大象传媒

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There was total confusion at the station. It seemed to me, a mere eight year old, that you boarded the first carriage that wasn't full to capacity, and hope for the best.

Mum had somehow obtained some vouchers. I think she queued up twice, which entitled us to a drink and some soup with bread. I had my gasmask and rucksack. Mum had a large case and a small carrier bag. The train carriages were divided into autonomous eight person compartments each with separate doors. There were more than eight adults with children in ours.

As soon as the carriages were full we set off full steam ahead. Destination unknown. Mum said it was a couple of hours travelling but it felt twice as much to me, cooped up in the overcrowded smelly carriage. Many of us had not had a chance to wash or dust down and most of the adults were smoking. It was unfashionable not to smoke in those days.

Ultimately sometime in the late afternoon we arrived at Northampton Station. Not having had a drink or eaten we expected a soup kitchen or at least water to drink. The welcoming committee did not look particularly welcoming. Memories of my previous experience as an evacuee came flooding back. At least this time I had my Mum with me. We were made to form a queue near the exit of the station. A very officious official counted down probably fifteen to twenty bodies then using his arm as a barrier commanded them to go outside. There were some who wanted to stay with their friends or others that they had met on the train journey. No chance. You are an evacuee and you will do what I tell you.

Our turn came and we were directed outside to board one of the many army trucks. Seating was limited so one had to make the best of it.

Off we went, following the route of Queen Eleanor, first stop Hardingstone where some were dropped off. Next stop Hackelton and Piddington where the rest were dropped off. But not us. Three or four miles to an outpost called Horton accompanied by a policeman who boarded at Piddington. At least he was polite but distant. We stopped at a farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. The policeman helped Mum out of the back of the lorry then lifted me out. Taking my hand he led us to the farmhouse. He knocked on the door several times. Getting no response he shouted to the occupier to open the door. The door opened just enough to see a stout woman glaring at us. "I'm not having them here" she shouted, pointing to us. "There's enough evacuees here already." Comments were made about dirty Londoners and thieves. She attempted to slam the door on us but was prevented by the policeman's boot. Putting his weight behind the door, he opened it enough to force us in.

My mother was a somewhat domineering person who also had a bit of a temper. All hell erupted, this did not particularly bode good tidings for us. Probably the shouting had reached the farmer who, when he appeared, seemed to take a more reasonable approach but his wife insisted that she would not have us in the house.

I can't remember their names so will call them Mr and Mrs Farmer. Mr Farmer quietly led us both outside to a small barn. A feeling of deja vue came over me. There was however a small single bed with covers, and a washbasin. In those days most toilets were outside. An indoor toilet was an extreme luxury, particularly in the rural areas.

My mother was instructed to fetch our food at specific times and we ate it in the barn. Mother was expected to help out on the farm and do domestic work as required. I was also expected to help with duties about the farm when I was not at school.

The next day the policeman that had brought us to the farm arrived in a small van to take us to Hackelton. The purpose being to register at the Primary School and to have our identity documentation checked. We were taken to the village hall where there was a pile of clothing and wellingtons laid out. When our documentation had been checked, we were instructed to sort out a pair of shoes, some clothing and a pair of wellingtons. It was unfortunate that we arrived rather late and all the best garments had been taken. I finished up with wellingtons of different sizes and both left footed. Fortunately, Northampton being a shoe manufacturing town, the quality of the shoes was not too bad despite being rejects.

We were taken back to the farm by the policeman in his little van only to find the whole place locked up and no sign of life anywhere. Even the barn door where we were supposed to live was locked. Without any hesitation the policeman put his shoulder to the door and forced it open. When he left he reassured us that he would be back in the morning to give Mr and Mrs Farmer a piece of his mind. It transpired that Mr Farmer was not aware that his wife had locked us out of the barn. I remember a holy row between the Farmers when the policeman came and checked up on us the next morning.

The policeman turned out to be quite a nice and friendly man and promised to keep an eye on us. Mr Farmer turned out to have a bark much louder than his bite, especially when out of sight of Mrs Farmer. He used to let me ride the ponies and take me for rides on the tractor.

There was a R.A.F. airfield close by, Brafield, where pilots were trained on Tiger Moths. In my spare time I used to spend many a happy hour watching the planes doing circuits etc. Some of the airmen got to know me and used to ask me to do little errands for them like taking letters to their girlfriends in the village. In return they sometimes used to let me sit in the cockpit of a Tiger Moth and pretend to fly.

It was a reasonably happy few months for me apart from school where most of the evacuees were bullied by the local kids and sometimes by some of the staff members. My peers who were living in the village appeared to be faring much worse than me.

Relationships with the Farmers however seemed to be getting from bad to worse with daily arguments. My Mum was at her wits end when she discovered on the "Grape Vine" that a small cottage had become vacant in a little hamlet called Preston Deanery which was some five or six miles or so away.

So without further ado Mum "borrowed a bike" from the barn and sought out our friendly village policeman.

Within two or three days, thanks to the policeman's help, we were installed in a semi-detached cottage miles from anywhere.

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