大象传媒

Recollections of a Wartime Childhood (Part 2)

The biggest increase to the population of the parish was the influx of evacuees who were assigned to us. Our contingent came from Bootle, a suburb of Liverpool. Not many homes remained undisturbed by this infantile invasion and the ranks in the village school were considerably swelled. It was fortunate that these were the days of 鈥渘ot sparing the rod鈥� 鈥� otherwise bedlam would have reigned under such chaotic conditions. As it was, the ebullient natures of the city dwellers were subdued by blasts of the whistle as they formed into lines in the schoolyard before walking orderly into school for lessons.

The bulky gas mask boxes with which everyone had been issued 鈥� plus their luncheon satchels, added to the discomfort of an overcrowded classroom.

Many children walked over hill and down dale to school from their homes far away, and would, on rainy days, arrive wet and bedraggled. Their clothing would be hung to dry on the guards surrounding the open fires, or slow burning coke stove, in the draughty classrooms. No school buses in those days, nor school dinners.

The school windows were dimmed by the criss crossing of sticky brown paper tape to prevent the shattering of glass in the event of an air raid.

The headmaster, Mr Barraclough, of whom we were all 鈥渁feared鈥�, left for active service early in the war, and his place was taken by his wife, assisted by Miss Priddy, now Mrs Bufton, and Miss Dalton, the evacuee teacher. Happily, Mrs Bufton still lives in the village.

At school we had our own war effort. We adopted a ship in the merchant navy under the captaincy of Captain Rue, to whom we regularly wrote and sent parcels of knitted socks and mitts for the crew. Captain Rue was very appreciative and corresponded regularly. We also knitted for the army and the air force.

Owing to the mining of The Waters, the activity of enemy aircraft and U-boats, few ships were able to cross the oceans. This made not only food in short supply, but also much needed drugs and medication for our fighting forces. To 鈥渄o our bit鈥� towards this particular aspect, we collected foxglove seeds which we understood were used in the manufacture of medicinal products for heart ailments. The tempting sum of 7/6d per 1-lb was to be paid for this product, but it was not until we began this collection that we realised the enormity of the task of firstly finding these flowers and then only obtaining minute weightless quantities from each one!

We also had another school in our midst, Hill House School, under the headship of Miss Northridge, who had moved from Hornchurch in Essex to the safety of Llanfair-Waterdine Vicarage. Her young pupils helped to swell the congregation at Sunday morning service at St. Mary鈥檚.

The Vicarge was now bereft of a vicar for the young incumbent, the Revd Leonard Thomas had been called up on active service and was a Chaplain in the Army. Whilst there, he met and married his wife Lilian, a nursing sister, who came to live at the Vicarage where later their two children, David and Olivia were born.

Hill House School organised their own Brownie Pack and invited local girls to become members. This was quite an innovation for the village and we were delighted to join with the new residents and become Fairies, Pixies or Elves under the leadership of Brown Owl, Miss Mary Beavan.

Also at the Vicarage the new Mrs Thomas ran a series of weekly evening classes on First Aid and Home Nursing, at which local ladies learned how to treat any wartime casualties, which may arise.

The evacuees, at first, were like uncaged animals, never had they seen such empty wide-open spaces, or enjoyed such freedom. They ran around field, across hillsides, scaled rocks and climbed trees. The villages of Lloyney and Llanfair echoed with their unfamiliar brogue and dialect. (A premature introduction to 鈥淏rookside鈥�?)

They did not arrive without their problems, some, at first, refused to undress for bed, others refused to get into bed preferring to sleep beneath, the result of nightly air raids, it was presumed. Whilst some, it was claimed, were actually sewn into their clothing and had to have it cut away!

Mealtimes, too, presented difficulties, wholesome country-fare held no appeal, and they had to be coaxed, cajoled or maybe starved, into attempting it!

Whatever they were, they had our sympathy for the traumas they had experienced, and were still experiencing at being catapulted by circumstance into the unknown, and to a way of life that was completely different. Many were homesick, and undoubtedly there would be those who suffered from symptoms of agoraphobia.

Gradually, as the Battle of Britain, and the blitz on London and Liverpool subsided, their numbers dwindled. Many kept in touch with their wartime homes for years, some still do, and there were those, a few, who came and stayed, and dwell amongst us to this day, now completely naturalized, proud Salopians.

Adding still further to the number of 鈥渇oreigners鈥� now housed in the parish, were the real foreigners, the unfortunate, unhappy prisoners-of-war, who were held in captivity over the hill at a camp in Presteigne. These were Italian and German nationals, unwilling residents, obviously, but who settled on some of our local farms and were made to feel as much at home as was possible under the circumstances. After the war they, too, kept up friendships for years to come.

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