- Contributed by听
- RSVP Barnet
- People in story:听
- Pat Green
- Location of story:听
- East Finchley
- Background to story:听
- Civilian
- Article ID:听
- A8776812
- Contributed on:听
- 23 January 2006
Pat Green
I was 5 when the war began. I was living with my two older brothers and sister in East Finchley and had just started school. Although an air-raid shelter was built in the field next to the school, at first nothing seemed to change. We only really began to notice the war when the bombing started; we were issued with gasmasks, blackout was fixed to the windows and air raid sirens were always going off. The children were led across the field into the shelter, where we waited for our mums to collect us. Once the Blitz started, we didn鈥檛 go to school, but got together each day in groups of 5 or 6 children in one of the parents鈥 homes.
When the war escalated, my parents decided to send me (but not the other children) to my mum鈥檚 sister in Canada, but I had the measles and by the time I had recovered some of the ships going to Canada had been torpedoed and so my parents decided I shouldn鈥檛 go.
Much later, when I was about 9, I was sent to a distant relative in Stanley, near Wakefield, who had a daughter slightly older than me. It wasn鈥檛 a very big house 鈥 2 bedrooms I think, and I had to share one with the daughter, who used to kick me out of bed. The father worked in the rhubarb sheds and the mother was a nurse. One day she took me to see the hospital where she worked, which had gone over to taking war casualties; I remember that all the men wore blue suits, white shirts and red ties. Because she was so busy I was left in charge of Marjorie the daughter who I think resented me. I didn鈥檛 get on with her.
It was an unhappy time for me. I was homesick and the only contact I had with my parents was by letter, which wasn鈥檛 very often. I was sent to the local school where there was only one other evacuee, another Pat from London. We were both bullied by the local children because of our 鈥榝unny accents鈥. The teachers didn鈥檛 protect us; they didn鈥檛 take any interest in the evacuees.
Although we could listen to the wireless, we weren鈥檛 really aware of what was happening in London, so we weren鈥檛 worried about our families. There was no bombing anywhere near Stanley, although we still took precautions such as blacking out the windows and putting taped XXXs across them to prevent the glass shattering if there was an explosion.
It was a farming area and there was no shortage of food. One day the mother asked me if I liked fishcakes. I thought of the ones my mother made and said yes; but when she put them on the table they were bright orange, not homemade, as I was used to. I took a bite and then said I couldn鈥檛 eat them. 鈥淵ou will鈥 she said and served them up again for the next 3 days.
I remember taking my 11-plus exam there with the other Pat, the 2 of us alone in a big room. For some reason the teacher broke the seal of the envelope containing the exam papers and gave us each half.
At last VE day came and everyone on the estate turned on their lights and opened their curtains. We went outside and looked down the hill at the extraordinary sight of the whole town lit up for the first time in 6 years. Soon after that I came home to London and started at the Alder School in East Finchley (since pulled down). The school had an arrangement with a school in New Zealand and each child was given the name of a pupil there as a pen pal. I wrote to mine and she sent me a bar of Lux Toilet soap, which was a great luxury then, because she had heard that we still had rationing.
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