大象传媒

Staffs County Council libraries, on behalf of the author, have submitted this story. The author fully understands the rules and regulations of the People's War website.

It was September 1939. I was seven going on for eight. Every month, same day, same time, we took the bus from Islington to the West End to see my Uncle "Fred" and my cousin Len. I don't think his real name was Fred but Mum had a thing about the name Fred which annoyed my Uncle somewhat. Cousin Len was a couple of years or so older than I. The highlight of the visit was to "play" but not touch the massive train layout in the loft. Uncle used to connect the wireless to a battery to provide background noise. That was the day war was declared.

Initially, apart from the excitement of gasmasks and the testing of the siren, we kids felt a degree of disappointment. It was not until workmen came with the "Anderson Shelter" that we sensed our lives were about to change.

Billy Wand, Rosy and I used to sit on top of the shelter and watch the Hurricanes and Spitfires fighting the enemy planes during the first of the daylight raids. We saw a Spitfire catch fire and the pilot parachute out. As he was descending a German fighter shot him. By this time the German fighter was quite low. One of our fighters dived down on the German with it's machine guns firing. The German seemed to lose control and crashed just down the road. Despite the bombs dropping some way away, we ran to the scene. The plane was more or less in one piece but surrounded by an angry crowd of men and women who were dragging the pilot out. Whether he was alive or not I don't know.

It was then that the war started in earnest. I had been out with my mother when the sirens started. We took refuge in the nearest shelter and waited for the "All Clear." We arrived home to find that a bomb had landed on the house. There were three families living in the house at the time and we all had to find alternative accommodation. We moved to my Auntie's house in Stoke Newington.

Shortly after this I was taken away by some official who tied a label to my lapel and with only my gasmask and a small knapsack, put on a train with hundreds of other kids, destination Oxford. It was the moment of boarding the train the full implications of what was happening sank in. I cried.

Arriving in Oxfordshire the train started stopping at every station unloading a few kids here and a load of kids there. By this time we were all terrified, screaming and crying. There did not appear to be much sympathy given by the adults accompanying us.

Then it was my turn. We were ordered off the train at Witney and herded onto a lorry.
Some kids were put on trailers pulled by tractors. Kids were taken off the transport at intervals, sometimes one, sometimes three or four. No regard was given for brothers and sisters or friends. I was one of the last to be taken off at a small village called Crawley. At no time was I addressed by my name. It was "You come here," or "Get over there." I was taken to a farm labourers (P.C. farm workers.)" cottage and pushed in accompanied by the words "Here's your evacuee. He's from London." That was it. He turned round and disappeared! The woman I came to know as Mrs Gough shouted after him words to the effect, "What am I supposed to do with him"?

I was led to an outside barn and told that that was where I was to stay and that I would be called when I was wanted. The Gough's had two boys, one about the same age as me and one a couple of years older. Harry Potter's cousin had nothing on this pair. They took every opportunity to taunt and physically bully, seemingly encouraged by their parents.

We were taken to school in Witney twice a week but with the school overflowing with evacuees I don't think we learnt much apart from trying to keep away from the locals. It seemed that most of us felt that not only were we not wanted, we were hated. "Those evacuees from London."

I had been with the Goughs about nine or ten long days. Life was hell. Bullied during the day and cast into the barn sleeping on straw and sacking during the night. It had been a particularly bad day. One of the Gough boys hit me on the head with what looked like a coconut shell. That night after dark I put together the few possessions that I had and ran away. My plan was to aim for Witney and follow the railway line to London! I had stolen some bread from the local baker the previous day so for the time being hunger was not a problem.

I arrived at Witney early dawn. My plan was to follow the line in the opposite direction from which we had arrived and logically that would take me to London. The first part of the plan worked well and I set off in what I thought to be the right direction. I remember passing a field of turnips or swede and stocking up. Problems arose however with the railway crossing points, which way? Left or right?

The first few days seemed to be going well. Water from streams and stealing food from village shops or scrumping whatever I could find. Sleeping was no problem. There were hayricks and barns which provided me with reasonably comfortable accommodation.

I think that I was on the run for nine or ten days but by now completely lost. Having little sense of distance I had expected to have arrived in London by now. Hunger was taking its toll together with a sense of despair. I remember I spotted a large town to my left and thought I was nearly home. Leaving the railway I spotted a small grocery store with some bread, rhubarb and other tempting goodies. Opening my rucksack I proceeded to take my pick. The next thing I knew was the grocer's hand on my arm. I expected to be beaten but was taken into the back room, given a hot drink and some bread and then questioned. The kindness was unexpected and I broke down and sobbed out my story.

The police were called and the next thing I knew was being taken back to London. It was some years later I was told by my mother that I had been missing for a few days before the authorities found out. Apparently the police had been informed by the school that I had not answered the register roll call and was missing. The Goughs had said nothing!!
During my absence Mum had moved in with Grandma Deighton.

漏 Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.