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3rd September 1939; I was seven years of age, and to be evacuated with my thirteen year old sister; Joan to Gowerton; South Wales, from Notre Dame Convent, Mount Pleasant, Liverpool.
My dad; Ted Cosgrove, from the then Garrick Hotel; Great Charlotte Street, came to the station. He seemed composed, but probably inwardly torn apart wondering whether he would see us again. Likewise, would we ever see our parents again?
The train journey seemed endless, war being declared ‘en-route!’ We arrived in Goverton and were issued with gas masks and a ‘bag of goodies’ each., then onto the Village Hall to be chosen by our guardians.
I can still remember- it was 10pm and I had not been chosen. A long day for a tired seven year old, and I sobbed my heart out. Everybody wanted Joan, but Joan had baggage: ME! A Mrs Anthony from Cymrofa, Gorwydd Road, rescued us and took us to her lovely home. We were very lucky- her daughter was ten years old. Elinor and her husband, a quiet, kind man, who later taught me my ‘times tables.’ We attended the ‘shared school’ part time, going to the local cinema on a Saturday to watch the ‘Zaro’ films. Sundays, the cinema became a church for our Sunday Mass. Everyone was kind, opening their hearts to us. A teacher was allocated a number of pupils for their guidance.
Our older sister; Kathleen, had now joined us, staying at a different address. Some of the mothers came down for a visit, and Mrs Henshaw brought me my favourite doll, which I greeted like a long lost baby.
Barbara Fishwick and myself were the only seven year olds, so we moved to a higher class. Our teacher; Miss Palmer, taught me double writing. She also prepared me for my first confession, which I made at Gorseignon, two miles from Gowerton.
We then returned home for Christmas. Our presents from the Anthonys, being a sliver bracelet fro me, and pale blue slippers for Joan. The local shop gave me a china cup and saucers, and engraved in gold: ‘A present from Gowerton.’
It was quite a re-union, when we three and my two brothers returned home.
Christmas Day arrived and I made my first Holy communion at St Nicholas’ Pro-Cathedral, Copperas Hill, wearing a white crepe dress and a ‘Lily of the Valley’, headdress and veil — I could not have my photograph taken because no photographers were open on Christmas Day, so I was the only one in the family with no momento of a special day.
Mum decided I was too young to be so far away from home, so I did not return to Gowerton with my sisters after Christmas.
After they finally came home, my sister Joan returned for two summers to spend her holidays with the Anthonys, but sadly she died when she was only seventeen, and the Anthonys sent roses to mum and dad on her anniversary. Such lovely people, leaving sweet memories.

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