- Contributed byÌý
- ´óÏó´«Ã½ LONDON CSV ACTION DESK
- People in story:Ìý
- Olive Mary Moir (nee Goodchild); Dorothy Goodchild, sister;Marie Baxter; Ronald Parkin; Mr. Saul; Mr. Bannan; Miss Tunks; Miss Heckman;Archie Woodlands; Mr. Wood; Miss Burns; Mrs. Newman; Mr. and Mrs Grant and Jean; Mr. and Mrs. Clark and Coral;Mr. and Mrs. Peto.
- Location of story:Ìý
- Guildford, Surrey.
- Background to story:Ìý
- Civilian
- Article ID:Ìý
- A7210829
- Contributed on:Ìý
- 23 November 2005
I was born Olive Goodchild in Fulham and lived in Wardo Avenue, which
was the next road to Gowan Avenue where Jill Dando lived, although obviously she wasn't there at this time. We then moved to a larger house in Hurlingham, still in Fulham just over Putney Bridge, and behind our house was where Lord Beaverbrook lived. Our next-door neighbour was his chauffeur. In Hurlingham, the Polo grounds during the war were given over to the army and there were anti aircraft guns and barrage balloons which were activated during an air raid. My father was a fire watcher, having served in the 1914-1918 war in Flanders trenches where he lost an eye and was severely wounded. My mother was a WRVS volunteer, an elder brother was in the RAMC, an elder sister served in the National Fire Service at Deans Yard, Westminster and another sister in the Women's Land Army. A younger brother stayed at home with my mother.
On the 1st September 1939, which was a Friday, we attended school at Ackmar Road off Parsons Green Lane in Fulham, as usual, with small cases of luggage as we were to be evacuated with our teachers, because war was threatening, We were given a box each which contained a gas mask, and a small carrier bag which contained a chocolate bar, a tin of corned beef, biscuits and various other items which I can’t quite remember, and were told these were our iron rations for an emergency.
Buses were laid on to take us to Wimbledon Station to get to our destination. We had no idea at the time where we were bound. Saying good-bye to our parents, my younger sister Dorothy who was eight years old and myself aged twelve years, were among the crowd. We eventually arrived at Guildford where we boarded another bus which took us to our billets. Half of us went to West Clandon and half went to West Horsley. Dorothy and I went to West Horsley. Some were dropped in the village and about 4O of us went to West Horsley Place, the home of Lord and Lady Crew. I can still visualise it now - a stately home down a long drive. Dorothy and myself were billeted with Lord Crewe's head gardener, his wife and their daughter, Mr and Mrs Grant and Jean.
Saturday, we were able to settle in and on Sunday we attended church where it was announced that war had been declared. We were told to write and tell our parents of our whereabouts. At first we were all a little bit homesick. Monday came and we were taken to the village school. The
locals did not think much of sharing their school with poor evacuees from London. Whether they thought we were poor not wealthy, or poor things leaving home we never knew. Every day we would go across a field to school which contained racehorses and sheep. Dorothy was terrified of
the horses as they used to gallop round the field and she always ended up in tears. There was a pretty young ram amongst the flock of sheep and being young and innocent we called him 'heat bump'. I1l leave it to your imagination why!! Whenever he saw us coming, he would make a beeline for us and we would yell, "Here comes heat bump," and take to our heels. Although he did not have any horns and had a flat nose, he could jolly well butt you if he had the chance.
Mr and Mrs Grant were a very kind couple but seemed very old to us at the time, although they were probably in their early forties. Mrs Grant later had an accident. She fell off her daughter's bicycle and we were moved to the big house as we called it. Lord and Lady Crew gave us a
wonderful Christmas that year. We had pheasant for Christmas dinner, which I don't think any of us had ever tasted before. The staff waited on us and entertained us. Lord Crewe presented us personally with a gift each. I remember I had a large compendium of games, which we played with very much over and over again.
We had dormitories in the west wing and to get there we climbed the back staircase, which was rather creepy. We would lie in bed and pretend there were ghosts in the house, besides having mid-night feasts. We were allowed to play in the gardens and I remember we were doing acrobatics and one poor girl Emily Myers, broke her ankle and had to be in plaster for about six weeks. We were forbidden to do that ever again. We had lovely nature walks with the school in the Sheep Lease, and gathered wild strawberries. My sister climbed a tree in her new navy blue reefer coat and accidentally ripped it. I had to carefully sew it together again before mum or dad saw it or else!! One or two of the girls swooned over the footman and the butler, as young girls do, and later cried when they too
joined up, so that was the end of the men. When the air raid siren sounded at all hours, we were made to come downstairs and sit underneath the long tables in the dining room, which were moved underneath the windows, which were heavily shuttered and had corrugated iron sheets inserted outside them, and wait for the all clear.
We watched convoys of army lorries on manoeuvres drive through the village. Maybe they were going to Aldershot or Farnborough or further afield; we never knew. We also witnessed a dogfight in the air during the Battle of Britain. From the village school, the older pupils were graduated to Effingham Central School. After awhile, many of the children went home, as things were quiet in London. Little did we know what was in store. As there were only a few of us left at West Horsley Place, we were
transferred to the Rectory in the village. The Rector was a widower who had twin daughters, one of which was expecting twins herself. We had a pleasant stay with Rector Stevens. He would talk to us in his study of an evening before going to bed (not always religious subjects), although he did try to get us to be confirmed. My father did not wish this as we were
Methodist and he was a Methodist lay preacher.
When I was fourteen, my sister having gone home, I was transferred to Wandsworth Technical Institute, which was at the time evacuated to Guildford. We shared the Technical College in Stoke Park, Guildford. There again the pupils did not like sharing the college with us.
My first billet in Guildford was with Mr and Mrs Peto in Grantley Road, Westborough, who were not terribly talkative. I was billeted with my friend, Marie Baxter, with whom I still keep in touch. We moved from there to another billet with Mr and Mrs Clarke in Vernon Way, still in Westborough. Coral, their daughter was rather spoilt. Mr Clarke drove the Aldershot and District buses, and disappeared with a conductress for a while. We moved from there to Mr and Mrs Goodfellow in Worplesdon Road, Stroughton. Both were retired. Mrs Goodfellow was a retired school teacher. I stayed in this billet until I left college.
I used to go home at weekends and during the school holidays as I had an older sister in the Women's Land Army, I used to go to Devizes in Wiltshire to help on the land. Several of us went fruit picking to earn a few shillings.
Our teachers at Guildford were retired tutors who came out of
retirement as the younger teachers had joined up. Mr Saul, our headmaster, was a little man from Yorkshire. He was very strict and we were terrified of him. I remember he caned a lad, Ronald Bridges, in front of our class and the poor lad couldn't sit down for a week. Mr Bannan was Deputy Head. He was rather huge and had flat feet. He took us for book-keeping and commerce which I hated. Mrs Newman took us for typewriting and would always talk about her son whom she adored. Unfortunately, she had a heart attack so Mr Young took over. Miss Heckman was our English teacher who was the youngest non-retired. She
married a sailor and left to enjoy her baby. One gentleman who was Archie Woodlands was unable to join up due to medical reasons and I'm sure had a chip on his shoulder due to this, so took it out on his pupils. He
always wore plus fours and you know what they were called. He took us for geography and history and once he wrote on my report, which I still have to this day, ‘weak and lazy' — dear man. Another English teacher was Miss Burns who told us she always got dressed during the blackout, and would come to school in odd stockings which we thought was hilarious. Another teacher, Mr Wardle, took us for music, and we always asked him to sing La Donna e Mobile which he loved to do, and at the point of ellefantier, he would go as red as a turkey cock and we thought he would burst a blood vessel. Our shorthand instructress was a neat lady named Miss Tunks. She told usher clothes came from Paris. She must have had an extensive wardrobe as you never saw her in the same outfit twice. She would always dust her table and chair before she sat down to class. But she was always a fantastic shorthand teacher. She had excellent results with exams, helping us take 120 works per minute. I don't think I could do this now although outlines and phrases still stick in one’s mind, and I often have a burst when writing things, as long as I can still read what I have written. Our French master, Mr Wood, was odd but I did come top one term in French. I learnt to type on a manual Underwood and L.C Smith typewriters. Quite different from today's computers!
We often hoped the siren would sound {horrors that we were) so that we could go to the shelters to carry on lessons. The boys usually got there first so that they could sit at the back and play cards. How we ever learnt anything is a miracle, but I suppose we must have done to go on getting awards in RSA Pitman's and London Chamber of Commerce. The boys would bombard us with snowballs from the classroom windows until they were caught, dear little things.
We were given a half-day holiday when the German destroyer Bismarck was torpedoed. We went round chanting, "The Bismarck’s sunk! The Bismarck’s sunk!"
My friend from my billet days, Marie Baxter, (who now lives in Croydon), during our spare time in Guildford visited the Cathedral which was in the throes of being built, but all the building stopped during the war. Pictures of evacuees are still pinned up at the Cathedral to this day. We
went on the river Wey, walked to St. Catherine's and picked
rhododendrons to take home at Whitsun holidays. We visited Lewis Carroll's home and 'Alice Through the Looking Glass.' The museum was a favourite place too. We still reminisce about those days and often wonder what happened to everyone in our form. I have recently managed to contact a chap, Ronald Parkin, who was in my form at college. We have had rather a lot of fun talking about the pupils, friends and teachers at college and how we enjoyed our evacuee days. They were very happy. We are both in out late seventies now.
I came home when I left college about the time the doodle bugs, which were horrendous, flew over London, and I had a new job from college at the Institute of Mechanical Engineers in Storey's Gate, Westminster. It was a very interesting job and I was there when the first prisoners of war were repatriated, having taken their exams to join the I. Mech. E. in the prison camps.
My evacuee days were fun; maybe others were not so fortunate, and for the rest of the country it was unpleasant. I wanted to join the WRNS but I was too young at the time. Many of us can remember those early days in the war no doubt, and it is something to remember. The experiences will
never be forgotten...
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