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The main memory I have of the war was when the doodlebug came over our house in First Avenue, it took all the tiles off our roof and tipped down and landed in Sunnymead Avenue. My mother had heard the siren go off and had got my sister down to the Anderson shelter in the garden. When she came back indoors the bomb had landed and she had to climb over the front door, which was half way up the stairs to get to my bedroom. When she got to my bedroom she saw one of your arms sticking out of rubble, you had in fact, been buried alive!! She pulled all the rubble off, as quickly as she could and discovered that there was not a scratch on me. I don’t remember any of this, except when she got me out, seeing the flames from Sunnymead Avenue and being worried about the blackout.

The next day, due to the fact of being buried alive, I suffered my first asthma attack, which continued through my childhood.

Weeks later my mother sent me to school telling me that if the siren went before I got over West Ewell Railway Station hill, I was to go home — if I was the other side of the hill, then to go on to school. I was walking up the station hill and saw people stopping and looking up to the sky, I hadn’t heard the siren, as I had wooden soled shoes on. When I looked up into the sky I could see planes, English and German planes shooting at each other, black puffs of smoke in the sky and I thought this was very exciting. My mother run up the hill behind me and very angrily dragged me back home.

It was after this incident that most children from West Ewell were evacuated. We were assembled at West Ewell Station, with a few belongings and labels had been tied on to our coats. I was with my sister Phyllis, we said goodbye to our mother and got on the train with the other children. I was five years old and my sister Phyllis was ten. As she was an older child she was put in charge of all the children in our carriage. We were taken to Weybridge in Cornwall and taken into a large shed. All the children had to stand around the perimeter of the shed and adults came to look at us, in view of taking us into their homes. I remember one boy had a note hung round his neck, say ‘bed-wetter’ and I felt very sorry for him. My sister and I were taken in by a Mr and Mrs Richardson, who were quite nice, but my health was not good because of the asthma and after six months my mother was sent for, as they thought I was dying. My mother came and as soon as she saw my sister and myself she said that she was taking us back home to West Ewell. It was snowing at the time, when we got on the train it was very cold. The driver had been informed that there was a sick child on board, because of this the heating in the train was switched on, so everybody benefited. They also sent down some warmed milk for me.

When my mother got us home she took me to see our doctor, he said I looked like something out of Belson, my ill health continued throughout my childhood.

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