大象传媒

My father worked in Chatham Dockyard just before the war. He joined the Nore Reserve of Royal Navy during the 1938 crisis and was recalled into the Navy. He was sent to Malta to accompany a ship back to UK and which developed a leak. My father identified the problem and the way to repair it to make the ship sea-worthy. He was awarded the British Empire medal for this. I attended Barnsole Road school. We were evacuated during the week before th declaration of war. Sunday 3rd September 1939. I can remember assembling at Gillingham Railway Station with a small suitcase and gas mask in its cardboard box with the other girls from school. I can remember feeling excited at the adventure and was not nervous at all. We were evacuated to Herne Bay on the North Kent Coast which seems bizarre now as the Channel is so narrow there. But at least it was away from Chatham Dockyard. I remember waiting to be chosen by someone, as was onely until I was taken to live at a boarding house with some of the teachers and another girl with whom I got into mischief! We had no school to attend, so our lessons were taken in the shelters on the promenade. I learned to roller skate there. I can remember my Mum and Dad, inuniform, visiting me on the 3rd September and hearing the broadcast my Mr Chamberlain, declaring outbreak of war. I was brought home by the first Christmas. An Anderson shelter was built at the bottom of the garden to which we scuttled when the Air Raid warnings sounded, with my golden cocker spaniel chum, leading the way. My Mum and much older sister Hazel must have been anxious but they made it a light hearted time for me, bless them. Dad was away at sea but in 1940 he was sent to HMS Cyclops, a submarine depot ship. Cyclops was moored in Rothesay Bay, Isle of Bute, Scotland, and our submarines, which were fighting the war of the Atlantic came in for repairs and respite. Dad was a diver - all the old fashioned gear - and used to go beneath the vessels to repair the damage below the waterline. My mother and I went to Rothesay for some time, Dad went "native" as the saying went, coming ashore on the liberty boat to join us in various "digs". We had one large room in a house with beds in the wall. I played with children of other families, watching the mothers comb out the nits in their hair! So we were off to another lodging! I attended school at Rothesay academy in the Junior School, although I had passed the 11+ exam at home, to attend Chatham Grammar School. I was so unhappy becaure my male teacher hated the English and never lost a chance to single me out for sarcasm. The one advantage having a male teacher wass that he would forbear to use the tawse, strap, on the girls. His son was in the class and he strapped him unmercifully, this was a shock to me, I had never seen a strap or the cane used in my school. We returned home top Gillingham, my Grammar school had been evacuated to Wales, so I had part-time schooling at Fort Pitt Technical School, Chatham where we used tunnels built by the 18th Century French prisoners of war as Air Raid shelters and continued lessons there. Our teachers were lederly, recalled after redtirement; worried ladies, whose temper was short and their treatment of us harsh. Board rubbers were thrown at us by the impatient French teacher! Eventually, the Grammar school was re-opened as people adjusted to life at war, and full time education began. My mother went to work in the office of a facotry and I would return from school, a long walk or cycle ride, cold and often wet, to light the fire. My sister was working in London. She failed to be a WRN becaure of poor hearing. Dad would come home on occasional leave, to our delight. I was a Girl Guide and we ha many marches for Empire Day

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