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This story has been submitted to the People’s War site by a volunteer from CSV Berkshire on behalf of Mr Reginald Cliff and Mr Leslie Cliff and has been added to the site with their permission. Mr Reginald Cliff and Mr Leslie Cliff fully understands the site’s terms and conditions.

It was a cold morning in August 1939 my brother Les and I were waiting for the train to pull into platform 4 at Paddington Station; we were being evacuated to the Oxford. My mother and baby sister were there to see us off as were a lot of other mothers. We were standing there with our suitcases and gas marks with labels pinned to our coats and there were a lot of children crying, as they did not want to go and leave their mothers of course. We thought it was a great adventure. I was 7 and my brother Les was 6 years old, I remember we had some rhubarb and custard sweets 2ozs for 3p and lollipop’s for 1p.

We arrived at Oxford Station some hours later, then a coach took us to a village calling Tiddington 4 miles from Oxford City Centre. There were 8 boys and 4 girls in our group and were taken to a small hall where we were given our billets. My brother and I were taken by car to a big old house very near to a school; Les and I were both in the same class. The school had a large playground at the front and that was the only place we were allowed to go to.

We walked through a large garden and the lady escorting us knocked on the door which was answered by the owner and her daughter who unfortunately had what was called in those days a club foot.

When it was getting near we winter were set to work sawing wood with a double handle saw; my brother one end, me the other — we would saw wood before we went to school and again after school to keep 2 fires going.
We had to make our own beds and put our washing away. For breakfast we had milk and bread with marmite on. I cannot stand the smell of marmite even now and my brother Les no longer drinks milk. After about 8 months we threw the bread into a stream from our bedroom window, unfortunately after a time we were found out and got a good telling off.

I cannot remember why we had to leave there, but we were glad. I was sent to live with a family in Rose Hill about 3 miles from Oxford City Centre and they had 3 girls. After about 2 years I was again moved from just down the road to a very nice family and they had a son about a year older than me. They treated me as they did their own son and I was very happy there.

When the war ended I went home to find my mother had taken in a family; a father, 2 girls and also a boy who had lost their mother. This is what had to happen in those days, there were not the easy handouts you get today and I found settling in very hard.

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