大象传媒

In 1940, I was seven years old, playing in Elmsdale Road, Liverpool 18. My dad (Harry
Pearson) was a taxi driver. He had a big Daimler car it was well known in Liverpool 18.
My dad decided we should go to Wales as evacuees (private; not government organised). I
had never heard of Wales. I thought they were fish (i.e. Whales!) Dad borrowed the car.
We all went to Wales (my dad, my mum, Ida, brother Henry and sister Angela).We got the last luggage boat across the River Mersey, before the sirens went off.
I remember the carthorse in front of us. There were no lights on through to the Wirral.
We where heading for the Lleyn Peninsular.
We eventually reached Bryncroes, which is the next village to Sarn on the road to
Aberdaron. These villages are on the Lleyn Peninsular.
We arrived very late. Dad got lost in Sarn, but he managed to wake a very annoyed
lady in the local pub. She shouted through the window. 鈥淲hat do you want?鈥� Dad
shouted back that he wanted to know where Harry Griffiths lived. She shouted
back that Harry lived up the hill about a mile and a half on the left and she slammed the
window shut.
On we went. Henry and Angela fell asleep. We stopped in the darkness and lo and
behold we met Harry Griffiths, with his sheep dog. His farmhouse was along a lane on
its own.
In the house was a little lady sitting in the corner of the kitchen with an open range fireplace. On it was a black kettle. They exchanged words. Then mum and dad left. We did
not see them for ages.
I went to bed with Henry. We lit the room with a candlestick.
The next morning it was like we were all strangers. In the kitchen there was a huge dish
of butter on a pine table.
Before we went to school we milked the cows by hand and then walked to school. When
we got there they did not speak English. I can still speak the Welsh language and had to
relearn English when I eventually went home. After school we took churns to the milk stage for the milk lorry.
I worked on the farm doing all kinds of work for instance castrating pigs, crutched sheep and haymaking. I was even tossed by a bull.It speared my side.
My sister, Angela moved to Grufydd Parry's farm eventually.
There was a prison camp in Wales where 71 P.O.Ws were interned and they worked
locally on farms.
We noticed German 鈥榩lanes flying overhead via Ireland on there way to bomb Liverpool
and Bootle.
There was one bus a day from Pwllheli to Aberdaron (no KA.4 Crosville bus).
Many evacuees had bad experiences during World War 11,but my life with Uncle Harry and Auntie Laura was absolutely superb. During my time in Wales there were cattle auctions, welsh preachers, churning butter, slaughtering pigs and their bladders were like footballs. We had hand made clogs which were made to measure and oil engines were used in the barn (Petters) to drive the grinding machines, for wheat and barley, chaff- cutting, gorse cutting on the hillsides and helping vets breech birth of any calves.My arms were thin so I could turn the calves head, internally and on and on.
I still have contacts in that part of Wales and visit, regularly, even now.

漏 Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.