大象传媒

THIS STORY WAS ADDED BY A 大象传媒 RADIO BRISTOL CSV VOLUNTEER.
My name was Joy Scull and I was born in June 1933. I was attending St Michaels School and I remember that one day, my brother Phillip and my Mother and I went to the Alms Houses on St Michaels Hill were, set out in a big room were piles of clothing, shoes and small cardboard suitcases. We were told to take the basic pieces of clothing we needed to take to the country. My brother, who is eighteen months older than me, and I, were taken to Temple Meads Station a few days later, a label tied to our coats, our gas maskes and our little suitcases.
So many Mothers, all crying, but as far as I can remember all I felt was excitement at going on a train. The only time I cried was when I lost my new hankie out of the train window when I was waving goodbye.
We eventually reached Torrington in Devon and about twenty or thirty of us children were taken to the Village Hall and lined up. The villagers who had room to take in children came and walked along the line choosing which child they would take.
Fortunately I was taken by two ladies and taken to their very pretty house.
They had a little dog and I had my own little bedroom. I found out later that my brother and another little girl called Agnes Archer were the only children left and nobody wanted them. They were put into a hostel.
All of us children were sent to the Blue Coat School in Torrington so we met each other most days.It was very strange living in the country. We were afraid of the cows and horses. I remember a small group of us were watching a blacksmith making horseshoes and he was throwing them from the furnace on to the floor and they were white hot.My brother dared me to pick one up, I only knew that hot things were RED so I promptly picked it up. The blacksmith had to pull it from my badly burnt hand. We learnt our lessons the hard way.My brother was eventually taken in by an old couple who weren't very nice to him, not feeding him and ill treating him. He was able to write to my Mum and she immediatly came to Torrington. I took her hours and hours to get there as the trains had to stop in tunnels when enemy aircraft came overhead.
My Mother went straight to the place my brother was staying and took him away. I remember the doorbell ringing at the house where I was staying and I went to the door to find my Mum And Brother stood there. The pleasure and joy was overwhelming and I was upstaris packing my little suitcase in two minutes.T he ladies I was billetted with wanted me to stay but I could'nt possibly, all I wanted was to go home with my Mum.
We came back to Bristol in time for all the bombing raids. I was young enough to enjoy the air raids as we all went into a big shelter and we were told stories and sang songs and my Mum had a special tin and we were allowed one sweet each so it was almost like a party. After there had been an air raid I remember sneaking out with my brother looking for pieces of shrapnel and sometimes they were still warm.When the sirens went during the day we were led from our school in Tankards Close, marched as quickly as possible down St Michaels Hill and into the crypt of St Michaels Church. One such day, after the all clear, we were sent home. We lived on Montague Hill so we had to pass the B.R.I. There was so much activity going on, all sorts of vehicles were pulling up the main entrance, which was then by the Infirmary Steps, and bodies and injured people were being off loaded, not covered , some not even on stretchers, no one moved us on, we just stood there opened mouthed not believing our eyes. This was the aftermath of the daylight raid on Filton Aerdrome where so many people wer injured and killed.
The house next door to our's was burnt to the groun by an incendiary bomb and I remember feeling the walls of our house as they got hotter and hotter. The fear and stress our parents suffered must have been dreadful but to us children it was a huge adventure. I am just so glad I was no older.

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