大象传媒

In the early days of the war, part of my school - Sunning Hill - in Bolton was taken over to be used as a Main First Aid Post. I was 7 years old and my sister was 10 years old and for several weeks, along with our friends we did not attend school. Eventually, we all had to report to one of several local Church Sunday School Halls for half a day, whilst attempts were made to 'sort us out', We were each given some homework, which was quite amusing, as we were all given the same 'Sums' and English etc. -whether you were 6 year olds or 11 year olds. For several more weeks we attended school on a 'shift' basis. Alternating mornings one week and afternoons the next. At last we were allocated to full-time at various Church Halls and Sunday Schools, where temporary classrooms had been set up. For a short time I was back in part of Sunning Hill, and each time we heard the 'Siren', everyone crowded into the basement and sat on chairs, desks, forms, or whatever was available. There was a wonderful teacher called Mrs. Bleakley, who valiantly played the piano with gusto, for what seemed like hours sometimes, whilst we all sang. Whenever I hear 'There's a Tavern in the Town.....' or 'Camptown Races....'or 'Ten Green Bottles...' I am taken back to that crowded stuffy basement. We weren't allowed to go home - even if it was the end of the school day - until the 'All Clear' was heard. Later on, my classmates and I were sent to St. Phillip's Church Hall and our classroom was in the former concert dressing rooms behind the Stage.
The following year, we went to Daubhill Congregational Church Hall. Our classroom was upstairs in what had formerly been used as an 'Auditorium'. There was an enormous Stage at one end, with beautiful deep blue velvet curtains. Two different classes were held in this hall - which must have been very difficult for the teachers. Two other room below were also used as classrooms.
The Stage fascinated us - especially the girls, as we were all stage-struck, but we were forbidden to go on, behind or anywhere near it. Outside, there was a tiny forecourt as our playground and although the Stage was out of bounds, whenever opportunity presented itself,we would sneak back indoors at playtime to play out our fantasies. Every Friday morning, we had a service in the Congregational Church attached to the Hall, where special prayers were said for peace.
Eventually towards the end of the war, we returned to Sunning Hill, our proper school building. But on looking back, I realise that our education and been badly neglected and disrupted, unlike the pupils of the schools in other parts of Bolton. Fortunately, the use of a Main First Aid Post was never needed, in our town.

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