- Contributed by听
- A7431347
- People in story:听
- Yvonne Whitting
- Location of story:听
- Folkestone
- Background to story:听
- Civilian
- Article ID:听
- A4494215
- Contributed on:听
- 20 July 2005
This is a tale about the kindness of strangers.
We lived near the harbour in Folkestone -- I was about twelve at the time. Trains went from the harbour to the main line near to our home, carrying the troops who had been evacuated from Dunkirk.
I always remember how my father put a shovel on the end of a broom, and loaded them up with chocolate and cigarettes. He'd use this to pass them to the soldiers who would hang out of the windows, blooded. "Tell my wife I'm all right," one man who lived in Folkestone said.
I was evacuated. I was the biggest child, but my mother says I was still crying the loudest as the train took us to Wales. I came back in 1943, at the age of 16. I became a Civil Servant.
THIS STORY HAS BEEN ADDED TO THE PEOPLE'S WAR WEBSITE BY JOHN YOUNG OF 大象传媒 SOUTH EAST TODAY ON BEHALF OF YVONNE WHITTING. IT HAS BEEN ADDED WITH HER PERMISSION. SHE UNDERSTANDS THE SITE'S TERMS AND CONDITIONS.
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