大象传媒

Re-Collections of a WW2 Evacuee.

The following are fragmented memories of my experiences during the war (1939/1945). Actual dates are hard to recall some sixty years later, but the sequence of events listed are to best of my abilities correct.

I, Peter Carey was born in 1932 in Kilburn, London on the 10th. July 1932. At the start of hostilities in September 1939, I lived with my parents, 2 brothers and 3 sisters in Harlesden (NW10). Along with my siblings, I attended the Catholic school in Linacre Road, Willesden, and it was from here that my elder brother and 2 sisters were evacuated (en-bloc) with other pupils to Dunstable, Bedfordshire. My eldest sister Nancy was 15 and working, my younger brother Tony (aged 3) was eventually evacuated to Northants.

As I said at the beginning, only a fraction of these and other events are clear at this late stage in life, but I clearly recall walking (in crocodile fashion) with the rest of the school to the embarkation point (I assume it was the railway station). The journey itself having been completely forgotten. On arrival at Dunstable, my brother and I were assigned to one family and my two sisters to another, and it鈥檚 now that my narrative will become fragmented.

One of the first recollections at this billet, was putting Brown Paper on the windows as blackout precautions.
However, it seems that in next to no time my brother (Alby) reached the ripe age of 14 and was sent back home to start his working life.!

How long I was in Dunstable is uncertain, but one thing is sure and that was I had a quick succession of 鈥淏illets鈥� . In hindsight, I can only assume that I must have been a difficult child and sorely tried my foster parent鈥檚 patience. Dunstable in those days was quite rural, as I recall there was a Stock Market (with cattle pens) on the main road (A5). As a child of 7 to 8, I was left to my own devices and the Downs were a favourite playing area, watching the Gliders doing their training loops in whatever Thermals the pilots could find. Incidentally, to get the gliders airborne, they would be 鈥淲inched鈥� backwards up the Downs by wire rope only to slide down a wooden trough until they had enough speed to lift off. Another place where we played, was the old Cement works at the north end of town. As I said, billets seem to come 鈥淔ast & Furious鈥� and it wasn鈥檛 long before I found myself being lodged out in a house just off the Luton Road a few houses down from the HalfWay Pub. As it so happened, several of the streets running parallel were newly built and were commandeered for the Army personnel, so I was in my element spending time with the Squadies, who treated me well by giving me all manner things, mainly food. I recall one occasion when I was presented with a whole Dixie of Rice Pudding & Jam, which I ate, only to be quite sick later.

It was about this time that I fell foul of the Law. It was on one of my visits to see my sisters in Dunstable that I stole a Padlock from Woolworth鈥檚 (why I鈥檒l never know, has I had nothing to lock up?) Naturally, I was caught (Redhanded) and through the due process of the Courts, I was put on Probation and had to attend the Police Stn. At regular intervals.

Little horror that I was, it was decided that the best place for me was a home for 鈥淲ayward Evacuees鈥�, and I guess the nearest one was Bedford. As stated earlier, exact times and dates don鈥檛 figure much in this narrative, but I guess I would been about 9 or 10 years of age. The hostel for people like me, was a big old house in the Cardington Rd. Bedford (now the Dame Alice School). It was whilst at this hostel that I had my first visit back to London since leaving in 1939, the occasion was for the Christmas Holidays (I think it was 1941!). All went well, and it was good to see my elder siblings and parents. After the festive season I was packed off back to Bedford and the Hostel, but not before I had been given some money, some Sixpence鈥檚 and Brass Threepenny Bits, enough to fill a small matchbox.

On arriving back at the Hostel, I became immensely homesick and without telling anybody at Cardington Road I got a fellow evacuee to carry my bag (for the princely sum of one penny) to carry my bag to the Bus Station and caught the next Coach to London. Arriving back later that night at Harlesden (Pevensey Court, now I believe, Nelson Mandela Court), when it dawned on me that I was in very serious trouble. Not only had I left without telling a soul, my family was oblivious to my where-abouts. The Flats were 4 stories high and we lived on the second floor at number eighteen. After knocking on the front door and before it could be answered, I realised the seriousness of my situation and legged it up to the next level. I heard my father answer the door and mutter something about kids playing 鈥淜nock-Up Ginger鈥�. Well I soon began to realise that I could not stay out in the cold, so had another go at the knocker.? Again I took fright and legged it up the next landing. On the third go, my dad was waiting behind the door and as soon as I lifted the knocker, he swung open the door, only to swear on seeing me standing there. As the average family didn鈥檛 have such luxuries as telephones in their houses, I was taken to the local Police Stn. Who I assume contacted Bedford and my parents where instructed to send me back the very next day, which they did, but this time, no pocket money. On arrival back at the hostel, My clothes were taken away and was made to stay in bed for several days. (Until my wanderlust feet recovered).

It was some time after this incident that I was placed with a Mr. & Mrs. Wotten who lived in Prebend Str. (No.6 I think) who also had two others evacuees staying. Although I was with them for some while, I attended a school near to a railway bridge on the road to Kempston.! One morning whilst walking to school, a lone German bomber dropped bombs on and near the Midland railway. Station. Causing considerable damage. (I have since checked with the Bedfordshire Archives Dept. and find the date was the 23rd July 1942, a few days after my 10th. Birthday.) Being that I have always been well built and look older than my years, I was able to get Partime/Errand boy jobs ie. Paper Boy, helping out at the market Auctioneers in Corporation Str. Whether the Woottons got fed up with me, I don鈥檛 know. But once again I was on the move. This proved to be my final abode as an evacuee, and it proved (for me) the best I ever had.

Unfortunately, I can not confirm exact dates, but I believe it was sometime during 1943 that I was 鈥渓odged鈥� with Mr & Mrs Creed in Days Lane, Biddenham, a small village outside Bedford Town. Very rural and idyllic. The Creeds were extremely good to me and Mrs. Creed in particular tried to (and succeeded to a degree) to talk properly.ie. Sound my 鈥淎itches鈥� in the right order and manner, likewise, any money I earned from my errandboy activities (at Wallengers, Greengrocer near to the Bromham Road / Union Str. Junction Bedford) was kept in a jar of the kitchen dresser and was used to buy essential items of clothing etc. Being that there was no schools in Biddenham. I had to walk into Bedford daily, to a school in Priory Road (maybe street). In those days Biddenham had a Blacksmith and I recall spending many hours watching him perform his trade in the village centre Somehow I acquired an old bike and during the Summer holidays would go off for the day into the surrounding countryside.

In retrospect, I have often wondered 鈥淲hat If鈥� I had spent all my time as a evacuee in Biddenham.? Would I have been better educated.? (I reckon that during the 5 years I away from London, I must have had at least 8 different schools). As it so happened, I returned to my parents and London in the latter part of 1944 to be re-united with my siblings, plus another brother who had arrived on the scene in my absence.

This then is my recollections of WW2. I suppose my parents did what they thought was best for us children under the circumstances, but I have vowed that I would never do the same to any child of mine. Fortunately, I have never been put to the TEST.

Peter John Edward CAREY

(24th September 2005)

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