大象传媒

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We were known as the Andrews family from Chelsfield, Kent. My brother Richard (known as Dickie) aged nine, my sister Linda, three years old and myself Rita aged eight.

After hugs, kisses and reassurance from mum and dad, we set out for a very long train journey from Orpington to North Wales. After an overnight stay at Four Crosses church hall, with memorable pillow fights, we were taken to Trefor, a mountain village for billeting with Welsh families.

Dickie was soon selected and stayed with a very quiet couple with one son, lovely people but quite unprepared for a lively young boy.

Linda and I were the last to be taken because people were reluctant to take two children and I had strict instructions from mum that we must not be separated, a great responsibility for an eight year old, but a decision that would have a great bearing on the rest of our lives.

We seemed to wait forever for someone to come and choose us then finally the door opened and a middle aged lady came in to view and chat to us and the billeting officers before going home to confirm that her husband was prepared for two young girls to invade their house. Fortunately, a decision was soon made and we were taken to our new home and the next phase of our adventure.

To our amazement, our first meal was as much ham and tomatoes as we could eat with copious slices of bread and butter. We were so accustomed to mean rations for a family of five, it was a great introduction to being an evacuee.

We soon settled down with Auntie Miriam and Uncle Charlie who proved to be the most wonderful people to be with, introducing us to so many new experiences and, in particular, the Welsh humour and way of life. Deep friendships were made for life.

Dickie, as I hinted, was into everything, not bad but mischievous and proved more than his family could cope with, so mother was summoned from Kent to take us home after ten months.

For us, Rita and Linda, most summers were an opportunity for a visit to Trefor continuing as teenagers and later when both married, visits with husbands were on a fairly regular basis.

Sadly, in the 1960鈥檚, uncle died and auntie ten years later but their last wish was that we should inherit their cottage.

Some 64 years later, I have moved from London to live permanently in Trefor, with Linda visiting for holidays. Arfon, the quiet son Dickie stayed with, still lives in Trefor with his wife and family and I often chat about times long gone and Dickie has been forgiven by all.

As I suggested earlier, evacuation proved to have a very great impact on all our lives and one we wouldn鈥檛 have missed.

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