大象传媒

Evacuation to Blackpool

On September 1st 1939, the day Germany invaded Poland, I was 13 and evacuated from Manchester to Blackpool with pupils from Derby Street School. I was accompanied by my sister, Sheila, aged 7. Although she attended Bowker Vale School, my parents insisted that we could not be separated.
The group left from Manchester Exchange train station at 12.20 p.m. I know the departure time and place because it is on the home-made ID label every child wore and which I still have. It is a memento of some personal historical significance which I found recently while rummaging through a drawer. The ID was a circular cardboard disc on a piece of string. We had each made our own on the previous day under the direction of our teacher, Mr. Price. On arrival, the evacuees were marched around the streets to be selected by their new foster parents according to fancy. My sister and I were last to be chosen as there was no great enthusiasm for providing bedrooms for both a boy and girl. By the time we were selected my little sister was in tears. We had been shepherded around the streets for some considerable time and she was tired and hungry. She would have been accepted quickly if I had not been there. Attractive little girls were popular compared to 13 year-old louts. We were eventually billeted at 鈥淗azeldene鈥�, Common Edge Road, Marton, the home of two elderly widows. One was Mrs. Wilkinson. She did most of the cooking and baking. We were looked after with kindness and the food was supplemented by my parents who visited us by coach every Sunday. Our parents also made a modest addition to the allowance paid our hosts by the authorities. Their visit was always preceded by an attack with pumice stone on my nicotine stained fingers. I smoked 鈥淲eights鈥� or 鈥淧ark Drive鈥� costing two old pence for five. Smoking was easy when parents were not around.
On September 3rd, we listened to the P.M., Mr. Chamberlain, announce over the radio that we were now at war with Germany.
I attended Highfield Road School in the morning. The afternoon lessons were held on the balcony of the Lido indoor swimming pool, Lytham Road. The reality of the situation was brought home to us in that the small local airport at Squires Gate was taken over by the RAF. My friends and I would walk over to view the Blenheim bombers on the grass runway. Usually there was a Wall鈥檚 man selling three-sided fruit ices from his tricycle cart close by. He knew the bombers attracted customers. The ices were a penny for a full one and a halfpenny for a half.
At the beginning of November, aged 14, I left school and returned to Manchester to start work. I had only been evacuated for two months. When I look back, it seems as though it were a long holiday. The younger children including my sister stayed in Blackpool through most of 1940. Ironically, they were brought home in time to be targets of the blitzes on Manchester in December 1940.
My father owned a retail shop, specialising in the sale of rainwear. The plan was that I should join him. Before that, however, he insisted that I should learn what was involved in the making of a raincoat. My starting job was at Comac鈥檚 raincoat manufacturers, in Harris Street in the Strangeways area of Manchester. My starting wage was 10/- (50 pence) a week, less 9d (4 and1/2 new pence) deducted for an insurance stamp. The rest of my wage I gave to my mother. She in turn gave me 2/6 (12 and 陆 new pence) as spending money. That went a long way in those days.

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