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In August or September 1938 I was living in the St John’s Wood area of London. With the threat of war I went to stay with relatives who lived in Orpington, Kent. With hindsight this was not a good idea as Biggin Hill aerodrome was only a few miles away. A year later, at the end of August 1939, it was obvious that a war was likely.

As I was changing schools in the September, my parents thought I should be evacuated with my new school, Paddington and Maida Vale High School. All the pupils were asked to attend the school during the last week of August but as the building in Elgin Avenue was being decorated we had to use the Maida Vale ´óÏó´«Ã½ Recording Studios nearby. When we arrived we were asked to pair up with another pupil and as I knew no-one in my new class this was difficult. There was, however, another girl in a similar position so we teamed up and became good friends. During that week we were told what to expect should war be declared and the arrangements for evacuation. In this event we had to take adequate clothing in a small suitcase, wear an overcoat with a name label attached to it, carry a gas mask, and have a stamped addressed post-card to send home when we reached our billet.

On the morning of 2nd September 1939 we walked to Paddington Station where we boarded a train with two other schools, one St Marylebone Grammar School for Boys, the other a junior school from the area. When the train set off, no-one, not even the staff, knew how far we were to travel. We stopped at many major stations during the course of the journey and eventually the St Marylebone Grammar School for Boys disembarked at Redruth, Cornwall. The other school and us continued to Camborne where we were taken to the Camborne Girls’ Grammar School while the junior school went elsewhere.

In the school hall we were allotted billets. Nancy and I went to a couple with a very broad Cornish accent which we could not understand! Four days later, however, we were transferred to another billet with a man who was divorced and had a housekeeper who took care of us. Her family had a farm so plenty of cream was available. As the Girls’ Grammar School was not large, lessons were held in fields during September after which they were in the hall, sometimes several took place at the same time.

In February 1940 we travelled by train to Torquay. Nancy and I plus two other girls were billeted in a Boarding House and had meals in the same room as the paying guests. After twelve months, the others had all returned to London, so I was on my own. During the year I had become friendly with a girl from Torquay Girls’ Grammar School and was asked if I would like to go to live with her family. After being taken out to tea to see if I behaved (!) it was agreed that I should transfer. I was extremely happy here and remained with the family until 1943 when I returned to London to sit my Matric exam in 1944. As the Doodlebugs had started, I returned to Torquay after sitting the exam and found a job with a London Insurance Company. At the end of the war I returned to London to continue working for the company.

At the outbreak of war Torquay and the south-west had been considered a fairly safe haven. With the fall of France in 1940, however, there was only the English Channel between England and invasion. As a consequence the Germans sometimes flew in low over the coast, dropped some bombs and made off again (hit and run raids). The school forbid us to go on the beaches because of machine gunning. After the raids on both Exeter and Plymouth we could see the fires in the distance and, sometimes, if the Germans still had bombs on board, they jettisoned them before flying back across the Channel.

Many buildings in Torquay were used to help the war effort including The Palace Hotel near Anstey’s Cove which became an RAF Convalescent Home. To depict its use it had a large Red Cross painted on the roof which meant that it ought not to have been bombed; it was, however, with several casualties.

I have kept in contact with the Berry family with whom I lived in Torquay and see them regularly. Mrs Berry died at the age of 104 a few years ago. Her daughter who had been such a close friend was, tragically killed in a car accident in 1968 but my husband and I still see her older sister most months. I consider myself to have been a very lucky and happy evacuee.

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