大象传媒

This story was submitted by Miss Hoyland of Burntwood School on behalf of Jean Pearson of the Silver Circle Reading Group, Wandsworth Library.

I was evacuated on September 1st 1939 at the age of 6 years.

I don't remember the outward journey from Waterloo Station (I lived at Blackfriars at the time), but I do remember arriving at Yeoville in Somerset. I had a friend called Annie and we had been told to stay with each other and not to be separated. I remember standing at the top of the road (Sydling Street in Yeoville) and a lady came along and said she would 'take me'. I remember saying that my mum said that Annie and I had to stay together so the lady agreed to take us both.

The family had a daughter of their own called Barbara. They were quite religious and we had to go to church and Sunday School but I didn't mind. They were a good family but I was happy when I knew that I was coming back to London after only 6 months. As I recall there had not been any serious air raids at that point.

However in 1941 my father was going into the army and friends were giving him a going away party. Unfortunately that evening a bomb landed on Southwark Bridge and brought down the building we were in. Bricks and Glass were flying about, the place was in darkness and I remember my mother yelling for me in the darkness. When she found me I told her that my leg was all wet and she said "don't worry, you've wet yourself with fright". However when we got outside the building and there was light from the fires burning we realised that the 'wet' I felt on my legs was blood.

My knee was badly gashed and was pouring with blood. I was taken, with my father, to Walford Road for medical attention and eventually I was sent to St. Peter's Hospital in Chertsey and was there for the next nine weeks.

During those nine weeks, my father went into the army. I was in hospital in Chertsey and my mother was staying with her mother as we had been 'blasted' out of the flat. When she returned it had been looted. It must have been a terrible time for her when I think back on it.

After that we moved to a house in Kennington and my father had been invalided out of the army. We had an Anderson Shelter in the garden which my father fitted out and made comfortable, covered the top with soil and in the Summer it looked very pretty covered with flowers. As everybody did in those days you 'grew you own' veg. and we had a reasonable selection of potatoes, beans, etc.

Thankfully we all survived the war.

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