大象传媒

A family鈥檚 war - a child鈥檚 impression of WW2.

Parents were advised to send their children for evacuation and so my mother, myself and four brothers were sent by train from Mansfield St. School, Manchester to Market Drayton, Shropshire. Mum and youngest brother Frank (aged 3 yrs.) went to one billet, Edward and Peter to another and Arthur and myself (Freda) to another 鈥� all within a short walking distance from each other. We were each given a small parcel of food containing a tin of corned beef and a bar of chocolate. It was a frightening experience for children who had never been away from home or even seen the countryside. The people who took us into their homes were strict country people and in those days children were definitely supposed to be seen, but not heard! Some of the country homes had only candles or oil lamps 鈥� no electricity in those days. Because of the shortage of teachers we were assembled into a parish room and all taught together, without any desks, books or pencils. During the first cold winter months we were often sent home to our billets, as there was no adequate heating in the hall. Consequently, we were given hardly any education for about a year. The couple of male teachers who came with us from Manchester were called up into the forces. Many of the evacuees were unhappy and persuaded their parents to take them back to Manchester and some children even attempted to walk back along the railway tracks. We were finally left with only one Manchester teacher and perhaps a dozen children and were integrated into the local schools and from then on we received a good standard of education.

鈥淲ar time Proper.鈥�

After a while Dad persuaded Mum to return home and she asked Mrs.Hughes, who already had Edward and Peter to have Arthur and Frank, thus keeping my four brothers together. I felt very lonely, particularly as I was not in a happy environment and I began to fret and became ill. When Mum visited us later on she realised the situation and so took me back home to Manchester. Unfortunately, it was just at the time of the Manchester Blitz. Dad was on duty with the air-raid wardens and Mum was just getting the evening meal ready when we heard the sirens going. Mum carried on with the cooking and said that we would go into the air-raid shelter later. However, suddenly this terrible droning sound began 鈥� like a huge ball rolling down the street, and Mum shouted for me to run under the stairwell. Then there was a mighty bang and Mum said 鈥淕et your coat on, let鈥檚 run.鈥� We ran all the way to the shelters with shrapnel dropping around us and Mum told me to keep close to the walls. We stayed in the shelter all night and at times the lights went out and machinery rolled above us. The shelter was in the cellar of a huge building. When the lights went out people were screaming and we could hear bombs dropping all around us. The next morning when we tried to go home we were stopped, as there was an unexploded bomb at the end of our street. I think it was the bomb which had dropped when we were in our house the evening before and so we had a very lucky escape. If it had exploded on impact, I wouldn鈥檛 be here 60 years later writing my story. We walked several miles that morning trying to find a Post Office, so that we could send a telegram to Market Drayton to say that we were safe. All along the streets we could smell escaping gas and there was glass and debris everywhere. People who had been bombed out of their homes were walking about with bundles of clothes etc wrapped in sheets. We eventually arrived at my aunt鈥檚 house in Northenden and Mum left me in her care whilst she went back home to try and find Dad. I was sent back to Market Drayton a week later.

Mum and Dad鈥檚 war work.

Mum worked full time sewing ground sheets and capes for soldiers and Dad kept on his usual job of selling aerowater and spirits - delivering them with a horse and cart. He was also an air-raid warden and one or two nights a week he was on the Ack-Ack guns with the Home Guard. He was not drafted into the forces, as he was diagnosed as having a heart murmur. During the Blitz night he was sent to the railway station, where a train had been bombed, and was helping to get injured passengers out of the train. He pulled a protruding arm out of the debris and was very sick when he realised that it was just an arm 鈥� no body attached. Apparently, it was several nights before he could go back on duty.

Summary.

Although my brothers and I always wished that we could go home we were evacuated for four years. I can now understand that our parents thought we were safer and healthier in the countryside and for the first time our mother was able to earn money by doing essential war work. In retrospect the long stay in Market Drayton gave us all the love of the countryside, which has stayed with us all our lives. My four brothers stayed happily in the same billet, thanks to a strict, but fair, Mrs. Hughes. Unfortunately, I was put into five different billets and often felt lonely and unhappy, especially as I was separated from my brothers. The happiest times were when I met up with them and we played in the woods at the top of Salisbury Hill, making dens and swinging from ropes on the trees. During the summer times we often went to the outdoor swimming baths as Mum had bought us all a season ticket. Mum visited us about once a fortnight and she would bring us new clothes and little gifts. Dad once or twice came for a few days fishing holiday. Towards the end of the war Mum and Dad were re-housed and first to go home was eldest brother Edward, then the other three boys and finally myself when I was 12 years old. I had to wait until the family were in our new house as I had to have a separate bedroom.

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