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This story was submitted to the People’s War Site by Three Counties Action, on behalf of Myrtle Belcher, and has been added to the site with her permission. The author fully understands the site’s terms and conditions.

One year after we had been at war, Eastman Kodak in Rochester, New York, had many employees who offered to give Harrow employees children foster homes in the USA for the duration of the war. It was a wonderful opportunity for children between 5-15 — but a terrible wrench to go so far away from our families. Reluctantly, myself aged 14 and brother of 15 years sailed from Liverpool in September 1940, with the other children who were going. It took two weeks to cross, dodging many hazards. One of the evacuee ships went down, but we were not aware of it. Our parents did not know if we were the ones on that ship until mid-October.

We went to a children’s home for nearly two months (in quarantine) while they interviewed foster homes that would be most suitable for each individual.

I had a job to settle for a while because I was so homesick for my family. Once in school, I gradually became accustomed to the American way of life and made many friends. It was luxurious to what I had been used to, and I put on a lot of weight. Kodak took care of our health and provided many get-togethers for us. In the long summer holidays we were sent to Girls Scout Camps and had a great time, learning to swim, canoe, row, archery, and sleeping under canvas. I was not one of the easiest girls to handle, as I was a bit of a tomboy. I had always done what my brother had (he was in another foster home a mile away). It was soon decided that I should go to another home where I had two little boys to dote on. One being only ten months, I was allowed to do everything for him. This younger family understood me better and were less protective. My brother, Des, was ‘called up’ when he was eighteen and went to Canada to train as an RAF pilot. When I became seventeen, I asked to go home and join the forces, but had to get my parents’ permission because the war was still on. Eventually I went to sea again in June, 1944 at 171/2 years.

My first foster parents kept in touch for years and I went back to see them with my husband and 17-year old daughter after thirty years. It was a wonderful time they gave us for four years, during the dark days and I will always be grateful for that experience. My brother went back to live there, married, and he died in Arizona in 2003.

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