大象传媒

This story was submitted to the people鈥檚 war site by Sarah Gregg from St Georges C of E school and has been added to the website on behalf of Gladys Burchell with her permission and they fully understand the site's terms and conditions.

The school bus chugged through the London streets for what seemed like ages, and then unexpectantly I saw hedges, fields and never ending lanes. Between the factory sites and lanes I must have dozed off in my seat, for the last thing I remember was the Odeon cinema with the poster on the board outside saying 鈥済oodbye Mr Chips鈥� I started through the steamed up window and, without thinking murmured 鈥済oodbye鈥� .

When the bus jarred to a halt I knew we must be at our 鈥減lace of safety鈥� for that鈥檚 what we had been told after we left our homes in Islington.

I had been paired up with a girl called Edna, who was fat, wore a brown coat and beret, and kept sniffing. At eight years old and being the taller one, I felt I should take care of her and I held onto her hand. We were all ushered into a dark building called the Village Hall, where we had to wait at the end of the hall until our names were called. It was cold and smelt of wet moth-balls. At the far end was a table where there were two nurses in dark blue, sat one at each end. On the table was a glass jar of blue liquid in which were two metal combs.

One by one our names were called by the nurse who peered down our throats, checked our hands, and scavenged our heads for nits, replacing the comb into the glass jar each time. We then had to wait at the side again. Some more people came into the hall and stared at us, whispering amongst themselves Edna started to cry and sobbed that she wanted to go home to uncle jack. I felt frightened too. I didn鈥檛 like this place. I didn鈥檛 want tot be safe I wanted my dad. After a while these people started to choose the children they wanted, pointing a finger, as miss called out our name.

It was a bit like Nan picking out the best fruit in the market, only we weren鈥檛 fruit, we were us. After a time there were five of us left. Miss glared and tutted in annoyance. She had a mean face on her, a red nose and hair that sprouted from a pimple in her cheek. The more she moaned the more the hair waved about. I was mesmerised by it. The hall was almost empty by then so she told us to follow her outside here a car was waiting. We all piled into the big back seat while she sat in the front with the driver, giving him instructions from her list.

At the first stop the two girls got out with her and never came back. A bit further on a boy with no front teeth went off too. When Miss came back she started ranting off about the mud, which made Edna cry again, Miss glared at the two of us as she tried to bang the mud off her shoes ,all the while complaining that she wouldn鈥檛 be able to get rid of us if we didn鈥檛 shut up.
Eventually we stopped outside called the Dog and Duck. It was now pitch black and very cold. We hurried after Miss as she banged on the side door an old man opened it. We must have looked a sorry sight- a tall skinny girl and a fat one wearing glasses, each with a label tied to our coats, a gas mask over our shoulders and each carrying a brown paper bag with our belongings.

After he鈥檇 had a word with Miss the old man told us to come in. Then he called his daughter Carrie to come and show us where to go. We said our goodbyes to Miss as we were shown upstairs to room with a sloping roof. At the end was a wash-stand and a big iron bedstead. The floor was bare and hard.
Carrie never spoke to us but turned and went out closing the door behind her. We lay on the bed in silence and I wished the war would go away so that we could go home again.

The days that followed were much better. We didn鈥檛 wash, or brush our hair or even go to school. We spent all our time playing in the fields, Sometimes we played in the garden at the back, and helped Carrie to clear the beer glasses from the wooden benches. Sometimes if she wasn鈥檛 looking we鈥檇 drain the beer empty, giggling all the while, although we didn鈥檛 like the taste really.

This freedom only lasted for a few weeks for when my parents came down to visit me my mother had a fit of hysterics when she saw me. I鈥檇 been playing in the pigsty with gert and daisy when she arrived; my skin had not seen soap and water for ages, my hair and clothes even longer. A heated row followed in the kitchen between Mother and Carrie, while Dad and I hung about in the garden with Edna. When eventually my mother came out she was red faced and at boiling point, I was told to go and wash immediately while dad and her went to another address to sort out the billeting officer. When he returned, Mother put all my dirty clothes into a parcel and they both went home. The next day a lady came and took Edna to be rehoused while I was marched off the railway station, where another lady was waiting to take me back to London.

I felt quite sad knowing I wouldn鈥檛 see Edna again. I knew the war wasn鈥檛 over that quick, but it had been a lark, and if this evacuation it wasn鈥檛 so bad after all. I was evacuated a second time a year later to a village in Oxfordshire. I returned to London after fifteen months.
In the spring of 1944 I was evacuated to Fens where I stayed until February 1945.

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