大象传媒

This story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War site by Elizabeth Perez of Stockport Libraries on behalf of Hilda Burns and has been added to the site with her permission. Mrs Burns fully understands the site鈥檚 terms and conditions.

When the war started in September 1939, I was six years old. The children from my school, Heald Place Primary, were evacuated to Blackpool. My cousin who lived in Chorlton on Medlock went to Congleton, we thought that was another country. Two of my cousins lived in Burnage, and one worked at Renolds. Because my sister was only four, my Mother came to Blackpool with us. We had to line up in the playground and we were given gas masks. Mine slipped off my shoulder as we were heading for the bus, some one shouted "Don't lose that, you've got to keep that with you." We went on a fleet of buses to Blackpool.

We were trooped round the streets trying to find someone who would put up us three children plus our Mother, we were one of the last to find somewhere. We went to Blackpool School in the mornings and spent the afternoons on the beach, while the Blackpool chidlren had their lessons. We lived with a couple. She taught us how to fold paper in the shape of a helix to light the fire and she would sing "The grand old Duke of York" to us, using the poker as a baton.

We went back to Rusholme in Manchester, as it all went quiet. My Father worked in a warehouse in Whitworth Street and he had to do ARP duties. Normally we slept in the Anderson Shelter in the back garden. Mother had made us siren suits. This particular day she had said to go and show Grandma, who lived next door but one, we must have looked like the three bears. Me being the tomboy, I put my foot in the grid drain and got the leg of the siren suit wet so I couldn't sleep in it that night.

On what turned out to be the worst night of the Manchester Blitz, Dad had a premonition. He was on warden duty. He didn't want us to stay in the Shelter, so he took us right into the city centre. We stayed in the warehouse, but when it got really bad we had to go in the shelter below the ground. He and mother had tin hats, we hadn't. I didn't know whether to go with my Mum and sister ahead or stay with my Dad and other sister. I looked across the road and saw a man leaning against the lamppost, which wasn't lit, reading the paper by the light of the fires. That just stuck in my mind. I don't suppose there had been many children in the shelter as it was in the city centre; when we arrived, they started singing songs to keep us amused. We caught the bus to go back to Rusholme. We met our uncle, who was a fireman, his face was all smoke stained, leaning on his bike and he said you'd better get back home quick, the Anderson Shelter had been flooded by the landmine that had dropped close by. So Dad's premonition had come true.

So we decided to go to New Mills to our Auntie, who was single, she was the matron of the hospital in LowLeighton New Mills. Mother had made a rice pudding the day before which she didn't want to leave behind. We were waiting for a bus when a coal lorry pulled up and the driver offered a lift to anybody, where were we going? We asked him where he was going - Lowleighton, New Mills! As we climbed aboard the rice pudding was spilt!

Sixteen of us went to her tiny cottage, two up two down. We slept on mattresses on the floor. The rest went back after The Blitz, but we stayed as my Dad didn't want to go back after what had happened. When we said at school that we were from Rusholme, they thought we meant Russia.

We went back every three or four weeks to Manchester to visit our grandparents. Sometimes the trains were stopped when there were air raids so we played games in the carriages. Walking across Piccadilly Gardens we saw all the hoses from the fire engines as Manchester was ablaze every night. My Uncle was killed putting out a fire on Portland street, he was on his ladder when he was machine-gunned up his arm and across his chest. He was taken to the Infirmary, where one of the nurses recognised him and cleaned him up before my Auntie Hilda went to identify him. We children weren't told this until afterwards.

There were barrage balloons on Platt Fields, which we thought looked like monsters because they were partly inflated. We played in Platt Fields and I learnt to row on the boating Lake. Before the war, all our family went to the band concerts in the Park, sitting on the grass and eating our picnic. I used to pretend I lived in Platt Hall with its magnificent white marble staircase.

Dad carreid on working in Manchester, he would go in by train, and we stayed in New Mills.
A bomb dropped in New Mills and my Dad said the Germans had followed us! A pair of semis were destroyed in Lowleighton, a girl playing the piano and the man next door were killed. Mother and Dad had gone to the cinema, so Margaret the eldest had taken us down into the cellar. Mother and Dad came home and were very pleased with her.

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