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WHAT I DID DURING THE WAR

By: Margery Florence Sarson (nee Piper)

In 1938 I was on holiday with my Mother, Father, and elder brother at Clifftonville. My Father was notified to return to duty at the City of Rochester Police station.

The rumblings of the war to be had started. I was eight years old. I remember being taken by my Mother for us to be fitted with a gasmask each. It was to be carried and near to hand at all times. We carried it in a square thick cardboard box and to keep it clean and dry. My Mother made a waterproof cover with a shoulder strap.

Families must have been very uneasy with the thought of a war and many children, myself included, were evacuated to Canterbury. I came home about two months later.

Later in 1939, through relations of friends, I went to Felbridge in Surrey to a Mr. & Mrs. Christmas. Although I missed my Family very much, my time there was quite happy. They were kind people and I attended a delightful, friendly village school run by Headmistress Miss Downing (or Dowling). I

I remember well our nature lessons were spent identifying birds and butterflies, trees, etc.; also, we did work on the garden. Her cottage and garden were next to the school and I have pleasant memories of my time there, even today.

Early in 1940, due to illness, I returned home. In the Summer of that year I was an evacuee with my name label attached to my coat once more. Tearful Mothers saw us off at Strood Railway Station, the start of what seemed an endless journey to South Wales.

Packed sandwiches and drinks were given out at lunchtime and teatime; also, sweets at intervals. People came out into their back gardens to wave to us and there were Union Jacks hanging from windows and good luck messages for us and for the troop trains going that way.

When we arrived at Blaina, groups were formed of brothers, sisters and the ‘one offs’ like me. Then we were selected; I and two sisters went with a Mr. & Mrs. Owen Jones. Mr. Jones had ill health from his working days in the Pits. By the time we were all sorted out we were tired and rather tearful. I know I wished the day had all been a dream and I was back home going to my own bed. I would have to wait a long time for that. From the bedroom window, which the two sisters and I shared, we cold see large black slag heaps with the green mountains high in the background. One had to climb up the slag hills to get on to the mountains where we walked and played often and picked win berries that grew wild. We had great difficulty keeping our white socks free from coal dust when we walked up and down the slag hills. There were very few cars to be seen so we also played in the street; whip and top, skipping, hoops and stick, etc. We had ‘chores’ to do and errands to run, and we were allowed to the films which changed twice a week. We sat on wooden forms in a small hall.

There was no schooling for us for many weeks, but eventually we went along to a British Legion Hall for half day lessons; mornings one week and afternoons the next. This went on until 1942 when places were found for us at the local school. I was not at all happy there so was relieved when my Mother asked if I would like to come home. The two sisters who had been with me had already gone. It was a much happier journey home with my Mother than the journey away early in 1940.

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