大象传媒

I honestly don鈥檛 know how old any of us were, I only know I was about 8 years of age, Colleen my sister was 20 months younger than me and Michael 15 months younger than her. The baby of the family, Sheila, was too young to be evacuated; she had to stay with our mother. The war was in its infancy.
How clearly I remember getting up one morning with Mum crying and trying to pack three small suitcases with the clothing she thought we would need. Frantically trying to make sandwiches, regardless of the fact she had been told we would be provided with some sort of food whilst we were on the train going to heavens only knew where. I have a feeling that whilst she didn鈥檛 tell us she was in full knowledge of exactly where that would be.
Time soon came for us to leave the house, a young crying mum and three small children with gas masks slung over their shoulders, labels attached to clothing, paper bags holding sandwiches grasped firmly in hands. If Mum had not been crying I think we would have considered this to be the adventure of our young lives.
When we got to St.Barnabus school in Snakes Lane, it seemed everyone from the neighbourhood was there with their children all displaying the same type of label, gas mask and suitcase as we three had, with most Mums in the same state as ours. Watching them all made me think that perhaps we were not going on such a big adventure, and it hit home even harder when we were kissed goodbye and Mum stressed on us 鈥淏e good and remember all stick together, don鈥檛 let any one separate you.鈥�
It鈥檚 funny how memories sticks, I still hear the roll call. children answering and if they didn鈥檛 Mothers answering for them, Strangely enough I don鈥檛 remember many Dads being there and yet to my mind they should have been, this happened in the very early days of the war.
The playground was full of buses and coaches, mothers and babies and those children being evacuated were allocated a bus number and when it was full the engine was revved and away we went, every child trying to hold the vision of their mother for as long as they could. We were, I suppose, very resilient creatures because it wasn鈥檛 long before we were driving through the streets of London singing the songs that were current at the moment, 鈥淚t鈥檚 a Long Way to Tipperary鈥� 鈥淜nees up Mother Brown鈥� anything that came into mind.
When we got to the railway station there were loud cheers, the steam train was puffing clouds of steam and none of us three had ever seen anything like it and I now suspect we were not the only ones viewing such a sight for the first time. It didn鈥檛 take long for us to be issued into different carriages and fortunately my family was left together. The train left the station and the carriage windows were crammed with children, shouting, singing, crying, eating 鈥� doing all the things that came naturally in those times.
My brother decided he need the toilet and by the time we found one it was too late, so being the eldest I had to take care of that, wash his bottom, change his knickers and pants and in general clean him up. What I did to his dirty pants slips my memory
I can鈥檛 honestly remember how long it took us to get where we were going, which turned out to be Tavistock, Devon, but suddenly it was everyone off the train and into this hall with a walkway high up in the heavens. People were looking down at the children and pointing to this one or that agreeing to house whichever one they had chosen.
Every time some one pointed to Colleen, Michael or myself there were wails that Mum had told us to stick together and not to be separated and at the time in that particular hall there was no one willing to take three little strangers into their home. It wasn鈥檛 long before the hall was empty of evacuees and people willing to take them in. The only three children left were Valerie, Colleen and Michael.
Our faith had always been Roman Catholic and because of this we were taken in by the Nuns and the school they were running, which had been evacuated in their entirety. That night the three of us were fed, watered and bedded and the next days the nuns did a search throughout the devout Catholics in the area, initially looking for some one to take all three of us and finding this an impossibility, to at least find families to take us in, either by ones or twos. Colleen and Michael were housed with a lady on her own whilst I was placed with a married couple and their young son.
Being so young Michael did not notice anything amiss but Colleen hated where they were. The lady herself was nice, in her own way, but she wasn鈥檛 Mum and any way she made the most awful hats for Colleen to wear.
There were things I was not happy with in the family I had been placed with. and so it was back to the convent for me. The nuns did their best for all the children in their care but I found it strange to bathe in a big nightdress and as for drinking the nightly cocoa - yuk! Mostly they weren鈥檛 Mummy and although I don鈥檛 think I cried as much as Colleen I still wanted to go home.
Came the day when Mum and Dad brought baby Sheila down to Tavistock to see us, and although they had no intention of taking us back with them when Dad found Colleen and Michael in the doorway of a pub with a bottle of lemonade and a packet of crisps waiting for their lady to finish her drink and take them to their billet, there was no delay, the children鈥檚 clothing was picked up, I was collected, and we were homeward bound. I think we must have been so happy to be on the way home that none of us can remember just how we did get back. Even with bombs falling, planes flying overhead every night, nothing spoiled our joy.
Once we got home to our own house and beds it came out how many times Colleen had sat in the window crying for Mummy to come and get her and Michael and take them home.
By now Dad was in the Army and soon went back to his regiment so Mum was left with four children and no man in the house, and although we had the Anderson shelter in the garden she felt happier when there was a male around. The times we ran across the road to Mum鈥檚 friends house, even though the air-raid warning had gone. Mum pushing the pram with the youngest one Sheila in it, Michael holding on one side, and Colleen the other.
Some times we had Granny living with us and I so clearly remember seeing her with her Gladstone bag which contained all her worldly possessions, tucked under one arm, an umbrella held in the other, as she said 鈥渢o keep me save from shrapnel鈥� running as fast as she could on legs that were slightly bandy to get to the safety of the house over the road. I do remember and it always brings a smile to my face, the day she put the colander on her head to run with.
Through all this and what came later none of us children nor Mum ever had any regrets that she brought us back home under her wing

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