大象传媒

This story was submitted to the People's War site by Margaret Mitton. She fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

An Evacuee

I was six years old a few days after war was declared, about the same time I was evacuated along with my mother and younger brother.

I vaguely remember everyone gathering at the school, which was St Thomas's, Lower Crumpsall, Manchester and being taken to the railway station and then getting off the train at a place called Turton about twenty miles away from Manchester. We were then taken by bus to a big hall, I presume the village hall at Edgeworth, a few miles further on and then waiting around. We were taken by a lady called Mrs Taylor to stay with her. I cant remember her husband very well. They had a small-holding; they kept hens and some goats and I remember helping to feed the chickens. We stayed with her for quite a few months, and then we moved into a small cottage a few minutes away. My Dad wasnt in the services, but was still away most of the time. He was a builder and was sent to the South Coast and to Norfolk. He helped to build the Mulberry Harbours that were used in the D-Day Landings. I remember he used to come home every six weeks or so.

I used to go to a school called Hob Lane in Edgeworth. It was about 2 miles away and I used to have to walk, or get a lift on the milk float. I remember one day I forgot my gas mask and the teacher made me go all the way home for it. My Mum wouldnt let me go back to school that day. I also remember school dinners - I've had an aversion to Macaroni Cheese ever since. We had a very bad winter in the early 1940s and the roads were blocked and nothing could get through. The school was closed for a week or two. When a path was finally cut through the snow, we went to school with the farmer on the milk sledge, pulled by his horse. The area was very hilly where we lived, with open moors behind us. One day there were a lot of soldiers and police about, searching for a pilot from a German plane that had come down on the moors. If you stood on top of the hills, on a clear day you could count the dozens of barrage balloons in the skies over Manchester.

An Aunt and Uncle used to come and visit us. They had a tandem and used to cycle the 20 odd miles from Manchester and stay the week out. I went back to Manchester over one Christmas to stay with them and slept through all the bombings. They said I would have to go home to Mum, if there were any more bombs, but I managed to stay a few more days. I remember helping my Granddad pluck a goose for Christmas. It was hung behind the kitchen door and the feathers went everywhere. By this time we had moved house again and were now living next door to the lady who had first taken us in. It was here in December 1940 my youngest brother was born and here we stayed until the end of the war. We never returned to Manchester, but many of the other families who had been evacuated went back.

I remember dried eggs, and a friend of my Mum and Dad used to shoot pigeons and rabbit and Mum used to cook them.

It was during this time that my Dad was working in Cumberland (known as Cumbria now), helping to build Winscale (Sellafield), one of the first Nuclear Power Stations.

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