大象传媒

Whit Sunday is an occasion when Roman Catholics go to church, in what is termed as walking in white. For this ceremony the girls are dressed all in white and the boys wear a white shirt. It was said if you did not have new clothes on that day, the crows would mess on you. A good enough reason for having new clothes don鈥檛 you think?

On one such occasion dressed in my white shirt, velvet shorts with three pearl buttons on either side, white socks and a pair of black shoes, I was on my way to church via the bottom road of the estate where smoke screen containers lined the road.

The purpose of these smoke screens when lit at nightime was to produce clouds of black smoke that would hopefully screen the River Tyne and prevent the German airmen from seeing the course of the river reflected by the moonlight and so pinpoint shipyards and any other potential targets.

Unfortunately one of there containers had been overturned and crude oil spilled all over the road. As I tried to negotiate my way passed this dark black sticky mass, my foot slipped and to my horror, and the delight of other, I went sprawling amongst the oil, thereby preventing me partaking in the ceremony.

My father, who was too old to be conscribed for the 1939-45 war volunteered to join the army, I well remember him saying, he wasn鈥檛 fighting for King and country, but for his wife and family. He died after serving in North Africa, Sicily, Italy and the Normandy Landings.

My mother thought for out safety that my two sisters, Molly and Peggy and myself should be evacuated to Carlisle, but my youngest sister Pauline was thought to be too young.

So, with our bags packed, gas masks on our shoulders and each with a luggage label with name and address printed on it pinned onto the coat lapel, off we went by train. It was said to leave home and I was slightly apprehensive about the future. After we disembarked from the train, we loaded onto a bus that took us to a school in Currock, Carlisle. All the children were crowded in a large hall and people came in and picked whom they wanted.

My two sisters and I were separated, as one woman wanted two girls so off went my sisters, I thought we would be kept together as family but it was not so. Then an old grey haired lady wanted two boys so off I went with a boy called Ernie, to my new home.

The kindly old lady who looked after is was a widow and had lived for many years on her own and had no children. I settles into my new surroundings, but Ernie was very homesick and returned home after a few weeks. He was replaced by Stephen who came with a new batch of evacuees, and although Stephen and I were Roman Catholics and attend our church every Sunday morning, as this had been instilled into us, being physically punished at school for Non attendance Mrs Holstead took us to a Non Catholic church on Sunday nights, something unheard of back home and probably classed as a sacrilege, but the atmosphere was much better than in the Catholic church, we also got tea and biscuits.

The countryside around Carlisle was beautiful and I enjoyed playing in the woods and walking by the river watching trout swimming. It was a different world to Tyneside.

Hammonds Park was a favourite venue for me, marred on one occasion when my sister, Peggy, having fallen into the lake proceeded to the Banana Slide, which she put out of action for a while due to dampness, causing dismay to the other waiting children. In the park keepers house garden, there were apples and plum trees; this was the first time I鈥檇 seen fruit growing on trees. I always thought these came from other countries.

After a while, my fellow evacuee, Stephen, returned home along with a number of others, including my sister Peggy making me feel very homesick. Mrs Holstead, my landlady, was very nice and she had a lovely house, but it wasn鈥檛 home, I did not want to tell her I wanted to go home as she was so very kind, but, when relatives sent me postal orders, sometimes 1/ (5p) 2/ (10p) I saved these up till I had enough for my train fare. Then off I went to the station, bought a ticket to Newcastle and went home. I must have caused a lot of worry and distress by not telling anyone but I desperately wanted to go home and I thought if I mentioned it, I would be prevented.

To find out what happened to John when he returned home read 鈥淐hildhood Memories III鈥�

This story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War site by Jim Salveson from the CSV Action Desk on behalf of John Lumsdon and has been added to the site with his / her permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

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