大象传媒

Our Evacuee Story by Mrs Beryl Kemp

In 1941, the Blitz was really hitting Bristol very hard, so, after a lot of soul searching, our very concerned parents decided to take advantage of the evacuation scheme and have us three children sent to safety into the country. My sister, Joan, was aged eleven years, myself aged nine and baby brother, Tommy was just five.

Mother made sure that apart from the usual top and outdoor clothes, we all were rigged out in brand new two of everything, including new pairs of shoes. Mother now stressed that, as we were not going to have to worry about getting up in the middle of the night to go to shelters, we could undress properly into our nightwear, including taking off all underwear! (We had got used to going to bed fully clothed, except for footwear, as there was not any time to get dressed, once the sirens sounded).

Before leaving, my mother wrote a letter for Joan to show to anyone who was taking us, asking that the three of us must be kept together and not separated. Of course at that age it was a bit of an adventure and we happily went to the train station and joined the crowds of other schoolchildren. With our name labels pinned to our clothes and gas masks strung across out chests, we felt just a little bit important doing this great journey on the train without parental supervision. When we reached the town in Somerset, where the train deposited us, we were all herded into various coaches. Joan having to convince whoever was in charge that she had this letter from Mum and please would they make sure we were kept together. All the coaches dispersed in different directions, our taking us into the depths of the countryside. We kept stopping at villages where at every stop, we were 鈥榟erded鈥� into a hall, made to stand in a circle in the middle and then walk slowly round and around whilst these strangers 鈥榮elected鈥� those that they fancied, pointing and shaking their heads at us. Each time Joan had to show the letter, to stop people from taking one of us and not the others. So once again we were put on the coach and off we went, ad nauseum. If we did not have our mother鈥檚 letter, we would have all been split into different villages. Finally it was now very dark and we were the last children on the coach. They dropped us off and the coach disappeared into the night, leaving us once more to do the circling like cattle at a market. But this time when Joan showed the letter, they said that there was not anyone who wanted to take in three children and as the coach had now gone, we had to make the best of it! As Joan was the eldest, it was decided that she should go with Tommy and I would have to go somewhere on my own. I was taken in by a family with a small child of their own and a Very streetwise 13 year old Cockney girl, with whom to my horror I had to share a bed. No way was I going to take my knickers off on retiring now! Of course she found this very hilarious and teased me very cruelly, she told the man of the house about this and much to my embarrassment, he would shout up the stairs every night 鈥楤eryl, have you taken your knickers off yet?鈥� and she also told everyone at the communal school (run by a very strict 鈥楪overness鈥�, teaching in one room all the children ranging from 5 to 15 years old). This girl was very cruel to me and having been brought up in a very loving and Christian family, I found her constant sniping, swearing and bullying very hard to take.

I then began to realise that Joan and Tommy were not always at school and seemed to be having a whale of a time where they were staying on the outskirts of the village. After being away for few weeks (I cannot remember how many) our parents came to visit us to see how we were getting on. Joan said things were okay (little did we know what was actually happening), but I was extremely unhappy, as I was now suffering the assaults of the local country boys. I seemed to be the only blonde girl in the area and this seemed to attract all the very knowing little and big lads. They were constantly chasing me, leaping on me and trying to get my knickers off, which frightened me to death, and young enough to be too embarrassed to tell anyone. So I told my Mother I did not want to stay, especially as my 鈥榝oster parents鈥� had told me that I would now have to pull my weight in the house and would have to start helping with all the housework, cleaning, etc! In other words a nice little servant on tap! Mother and father were very concerned as the Blitz was at its height and who knows what would happen if we came home.

Then Joan came up with the knowledge that a very nice Farmers鈥� Wife had said to her, that, had she known that evacuees could be as nice as us, she would have accepted some. (She already had had a taste of the Cockney Girl!) So Mum went to the farm and knocked on the door and asked whether she would look after me, explaining how unhappy I was. This lovely lady immediately agreed, and I was transferred to the farm. Was given a lovely fourposter bed and had the run of the place. And was showered with a lot of loving care. After this all was well with me. I was living close to the school, so there was not much chance of being hassled. I used to help on the farm and was delighted to drive on my way to school, the small herd of cows, up to the field for their daily grazing and took the billy can of milk to the school鈥檚 caretaker who lived next door to the school. The only blot on my horizon was that I hardly ever saw Joan and Tommy, they never went to school and on the odd occasions we met they told me how they spent their days playing in the woods and the pool on the large posh estate adjoining the place where they stayed. They were always out picking berries and climbing trees, I thought (in my ignorance) what a great way to spend their time.

One day on the way home from school, I was driving the cows back to the farm, as usual the herd blocking the road, I had run off down a lane in order to bring back a straying big black cow called Daisy, on reaching the rest of the herd, suddenly the car that had been held up by
The cattle, started hooting and the occupants were shouting at me, It was my parents and my granny! They could not believe their eyes when his great lumbering black cow came back up the lane, driven by this tiny sun-bonetted lass, thwacking the cows with a stick on their backsides, obviously the only one in charge of the herd, and it turned out to be me!! Of course I was delighted to see them and was very surprised to learn that they had come to fetch Joan and Tommy home, and would I like to come too, or would I rather stay on the farm as I was so happy?

Now I learned what had happened to my brother and sister. Their first couple of weeks had not been too bad, hence my parents unconcern at their first visit. But I believe that it was expected that the parents would be doing a check up so maybe that is why all was well to start with. Joan and Tommy had all of their new clothes taken from them. These had all been sold! They had to sleep on the floor on bare boards on dirty old coats and only covered with old clothes. The only toilet was at the end of a very long garden and as they were sleeping only in their little vests ( also their shoes had disappeared). In the night, in the dark, they had to walk down this path bare footed, just in their vests to go to the toilet. The woman would not feed them very often and turned them out of the house every morning. (that is why they spent all their time in the woods so they tried to fill up on berries and drank from the stream. They were not allowed in the house during the day. I really cannot remember how long all this went on for, but apparently one day the woman told Joan that they would have to leave as she was going into hospital on the morrow, and she virtually kicked them out just as they stood, with nothing apart from what they were wearing. So Joan took Tommy by the hand and started walking. They had to walk about 7 or 8 miles to the nearest village, where Joan went around knocking upon doors, asking if anyone would take in two homeless evacuees. (It is hard to imagine in this day and age with all our social services and welfare associations that sort of thing could happen) but this was wartime and it did! Joan eventually found a lady who said that she could give them a bed for the night, but was unable to give them a home and that they would have to move on. In those days, not many people possessed their own telephones, so phoning for help was not an easy option. Joan was only eleven and did not have much experience of coin operated public telephone boxes鈥�. In our road in Bristol a lady had transformed her house into a little shop and had the only phone in the area. 鈥淵ou may telephone from here鈥� it proclaimed. Somehow Joan managed to find her telephone number, must have cadged the twopence for the call and phoned the shop and asked the lady to contact mum and dad. Whatever she told them, made them drop everything and they immediately travelled down to Somerset.

There was no way I was going to be left behind, so we packed up all my things and said my farewells to my lovely Mrs Gates and we all returned to home, to the Blitz and all its worries.

Both Joan and Tommy were covered with impetigo, lice, nits and were suffering with malnutrition and were in a very sorry way. The following week after getting home Tommy was suddenly taken ill with rheumatic fever and very nearly died, all as a result of this terrible experience.

We got on with the war, frightening air raids, blown flat by bomb blasts, losing many neighbours. But we were lucky unlike some, our home was not destroyed, neither any of our close family and we all lived to tell the tale.

This story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War site by Sue Russell of the 大象传媒 on behalf of Mrs Beryl Kemp and has been added to the site with her permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

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