to the shops. An elderly lady was blown right through the window of one of the shops, just in front of us! That night the barrage balloons caught fire and the heavy chains fell onto some houses. As youngsters we were very excited by all this, we didn鈥檛 feel any fear at all!

Another time I remember I was in a concert for the troops in Okehampton. The troops comprised of Poles, Canadians, Americans and British. One particular lady, well into her 70's and not terribly beautiful, sang 'One day my prince will come' - the troops were hysterical. She was asked to sing it over and over again for them, each time the roof almost came off with the stamping of feet and clapping.

I read stories to the evacuees who arrived in our market hall and were waiting to be claimed by local families. As I wasn鈥檛 at all shy, one day I broke into singing and tap dancing for them. There they sat, with their labels on, laughing and clapping, their families far away. Unbeknownst to me, my future husband was a little boy in the Colchester area wearing a similar label. I feel rather guilty that my war was a fun one - the Americans providing us with lovely doughnuts, the like of which I have never eaten since - because at that same time, little innocent Anne Frank was in a concentration camp, suffering terribly, and she died just before the war ended.

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