大象传媒

When war broke out I was four and lived in Brixton.
After the initial exitement we were told that Santley Street School was being evacuated to Brighton.

As I was very young and very nervous I on more than one occasion wet the bed. This resulted in me being transferred to a farm in Chiddingfold, Surrey.
One of my parents would visit every three months.
The owners wife was horrendous and most of our time was spent on the farm, not at school.

I ran away twice only to be returned by the police.
In 1944 my pleas were heard and my mother took me back home. The last act of the farmer's wife was to scrub me with a floor brush.

Although the bombing was very severe, my life was quite good. Games of cards, down the air-raid shelter and collecting schrapnel, which was pieces of bombs or rockets. Although sweets were scarce and ice-creams non-existant we survived pretty well.
My war was not marred by death or deaths, in the family, so to an extent it was unreal.

I am now 68 and relate these stories to my grand children and they never seem to tire of them. One even came to me last week to talk about gas masks, which was a topic at school.

I hope this is of interest.

Kind regards,

Alan Bailey

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