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In the summer of 1939, my mother, two brothers and myself were on holiday at a holiday camp in Norfolk for 2 weeks. My younger brother Gordon was 12, I was just 14 and my brother John was 15
We were of course having a lovely time, until we realised that many of the campers were leaving before their holidays had finished. On the Sunday we were told that war had been declared and we also would have to return home. As young children, I for one hadn’t fully taken in the possibility that there would actually be a war. Although, I can remember being a little frightened when I heard the adults talking about it during the previous weeks. As you can imagine we were terribly disappointed at missing some of our holiday.

When we arrived back, we found that our schools had already been evacuated and we were told that we would have to follow on as best we could. Gwen, my sister who was older than us had already been evacuated as she had stayed at home, because she was studying for her Matriculation. We were told that she had gone to Woking and I was to follow. We found out that my brothers’ school had gone to Godalming. So, having been issued with our name tags and in our uniforms, with Gas Masks slung over our shoulder and carrying a small suitcase of clothes we began our journey of evacuation.

My mother came with us to ensure that we were safely delivered to our new temporary homes and we went by train. After dropping my brothers off at Godalming and seeing them settled - she went on with me to Woking. By the time we got there all the evacuees had found homes and there didn’t appear to be anywhere for me. I was very upset - particularly as there seemed to be no one there to help us. We were walking down a road feeling tired and miserable, when by chance I met a girl friend from Lavender Hill School standing by a gate of a small semi-detached house. When I told her of my plight, she said that she would try and get me into her digs.

Her hosts, Mr. and Mrs. Francis were a childless couple and were nice enough to take pity on me and give me a home with them. Although they had no proper bed for me, they were willing to put me up on an armchair which extended out to make a very narrow bed with hard cushions and wooden arms - not very comfortable. My mother managed to put up at another house close by as she intended to stay for a while. But after 5 days she could not stand the loneliness any longer and went back to London. We found out that my sister was lodging at the other side of Woking so I didn’t see her that often as she went to a different school.

All we evacuees shared a school with the local children. I can’t remember a lot about the school itself, but we enjoyed ourselves. It was like being on holiday- for a while anyway. My friend Dorothy and I had bikes, so we were able to cycle to school each day with a lot of other school friends from London. Because there were so many of us at the school we had to share class rooms and worked in shifts.
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However, although Mr.and Mrs. Francis were very kind, I hated sleeping on such a cramped chair bed and after a year when I went back to London for a few days as there were no air raids I refused to return to Woking, much to my father annoyance.
My mother and father were divorced, and although we lived with my mother he still controlled us. This was just before the bombing started so, I suppose I was foolish to come home, although Woking didn’t seem a very safe place either as it is only a few miles from London.

My dad got me a job as a Hairdresser’s apprentice, over in Wandsworth which I had to take even if I didn’t want to as, one obeyed your parents in those days. I used to cycle there every day, which was about 3 to 4 miles. At night in winter it could be very scary because of the blackout. You weren’t even allowed to have cycle lamps. I used to have to pass Wandsworth Prison which I did very apprehensively as I wondered if any prisoner had escape and would be waiting to pounce on me. As it was blackout there were no street lamps to guide you and one time it was so dark and foggy that I landed up cycling into a hedge right by the prison and finished up with a lot of scratches.

On 24th August 1940 the blitz began in earnest. It was Hitler’s intention to paralyse the Administration while the invasions plans were being made for the spring of 1941.However, by June he turned his attention to Russia and we were not invaded as expected. During the blitz we were sleeping in shelters most nights. We had an Anderson shelter in the garden which I hated so most times I stayed up in bed or went under the stairs. Later I went to my friend’s house as they had a shelter in the basement all reinforced and kitted out.
It was just as well that I could go there, as my aunt and her family were bombed out and they a came to stay with us, which made nine staying in the house making it very cramped. The only consolation was that we had more coupons and points for the essentials of life. Coupons were given for food such a sugar, butter, meat and points were for an extra variety of food which could be chosen.
This was a very frightening time as Gerry was sending his bombers over every night - then we had the doodle-bugs which were pilotless. You would hear the loud grinding noise as they flew across London then suddenly they would stop, there was dead silence as they dived to earth and then there was a big explosion. It was terrible to walk out of the shelter after the All Clear and see the dreadful devastation caused and we breathed a sigh of relief to realise how lucky we had been each time. But we never knew how long our luck would hold out.

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