- Contributed by听
- bravington
- People in story:听
- patricia Bravington
- Location of story:听
- Croydon and Devonshire
- Article ID:听
- A2277317
- Contributed on:听
- 08 February 2004
I was living with my Mother and four year old Brother in Woodside Green, Croydon when the Blitz began. Mum was ill with quinsy and I was taking care of her, even though I was only eight years old.
At my school nearby we had been having air raid drills for some time, being taught to fall to the ground, cover our heads and ears with our arms and then led to the shelters. They were just concrete sheds above ground and did not offer much in the way of protection.
One day I came home from school with a note for my Mother. Reading it made her very upset and she told me that I was to be evacuated with my school within a week. It was a terrible shock and even though we had spent most nights in the shelter on the green, I would rather have continued doing that. My Mother was sick and I did not want to leave her.
The day came in spite of my protestations that I was whisked away. A label was put on my blazer as was that of my class-mates. We joined a queue at the station and it was then I realised I had forgotten my lunch bag. I was afraid my Mum would leave the flat and bring it to me so I broke ranks and ran all the way back. I just caught Mum at the door, hugged her again and after further tears made my way back to the station. When I arrived the queue was smaller and the pupils I had stood with before were no longer there.
My teacher was cross with me for leaving and then told me that I should have been on the earlier train. Then she told me it was going to America and I was relieved that I had missed it.
We were taken to Braunton in North Devon. I was billeted with very kind people called Burnett. My Mother was not told where I was for several weeks and I was not allowed to write to her. The village school was too full of local children so we had not actual school room for nearly a year. Instead we studied in the fields in good weather and in halls in bad weather. We were also sent to clear the farmer's fields of ragwort and came home each evening with sore and bleeding hands. None of us complained, at least we were fed and looked after in comparative safety.
I spent eighteen months away from my family and after that returned to High Wycombe, my home town.
漏 Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.