大象传媒

Before Christmas we decided it would be a wonderful gesture to give my parents their own Christmas tree!! Jean, my sister and Brian duly set off one dull cold December Saturday afternoon to cycle to a nearby wood and find suitable tree. They took one of dad鈥檚 spades and soon returned with a small tree 鈥� and Dad鈥檚 spade! We somehow smuggled it into the house and his it, with her permission behind the wardrobe across the corner of my aunts bedroom. I am sure mother must have known about it but she never said anything! We decorated the tree with home made decorations 鈥� festooned it and on Christmas morning at 3.30 am we could contain ourselves no longer. We trundled the tree to my parent鈥檚 bedroom, knocked the door and started singing 鈥榳e wish you a merry Christmas鈥�. My father opened the door and we held our breath waiting to see what would happen! Mum and dad expressed their delight and thanks and suggest we could all go back to sleep for a while, and that was the intention but of course the excitement overcame us all and we stayed awake looking at the contents of our Christmas pillow cases which 鈥楩ather Christmas鈥� brought us and which we found at the bottom of our beds. My parents traditionally decorated the house only after we had gone to bed on Christmas eve, this of course added greatly to our excitement and when we were eventually allowed to get dressed it was to find my mother had been up since five o-clock getting the pudding on and preparing the dinner. We went downstairs to be greeted by the wonderful sight of a marvellously decorated and candlelit tree. The sitting room festooned with decorations and a lovely fire burning merrily in the tiled fireplace, sending dancing flickers of light in the early morning across the ceiling adding to the magic of the moment鈥� breakfast on Christmas morning was always the same in our house, as indeed it was for many years afterwards, until my parents dies. Grapefruit with bread and butter, ham and fried eggs and thrill of thrills then, coffee to drink. I believe that three evacuees had not tasted coffee and so that was a new experience for them! For us three it was a very special drink for breakfast 鈥� we usually had milk or weak tea. After breakfast, we children washed up, sang carols and looked at the presents 鈥楩ather Christmas鈥� had brought us. The older children helped prepare the vegetables and I had to make sure the coal fires were kept alight in the dining room and the sitting room, under the supervision of my father. Then Lunch!! What excitement! Father had been given chicken and I remember pheasants by the farmer for whom he worked and mother cooked both 鈥� chicken for the children and pheasants for the adults, and on this occasion we all ate together, wearing the hats we found inside our crackers after reading our the riddles we discovered there too. The dining room table could be extended and white table cloths were laid with paper serviettes. The adults drank cider and we children had dome made lemon juice which was a luxury. Mother had made the Christmas puddings two months before and they and been hung in their cloths in the pantry鈥� I can well remember the smell of the puddings being boiled on Christmas morning, on the range, which was where mother cooked this wonderful feast. As last, after lunch we were allowed in to the sitting room, where as if by magic, mounds of parcels had been laid under the tree. I believe my father had done this whilst we were washing our hands for the meal. What loving care we were shown. We then played with our games and toys until tea time when more delights 鈥� the Christmas cake was laid on the table We had to have bread and butter first, followed by fruit salad and jelly and then the cake. The candles were lit on the cake and we sang another carol as mother ceremoniously cut into the icing. As the usual remarks from the adults were complimentary 鈥� grandma said, 鈥淯mm Ruby鈥� (my mother鈥檚 name) 鈥淏etter than ever this year鈥� My aunt remarked 鈥淗ow did you manage to get all the fruit and such a liberal helping of rum too鈥�.
Some few years after this first wartime Christmas, my father told me aunt and uncle had sent me a gun that fired metal slugs for a Christmas present. He had tried it out and found he gun powerful enough to embed the pellets into the sitting room door so they were removed and replaced by matches that had their heads removed!! I can remember discovering the gun had 鈥榤ade in Japan鈥� printed on the bottom of it 鈥� a grim warning perhaps for what was to follow in 1942, when it was found British guns meant to defend Singapore against attack had all been cemented into the ground, pointing towards Indonesia and not Malaya from the Japanese army advanced with great speed.
For us children this Christmas was just heaven! My father was a very good gardener and the cake was always preceded by newly dug and cleaned celery. He resisted my mother鈥檚 request for celery until after the first frost 鈥� and indeed Brussels sprouts too, so that was another joy. By now it was quite dark outside and the curtains were drawn against the darkness. After washing up we all went into the sitting room. The candles were lit on the tree again and we children performed a nativity play for the adults 鈥� our way of saying thank you to them. The evacuee鈥檚 parents had given us a combined present of monopoly. So setting it up on the dining room table afterwards we played a game 鈥� or at least that was the intention 鈥� but I cannot remember it very well because I fell asleep and the next thing I knew it was boxing day!!
After breakfast and lunch which was cold meat, baked potatoes and another Christmas pudding we all went for a walk down to the sea front. A brisk walk in the winter chills and then home for tea!
My parents had put every effort that they could into making this a memorable Christmas 鈥� especially for us six children and it has remained a very happy memory ever since and I know the evacuees remember it too!! For us it was full of excitement 鈥� but for many people on the continent, already under the thumb of Hitler, it must have been horrendous.
January 1940 saw a huge snowfall and it was so deep in Deal that nothing could move. Since Mother relied on the coal range, father made three sledges and we towed them off to the coal yard by the station, returning home with enough coal to keep us warm for several weeks and very warm with the exercise.
St that time very few houses had central heating. I was friendly with the son of the headmaster at my school and I was invited there for tea. I remember coming home and telling everyone about this wonderful invention that made the whole house warm. The radiators were huge and black!
Our house had coal fires and the frost created wonderful fern-like patterns in the windows, even though there was a small fire burning in almost every room. The house was lit by gas and I can remember the plop as it was put off in the bedroom after mother had read us a bedtime story 鈥� She even made time for that almost every day!! That winter we had a snowball fight in the side of the road beside the house. This became almost a gang fight and mother had to come and separate us all. It must have been an inert form of jealousy, coming to the surface that created it, but it was difficult to maintain the relationship on the same level after that, although I do remember clinging to the boy who shared the bed with me and crying with shame at what had happened, telling to him that I still liked him.
A retired vicar lived on the opposite side of our small road, in a large rambling house surrounded by bay trees and laurels. He came to see my mother one day and asked if he could give us a magic lantern show one winter鈥檚 night. My mother agreed and so over we trooped to find other children already gathered there. We were treated to a show of slides illustrating Baden Powell鈥檚 success in the Boer war 鈥� he was shown standing aloft, with the union jack held in his hand, waving in the wind. Very patriotic!! Only later did we discover that the retired vicar was Baden Powell鈥檚 brother!!!
Later still, I discovered myself whilst teaching in Zambia that it was the British who first used concentration camps. The Boers were herded into them in their hundreds and they lived in the in very poor conditions 鈥� something that the Boers have never forgotten. I became friendly with a South African of Austrian extraction and he had a doeskin waistcoat that he often wore, that had been taken from the body of a British soldier who had strayed into the family鈥檚 Kraal. They told the soldier to ride off and that they would give him a few minutes start and then they would chase after him. If they caught him he would be shot. My friends showed me the bullet hole in the waistcoat, there in his house in the middle of the African bush! I felt a shiver travel down my back but 鈥� that was war!

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