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15 October 2014
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Evacuation

by EvacJill

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Archive List > Childhood and Evacuation

Contributed by听
EvacJill
People in story:听
Jill Bennett/EvacJill
Location of story:听
Marton in Cleveland
Article ID:听
A2171026
Contributed on:听
03 January 2004

I was evacuated with Low Fell WSchool in Gateshead to Marton in Cleveland at the beginning of the war. My mother came along too as a helper. We all met at school and when divided into groups of six we set off for the station all with labels attached to our coats and with some clothes and our gas masks as well as some food. After a while we found ourselves at Ormsby Station - I remember that temporary toilets had been set up - just pails with seats on them in compartments made of sacking. We were taken to the village hall where we waited to be chosen by the residents who had agreed to have an evacuee. I have a feeling that we were given a bun and a drink.

One lady came to say that she was prepared to take six boys, but eventually when my mother told her she had six girls in her group, and that she was prepared to stay too, the lady, who was called Mrs Dickie, agreed to take us. We arrived at what seemed to us to be a huge house in its own grounds, large garden at the front with a drive up each side, and small copse of trees on each side of the gate. The back garden seemed just as big, mostly a kitchen garden, and it was all looked after by a gardener. Inside there were two large reception rooms and a smaller study, as well as a large kitchen and scullery. Upstairs there seemed to be many bedrooms and then two or three more in the attic. Mr Dickie was a retired surgeon who had gone back to work at the hospital to allow the younger men to go to war; there was also a live-in maid and a cook who came in very early each morning, leaving after the evening meal had been served - a much grander lifestyle that any of us had been used to.

But we were all very well treated. I slept in a small room with my mother; Jean slept in the main bedroom with Mrs Dickie, on twin beds; Eva and Muriel slept in the day mursery and Evelyn and Edith slept in the night nursery. We lived most of the time in the kitchen, eating there with the staff, though my mother had her evening meal in the dining room with Mr and Mrs Dickie after we had gone to bed, and often sat with them in the evening. We were given a bath every night, something none of us were uswed to. As the youngest, I went up first, then when I was ready to get out of the bath my mother would ring the bell and the next girl would go up, until we were all ready for bed. On Hair Nights the maid helped in order to get the job done more quickly.

I cannot ever remember seeing a newspaper, and we were only allowed to listen to Children's Hour - if the staff wanted to read papers or listen to the wireless they had to do it when we were not there. We were well fed, though I do remember Jean wanting to know why we could not have fish and chips for supper - obviously what she was used to at home! On Sundays we all had lunch in the Dining Room, two of us taking it in turn to choose the china, glassed, and napkins to be used. I suppose it was their way of trying to gfive us a bit of social training.

Mr Dickie used to give us each sixpence pocket money every Saturday morning (2 1/2p in present day money) and we had small books to keep account of how it was spent. We had to put at least 2d into war savings, and 1d for Sunday School collection, and then show how we had spent the other 3d. I remember going carol singing outside the study window at Christmas, and we were given extra money then. Actually my father was invited to stay for a few days then to be with my mother.

At first we did not go to the village school, since there was not room, and we had lessons in the village hall from the teachers who had come with us, or in the park when it was fine. But quite a few children soon went home and so did the teachers, so we ended up in the school. It was a one-room affair, with the little children at one end and the bigger ones at the other. I quite enjoyed it - we were taught to knit on four needles, and I knit what I was told was an egg cosy!

Soon the conker season arrived, and we were all thrilled to find them actually in the garden, as well as all down the road and we must have collected thousands between us. We had games with them, and made them into furniture with pins and wool,until they were all over the house. None of us wanted to part with them, but eventually something had to be done. One of the sons was at home by then - he was a missionary whom we called Father William, and he offered to have a burial service for them. This must have appealed to us - I remember we all trouped down the drive with boxes of conkers to where the gardener had dug a big hole. We sang a hymn and Father William said a prayer. We all said the Lord's Prayer, then put the boxes in the hole - very impressive. Jean and I went back to see Mrs Dickie some years later and there were lots of small chestnut trees growing in the copse - I wonder if they are still there!

Just after Christmas Muriel took ill, and the other son, who was a doctor on leave at the time, diagnosed diptheria, so she was rushed off to hospital and we were all given three more weeks off school. We thought this was wonderful as the snow had fallen and was deep. The gardener had built us a huge sledge (as well as a pair of stilts) and we had a grand time in the field next to the house, and we did not want Muriel to get better. When she came out of hospital her parents took her home as they had been very worried about her.

Actually Marton was not very sensible place to be evacuated to, being so close to Middlesbrough and the steel works. We spent many hours under the stairs each night because of air raids, so my mother began to look for somewhere safer for me to stay and eventually I went to Bellingham in Northumberland. She then found a place for Jean, and then Edith, and the rest went home. And that was the end of our time at Marton.

I did go back more than once, and never lost touch with Mrs Dickie, who continued to take a great interest in us all until she died in her late 80's. All in all, I feel that staying there had quite an influence on us all, and I for one enjoyed it, and will never forget my time there. I sometimes feel that I would like to go back to see what changes have been made to the village - perhaps one day!

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