大象传媒

Extracted from my Autobiography. For the benefit and amusement of my grandchildren.

Background: My Mother and the year leading up to the start of the war.

I was 8 years old and living at Margate in Kent where Mother owned and run a Holiday Guest House at 32 Grosvenor Place, my Father having died in 1934.

In the September of 1938, Prime Minister Nevil Chamberlain returned from the Munich conference. He had had a meeting with Adolph Hitler, and on leaving the aeroplane waved that piece of paper proclaiming 鈥楶eace in our time鈥�.

Mother did not trust the news at the time and decided to move back to London, away from the coast of Kent where she expected trouble to arrive from across the channel. Her Guest House business would not have survived anyway if it did come to war, with everybody soon to be called up to serve in the armed forces or work in factories doing war work, and she thought that holidays would be the last thing on people鈥檚 minds.

Mother purchased a new middle terraced house at 215 Sewardstone Road Chingford Essex, for 拢650. This road has since been renamed Waltham Way. She now owned three houses, one in Leyton Essex where she lived when she was first married and now rented out and the Margate property also rented and now the house in Chingford.

My Aunt Edith purchase a house a few doors away at number 247 and lived there with my two cousins and my aunt Alice. Aunt Edith鈥檚 husband had been killed in The Great War. Aunt Alice died from shock during an air raid in 1940.

The tenants who had taken the house at Margate did not pay their rent the first week as they said one of the windows was cracked and the rent money was used to repair it. After the war when we returned that window was still cracked and I don鈥檛 think my Mother ever received much rent, if any, from those tenants. The ornamental cast iron railings at the front of the house were removed on instructions from the government for use as scrap iron for the war effort and later soldiers occupied the house without any payment to my Mother.

In Chingford I attended Chase Lane Junior School and it was from there, that on the day war was declared, Sunday September 3rd 1939, I was evacuated.

Evacuation for the first time.

I was just 9 years old then but I do not remember being very upset about leaving home as all my friends and our teachers were to be evacuated as well.

We waited in the school for the busses which were to take us to safety in the countryside, but they did not turn up as expected and Mother said at the time that she thought it was silly to make us wait in the school with very large glass windows when we were expecting to be bombed at any moment.

While we waited the air raid siren sounded but I think it was a false alarm. Eventually some busses arrived but it was now afternoon and we were getting hungry so we were given packed lunches to eat on the journey.

The bus drivers were not sure which route to take and someone had to be found who knew the way. He sat next to the driver of the first bus to guide the driver on the journey.

My friend Ronald Martin and I managed to get on this bus and off we went with about half a dozen other busses following.

We all carried gas masks in cardboard boxes about 12 cm square with a string so that they could be carried on our shoulders. Pinned to our coats, we had a label with our name and address in case we got lost.

We enjoyed the ride on the bus and our packed lunch boxes and sang during the journey. I can鈥檛 remember what we sang but a song called 鈥楧oing the Lambeth walk鈥� was very popular and we would all shout 鈥極Y鈥� at the end of the chorus.

The location of our destination was kept secret for security reasons. The busses made their way to the Southend on Sea road and stopped at a village called Hawkwell where we alighted and went into the village hall.

The local people who had been informed of our arrival came to offer us accommodation. My friend Ronald and myself said that we wanted to stay together and because of this we were amongst the last to be offered a home.

We were eventually chosen by a couple of retired teachers. At their bungalow we found that we were only allowed outside the gate to attend school. I think that the couple were worried that they would be held responsible if anything happened to us. We were not happy with this situation and asked our teacher if we could be moved.

We were then placed with a couple with three children of their own. Mr and Mrs Bowen who lived at 7 Hawkwell Rise, which was an unmade road. One of their children who was about our age was called Cecil he had a younger sister and an older brother. We enjoyed living with the Bowen family and had lots of freedom to play in the fields surrounding the bungalow.

As the local school could not accommodate this large influx of children, we used the village Hall. Although the hall had a stove at each end it was very cold due to bad insulation and we sat with our coats on during lessons. The teacher let us play games in the hall at break times to keep warm and one of these games involved us all holding hands and running round in a circle. At some point I lost the grip of the person next to me and went flying across the room hitting my head on the coalscuttle.

The teacher carried me home unconscious. Mrs Bowen put me to bed and in the following morning I felt better and returned to school.

One incident, which I remember, happened on a cold day that winter, was when the laundry van became stuck on the icy road and was unable to get back up the hill. Us boys, always ready to help, took Mrs Bowen鈥檚 washing line rope and gave it to the driver who tied it round his wheels and then managed to get his vehicle back up the hill. He thanked us and gave us back the now ruined washing line that we took back to Mrs Bowen. She was not pleased and gave us a good ear bashing. It didn鈥檛 seem fair to us as we were only trying to help.

We stayed with the Bowen family until the following June. At this time the British army was being evacuated from Dunkirk and the country might at any moment be invaded by the German army.

Evacuation for the second time.

We were quickly collected with all our belongings and taken to the railway station and put on a train to the West Country. Mrs Bowen was sorry to see us go and made us promise to write to her. This promise we did not keep and I always regretted that I did not keep in touch with this family. Recently I revisited Hawkwell and found the bungalow but all the fields where used play have roads and house build on them.

The journey to the West Country, was very long and tiring with frequent stops when our train was shunted into sidings to allow troop trains to pass, full of soldiers from Dunkirk. We were not told what had happened in France and did not know where all these soldiers were coming from or going to but we waved our caps at them and cheered from the carriage windows.

Eventually, we arrived at Newport in Monmouthshire and were allowed to emerge from the train to board busses.

We were taken to the Town Hall in Coleford Gloucestershire. Here again local people came to choose which children they took a fancy to and again Ronald Martin and myself insisted on staying together. This again made us nearly the last to be chosen.

A man in a uniform with a white covered hat said he would take us to his mother鈥檚 house just up the hill from the town centre. We took him to be a Naval Officer but he turned out to be a bus driver named Alf Poulton.

Carrying our belongings and gas masks etc we followed Alf up the hill to his Mother鈥檚 house at number 9 High Nash. Mrs Poulton was a very nice old lady and she welcomed us warmly.

She lived in a council house with no electricity and only had gas cooking and lighting down stairs. Upstairs candles had to be used. Mains water was laid on but there was still a well in the back garden, the water from which was still used for washing. Mrs Poulton said that the well water was soft which she preferred for her Monday washing day.

In the kitchen there was a double acting pump with a long handle, which had to be pumped back and forth to pump the water from the well to a tank in the roof space. We were given the task of pumping the water to fill the loft tank every Saturday before we were allowed out to play. Mrs Poulton knew when the tank was full as there was an overflow pipe over the kitchen sink, and only when water issued from this pipe were we allowed to go out to play.

There was a modern Bath Room upstairs with a gas geyser to heat the water but all the time we lived at this house we never used this bath once. On Friday bath night we had a galvanised bathtub placed in front of the living room fire and hot water was carried from the kitchen in buckets to fill it. We both had to use the same water and there was always an argument as to who was to go first. Afterwards the bathtub was carried to the back door and tipped out.

In the back garden there was a brick built toilet but now only used as a shed for garden tools.
Alf used to grow lots of vegetables. This was very important during the war as food was strictly rationed and some food was in short supply. There was only a tiny lawn, about 4 square metres the grass of which we had to cut with a small pair of shears.

Alf Poulton was employed by The Blue Bus Company, which had a garage in the town centre. Another bus company operated in the area called The Red Bus Company and Alf used to speak of them as if they were the enemy. After the war it bought out Alf鈥檚 company and closed it down, so it appears, Alf had good reason to dislike it.

Mrs Poulton had a wireless set in the living room, powered by a battery and an accumulator, which had to be recharged each week. Alf got this done free at the bus garage and fitted his spare one in the mean time.

We used to listen, with Mrs Poulton, to the 9 O鈥檆lock news on the 大象传媒 Home Service to keep up with the progress of the war. On Sundays, after the news, the 大象传媒 broadcast the National Anthems of all the allied Nations and then read out secret messages intended for our agents in France and other occupied countries. We did not understand these messages, of course, but it was exciting to listen to them knowing that out secret agents were waiting to receive them.

We attended Coleford School, which was about a 20-minute walk from the house. We still had our own teachers from Chingford with us, but the local Headmaster was very strict. I don鈥檛 think he took kindly to the idea of all these evacuees being pushed onto him. One thing that upset him more than anything was when he was told that he must provide us with a hot mid-day meal. At morning assembly he told us that each day we would have to bring a basin and spoon and the school would provide hot soup and bread and that鈥檚 all because he was not going to turn his school into a caf茅. That is just what we got for the next three years.

Each class had about 20 children but as the war progressed the class sizes increased as one by one our teachers were called up to serve in the armed forces. My teacher was Ben Cluff and we got on with him very well and as he was interested in country walks he offered to take us out walking with him to visit interesting places in the area.

We enjoyed these outings. On one occasion, when visiting Symonds Yat, a beauty spot over looking the River Wye, a newspaper reporter took our picture and it was published in a national newspaper. I have a copy of this photo sent me by Ben and on the reverse is written 鈥楪ood Luck August 5th 1940 Ben Cluff鈥�. Soon after this Ben was called up to serve in the RAF. I do hope he survived the war.

Nobody knew how long the war was going to last and our woodwork teacher at school hoarded his precious wood supply as he knew he would have great difficulty in replacing it while the war was still on, so the projects we were given involved just small amounts of wood. My first effort was to make a garden dibber, which I gave to Alf to use in his garden. Another thing I made was a coat rack, this was a piece of wood about 10cm wide and 50cm long with three pegs protruding through it. I made the ends curved and in between the pegs I wanted to carve a pair of ducks but I was told that I might find this two difficult but I managed it and still have this 鈥榳ork of art鈥�.

While living at Coleford, Mother came down to visit and Mrs Poulton took Ronald and myself to Gloucester to meet her from the train. She stayed for a week, which was her holiday entitlement from her work at The Flexo Plywood Company where she was working which was in Hall Lane Chingford. She worked as a hydraulic press operator making plywood that was used in the manufacture of aircraft. I enjoyed having her stay with us was sorry to see her return to London.

We are moved to temporary accomadation.

Mrs Poulton became ill with Phlebitis and was told that she had to have complete rest so Ronald and I were taken to another house where the couple were members of a strict religious sect and we had to obey their rules about Sunday observance. We were only allowed to read the Bible or other religious books on Sundays, no comic books were to be looked at on that day, but they were very nice people and we both got on very well with them.

The man was a salesman working for a confectionary firm and he had a Morris 8 car in which he would visit shops in The Forest of Dean to take orders for sweets etc. Having a car was the height of luxury for as and we accompanied him sometimes when not at school. He was very proud of his little car and showed us how it could do 60 miles per hour.

He was a lay-preacher and used to visit various churches in the Forest of Dean. We had to go with them of course but found it quite interesting going to all these small churches, most of which had no electricity or gas and were lit and heated by oil lamps.

There was a telephone in their house and Mother telephoned me from her friend鈥檚 house in Chingford but the line was very poor and the lady said afterwards 鈥� All I could hear you saying was Pardon, Pardon鈥�. We stayed with this family for about a month and then returned to Mrs Poulton.

Back with Mrs Poulton and attending Chapel.

Mrs Poulton went to the Baptist Chapel in Coleford every Sunday and we had to accompany her. We also had to attend Sunday school, which was next door to the Chapel. 10am on Sundays found us at Sunday school and at 11am we went into Chapel for morning service and at 2pm back to Sunday school and in the evening we went with Mrs Poulton to evening service in the Chapel.

I still have a book called 鈥楳idshipman Easy鈥� presented to me for good attendance at Sunday school. The superintendent was a Miss Taylor, an elderly lady who was a local landowner and lived in a large house up the hill towards High Nash. To us she seemed fabulously rich and had servants even in wartime time. Her front garden was very large and the rear garden seemed to go on forever, being a large park.

Miss Taylor knew that we attended Chapel with Mrs Poulton and asked us if we would like to join the choir. We thought it would be more interesting than just sitting in the pew eating sweets waiting for the last hymn to be announced, so we agreed.

Some time later she invited us to tea at her house, which we thought was very grand. Her maid brought us tea and cakes in the drawing room where Miss Taylor sat and chatted to us. She asked me if I would sing a solo at the harvest service that autumn. I must have been so awed by the surroundings that I agreed but because I was nervous I asked that my friend Fred Jones, a local boy, could accompany me. Miss Taylor was a bit taken aback at this suggestion but did not refuse my condition.

Harvest Festival service Sunday arrived and it found me standing up at the alter, in an unusually full Chapel as the congregational church members had joined us for the service. Fred Jones had mysteriously not appeared and there I was all on my own. I cannot recall what I had been rehearsing but sing it I did and was very surprised at the congregation鈥檚 reaction, they clapped, which was unheard of during a religious service. Later Mrs Poulton told me that Miss Taylor had led the applause. Mrs Poulton was very impressed.

After Chapel, Mrs Poulton would sometimes take us for a walk and call on some of her friend鈥檚 houses one of which was a farm. We liked going to the farm to see all the work going on even on Sundays. They had a cider apple orchard and made their own cider with a huge press. The juice was squeezed out of the fruit and it was left to ferment into strong cider, which we never got the chance to try.

I get a chance to earn some extra pocket money.

The boy who had the job of pumping the Chapel organ wanted to give up the job and it was offered to me. It involved pumping a lever up and down to pump air into the organ. There was a lead weight attached to a wire hanging through a hole near the pump handle and when pumping it was necessary to keep the weight between two marks carved in the wood panelling. This ensured that the correct amount of air was in the organ when it was being played. It seemed to me that there was a constant battle going on between the organist and myself, there was I pumping like mad putting air in and there was he pushing keys and pulling knobs letting it all out again.

On one occasion I did not react quickly enough after receiving his signal and by the time I started pumping the weight had gone up too far and the notes were quite flat. I got a dirty look from the organist who could see me through a strategically placed mirror fitted to the corner of the organ.

I was paid a shilling a week for this job but after about a year an electric pump was installed making my job redundant.

The W V S job.

Miss Taylor was also involved with the WVS (Woman鈥檚 Voluntary Service) and she asked Ronald and myself if we would like a job helping them with delivering the food to the service men鈥檚 canteen up the hill toward High Nash. Always ready to earn an honest shilling we jumped at the chance.

The job involved collecting bread and cakes from the WVS office each day on our way home from school and pushing the load up the hill in a box on wheels. It was hard work pushing that barrow up the hill full of goodies for the soldiers but as it was on our way home from school, we did not have to go out of our way at all. For this job we received two shillings a week each.

Ronald also had got himself a job at the post office as a telegram boy delivering telegrams at two pence a time on a red post office bicycle.

The Americans Army arrives.

American soldiers who had a camp about a mile past our house, also used the forces canteen. Most of these soldiers were black and this was something new as we had never seen black soldiers before and they created a lot of interest in the town. There were some white soldiers at the camp but they did not mix with the black ones and even crossed the road to avoid passing each other. Mrs Poulton remarked about this peculiar behaviour.

Miss Taylor鈥檚 house was nearly opposite the canteen and we often saw her maids in the front garden chatting with the soldiers in a place where Miss Taylor could not see them.

Where we played.

Just down the hill from the forces canteen the railway line passed under road to Coleford station. The station yard was another of our 鈥楶laygrounds鈥� where we used to climb onto the coal lorries. Sometimes we helped the coalmen fill the sacks ready to be placed on the lorry and if we were lucky got a ride for our efforts.

The railway was only used for goods traffic mainly coal as there were several mines nearby. We would sometimes walk along the track to find brightly coloured stones between the sleepers for our collection. We put coins on the track and waited for an engine to come along to flatten them. The station has since been closed and it became an open-air museum.

Opposite the WVS office was the town blacksmith shop. It was nice in there in the cold weather where the blacksmith let us pump the bellows as he heated iron bars to make horseshoes in the furnace. At that time there were a great many horses still employed on farms so he always had
plenty of work.

Apart from visiting the Americans at their camp and watching the Home Guard putting on displays in the town, we did not see much of the war in Coleford. The Home Guard displays though, were worth watching with their mock battles using blanks and thunder flashes.

We did our bit to help the war effort.

A mobile cinema would visit Coleford on occasion to give us a free show but the films were mainly about telling us how we could help the war effort and we did our bit by making camouflage nets for the army at school.

A pattern net would arrive which we laid on the floor which we covered with a new net and with strips of coloured sackcloth wove a pattern in it to exactly match the sample. One day when we were ready for this work the pattern net did not arrive so we made up our own and sent in a dozen nets for inspection.

The trouble this caused was terrible, you would think we were going to loose the war because of it. Eventually the nets we had designed were given an official number, but we were warned not to do it again.

We also worked on farms for 5 pence an hour picking up stones to prevent damage to farm machines. We picked rose hips for medicines and acorns for pig food. We also planted potatoes and to save on the seed potatoes we had to cut them in half and plant them at 50cm intervals. The potato juice made your hands very sore in the cold wind.

The RAF brings a bit of excitment to Coleford.

An RAF lorry brought a Messerschmitt 109 and placed it in the town square. I think the German pilot must have been able to land it as it was hardly damaged. If we bought a sixpenny saving stamp we were allowed to sit in the cockpit and work the controls. We all had a go at this but were told to go as we were making too much noise so we trouped across to the Post Office and cashed in our sixpenny saving stamps again.

Milk Deliveries.

Mrs Poulton鈥檚 milkman delivered the milk in a small churn which he carried round to the back door, and with a ladle, measured it out into her jug. She promptly put the jug into a saucepan of boiling water and this she called scolding the milk. She said it prevented the milk from going sour. Today we would say the milk had been pasteurised.

There was another milkman in the district who delivered bottled milk from a van and to get a ride in his van I volunteered to help him but I soon got fed up with this as he smoked strong roll up cigarettes, which made me travel sick.

I went to help the girl in the dairy who cleaned and refilled the bottles instead. For my trouble received a half-pint bottle of milk to take home.

In the dairy, Kate and I washed the bottles and refilled them from a thigh level tank with taps at the bottom.

Alf Poulton used to tease me about this by singing the wartime song 鈥楰a Ka Ka Katie, she鈥檚 the girl that I adore鈥� and I think he may have been correct but I got my own back by asking him how was his toothy girlfriend. She was his 鈥楥lippie鈥� on his bus and had protruding teeth but he always said her teeth suited her.

Alf has problems with the police.

Alf did get upset one day when he was stopped for speeding by a policeman. He was reported for driving his bus at 32 miles per hour on the road to Stanton. He was fined 5 shillings, which was nearly half a day鈥檚 pay. He said his bus was not fitted with a speedometer as his bus was a 1936 model and were not fitted by law until 1937.

Flowers and fruit for Mrs Poulton.

Daffodil Valley was about two miles from Coleford and in the spring we would bring home armfuls of flowers for Mrs Poulton and in the summer we went blackberry picking for jam making and collected hazel nuts from the hedges.

The end of my evacuation.

In 1943, long after the threat of invasion had passed, I asked Mother if I could return home to Chingford and she agreed.

My brother, Frank, had by this time joined The Roal Navy, having been turned down twice before because it was considered that the factory where he worked, needed him more than did the Admiralty. He served on the Atlantic convoys in a Distroyer but spent a lot of time in Iceland and later in Egypt.

It was a long long war, and my story continues under heading of "Back home in Chingford".

Derek Wetenhall.

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