大象传媒

My first memory of Wartime was, aged almost 5, watching the troops march down the main road from the upstairs window of my parents' public house after returning from Sunday School on that day in September 1939. Little did I know of the drastic changes which were about to take place in my life!
As an only child adopted by a previously childless couple, I had led a cossetted first four years, when I had been allowed to invite anyone in the neighbourhood to my lavish Christmas and Birthday parties - held in the large clubroom at the pub.

Soon after this, I was put on a coach from Hastings, along with the rest of my classmates (all of us thinking we were having a day out as a treat). We ended up during the evening at a School in the village of Tewin in Hertfordshire. We slept in the School overnight and the following day various local residents arrived to collect us one by one. I'm not sure whether we had been allocated to them, or whether they had a choice regarding who they would take into their home.

In some ways I was lucky!! I went to a poultry farm, where food shortages did not seem to be a problem. The farm was run by a single lady, who also looked after her elderly mother (who had an ear trumpet) Neither of these ladies had any experience of young children or what punishments were appropriate for their misdemeanours. Two 5 year-old girls were billetted here

We were encouraged to make holes in horse chestnuts to make conkers and when we had finished there was a scratch on the table. Being the slowest to deny responsibility, I spent the rest of the day locked in the garden shed until it was dark. I think the farm dog was the culprit!!

Whilst I was there, I contracted a mastoid and went into hospital for an operation - this meant staying in hospital over Christmas. On the day I came out of hospital, a scrumptious-looking tea had been laid out in the sitting room and I couldn't resist
dipping my finger in the icing sugar on top of a sponge cake. My finger mark was spotted, and I went to bed with no tea!!

The worst time I remember was when my birthday was approaching and I, as usual, invited all my school friends to tea. The children arrived to find that there was no party and were all sent home again - once more, yours truly went to bed with no tea!!

The other girl (I think her name was Anne) told her parents that she was unhappy and was taken away. For some reason, I kept these things to myself and stayed there until the single lady wanted to marry.

I then went to another, very different, home, where I had very different experiences. But that's another story for another day!

My next 'billet' was a council house in the same Hertfordhire village, where I lived with Mr and Mre Edwards, who were very kind, but extremely religious. Every evening before bed we all sat round the fire and read a passage from the Bible and on Sundays we went to Chapel in the morning and the evening (sometimes with Sunday School sandwiched in between). Mr and Mrs Edwards had a son named John, who was a little older than me(are you still out there John, and do you still play the piano?) I had piano lessons while I was staying here, but John was much better than me. In the main I was happy here, as far as it is possible to be happy when you are separated from your family. For some reason of which I was never aware, I was moved to St. Albans to stay with Mr and Mrs Wilton, who had a grown up family who only came home when they had leave from the forces. Mr Wilton worked for a large chemical company in Welwyn Garden City and I remember being taken on the back of his motor-bike to see the factory on Sunday mornings. (No crash helmets in those days!) Mr Wilton also taught me the Greek alphabet, which I have never forgotten. Whilst I was staying with the Wiltons, the fortnightly visits from my parents suddenly stopped; I was told that my Dad was not well and they would come and see me again when he was better. One day near the end of the Summer of 1942, I was told that my Daddy didn't get better and my Mum was going to visit the following day. As pleased as I was to be seeing my Mum again, I scarcely had time to recover from my weeping before she arrived.

My Mum and Dad had been working as a couple in a public house in North Finchley and after the funeral, my Mum's Sister and her husband took over Mum and Dad's job and they kept my Mum on as a cashier. There was a lull in the war at this particular time and my Mum wanted me with her. The landlord of the pub kindly let me stay there in her room. I attended the local School in North Finchley until Hitler started sending over his doodle-bugs, when the entire School was evacuated to Tyneside. I found myself in a miner's cottage in the village of Winlaton, County Durham; I stayed with Mr and Mrs Beveridge and their daughter Marion, who was slightly younger than me. These were very kind people and my main memories were: Mrs Beveridge being a very good cook and producing mouthwatering meals and cakes from a stove at the side of the fire; the living room being cleared every night for Mr Beveridge to have his bath in front of the fire-range when he came home from the mine; a hot brick, wrapped up in flannel, being placed in my bed every night. Again, I was reasonably happy here and stayed until just before the end of the War, when everyone came back to the London School with a Geordie accent.

I remember going to Buckingham Palace with my Aunt and Uncle on VE night in May and was on the beach at Ramsgate (during our annual holiday) when the bonfires were let to celebrate VJ Day in August 1945.

Soon after this I was dispatched back to Kent to live with my Mum's younger sister, who had recently been widowed. Here I started my Secondary education and stayed at the same School for six years, which was the longest I had ever stayed anywhere.

I consider myself very fortunate; I never went without and the experience taught me to make new friends quickly and gave me the ability to get on with people from all walks of life. I am extremely grateful that I was a child during the War; if I had been a Mother, I think I would have suffered far more.

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