大象传媒

This contribution to People鈥檚 War was received by the Action Desk at 大象传媒 Radio Norfolk and submitted to the website with the permission and on behalf of Mrs. Jean Hale
This is my story as recently related to my Granddaughter Megan who is now 16 and attends Norwich City College and to schoolchildren at Hellesdon Community School in Norwich.

My name is Jean Hale and to be evacuated as a child meant that you were sent away from a place where there was likely to be great danger, to a place of safety. My Brother was 3 years older than I was when we were evacuated from Charlton in London, well known for its football team and about a mile away from where The Millennium Dome is now situated.
Because we were only children we were not really aware that there was a War on and were too busy amusing ourselves, going to School or just playing, as children do. I realised things were beginning to look serious as a lot of the grown ups talked in low voices when we were around, and for reasons that weren鈥檛 really explained to us we were fitted with gas masks. My Brother was 11 and I was 8 and I鈥檓 afraid I made really rather a fuss when the nasty rubbery thing was put over my face because it smelt horrible. Babies and small children had special masks; babies were laid in a plastic dome with a skirt, then the dome was laced up and air pumped into the dome by an adult. Small children had masks that were coloured red and blue and made them look like Mickey Mouse and we were told that whatever happened if there was a War we would have to carry the masks in boxes with us at all times.
We were told, my Brother and myself, after War was declared that for our own safety we would be sent away, we would be going with other children from our school and if at all possible families would not be split up. When the day of departure arrived we all stood together on the platform at the railway station with our little suitcases or carrier bags with labels tied to our coats so that there would be no chance of anyone getting lost.
Many of us shed tears and I鈥檓 sure most of our parents did, but they tried to look brave for our sakes as we set forth in a noisy steam train on our great adventure into the unknown. That is what my Brother had told me it was going to be a great adventure.
We arrived at a place called Tonbridge, which is in the County of Kent and about 30 miles South of London. In a long crocodile children were taken from the railway station to a nearby school where we were asked to sit on the floor in the main hall. The teachers gave each child a carrier bag, whatever could be in these bags? They contained tinned food, corned beef, evaporated milk and some other items that I can no longer recall. Then the crocodile of children was taken on its slow and uncertain way, none of us knowing where we were going or what was going to happen next. All the children were lined up in pairs on the pavement outside the Drill Hall here complete strangers walked past us before deciding which children they would take into their homes. A nice lady and gentleman chose my brother and I and then some paperwork was completed, perhaps this was so our parents knew where we would be living.

We didn鈥檛 get to the house until late in the afternoon, by which time we were very tired after such a long day and hungry too. We were told that we could call the people Aunty Bertha and Uncle Jack. They asked us if we liked fish and chips and would like these for our supper. Of course we liked them, but I was convinced we were going to be poisoned; my little brother told me not to be so silly! Just before we all sat down for supper together there was knock at the door and a lady asked Aunty Bertha and Uncle Jack whether they would be willing to take in another child to which they agreed. We were very lucky, especially as not all children were as happily placed as we were.

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