大象传媒

Within days of the declaration of war my brother and I were dispatched to Handsworth and Smethwick station to board a train for an unknown destination, with instructions to write to our parents on arrival with information regarding our whereabouts...Our final destination was Bell Hall in the village of Belbroughton.

No doubt before our arrival the Somers family had been informed that a house of that size could easily accommodate a considerable number of delightful children from a city threatened with imminent attack from the air. The reception provided for 18 boys from inner city Birmingham (all, except myself and one other, 13 years of age) suggested that our charms would seduce everyone we met. Consequently, after health checks for fleas, lice and infectious diseases, we were given complete freedom of the grounds, to roam anywhere, play bowls on the manicured lawn and find our feet in the new, hospitable environment.

The honeymoon period didn鈥檛 last long after the first mass visit of our parents to see how nicely we were settling in at what had all the appurtenances of a four star hotel. In the twinkling of an eye, the charming migrants from Handsworth turned out to be street urchins of a particularly wayward disposition. Stealing fruit from the orchard was a minor aberration compared with what followed, running riot over the estate and neighbouring fields and throwing stones from bedroom windows in the direction of extensive greenhouses.

At nine years of age, I was too young and innocent to be part of these 鈥渁ctivities鈥�. I spent the first days of autumn planning my escape鈥or a time, being the youngest and least unappealing, I was looked after by nanny, who would take me into her small room (my brother was even invited in to listen to Beethoven鈥檚 fifth symphony) or I would sit outside the windows of the beautiful lounge of the Somers鈥� family in the hope that I may be invited in and again become part of a family. But it didn鈥檛 happen and it was time to go to school.

In the first weeks my fellow in distress and I would walk to school in the morning, return to Bell Hall for lunch, back to school in the afternoon and then a weary walk 鈥渉ome鈥� 鈥� a daily distance of more than four miles. As a child who had been over protected, having spent a year in bed with rheumatic fever at the age of six, this new experience, not appreciated at the time, did me the world of good. Each morning when we reached the main road at the Bell Hall lodge we would be joined by the locals with stinging nettles at the ready but otherwise they were fairly harmless.

Our parents鈥� visits were few and far between. My father would have lost pay, even on a Saturday. I suspect that my mother was enjoying her new found freedom in the 鈥淧honey War鈥�. She would write to invite me to meet her off the 318 bus at Bell End on a weekday but I would usually wait in vain.

No one thought we might have suffered stress or trauma. An aerial torpedo shattered our bedroom window, landed in a neighbouring street, causing many casualties. A land mine fell at the end of our road, got caught in the telegraph wires and failed to explode. It might still have done had it not been diffused by members of the Royal Navy, to whom it was all in a day鈥檚 work. For an eleven year old it was all very exciting.

Bell Hall was like being in an orphanage but many other evacuees formed strong bonds with their hosts, kept in touch for many years and were even the beneficiaries of legacies. There must have been many in Belbroughton whose experiences were more rewarding than ours.

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