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World war Two Memories
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I was 11 years old at the outbreak of War and I and my parents and elder sister were sitting quietly in church when, to our unsuspecting ears, there came the insistent wailing of ‘The Siren’. Some folk fidgeted, others quietly left — including my sister and I. My father, the Pastor, bravely struggled on as long as he could.

Being only 11, I was not aware of the European situation and, if I thought anything at all it must have been that the world was about to end.

Our town, Ramsgate, was — as far as I know — the only town in the whole of the UK which had deep underground shelters dug as a net- work up to 60 feet down — eventually extended to shelter the whole of our 35, 000 population. The Duke of Kent had officially opened the first entrance a few months previously. Eventually there were over 20 entries all connected so that one could walk from one end of the town to the other. Underground sign posts pointed the way to the nearest named entrance. As the war heightened in intensity more and more people slept below and, until the local medical officer of health banned it, some folk stayed below all day without seeing daylight for months. Some residents had permanent chest infections.

After the immediate anxiety and panic of September 3rd 1939 had subsided, life settled down to some form of normality. Gas masks were issued on day 1 and identity cards and ration books soon after. We resumed our normal activities but my transfer to secondary school was delayed until local air-raid shelters had been constructed.

In may 1940, as the evacuation from Dunkirk beaches became imminent, rumours spread around the town that all children between 5 and 14 years were to be evacuated — destinations unknown! Panic strikes again! About 10 days before our departure we were informed as to what towns we would be sent to. Our section (Juniors) of the school were to be taken to Uttoxeter, Staffs. We had never heard of the town before! So it was, that on the first Sunday in June 1940 (to the best of my memory) we were all assembled in the playing fields of Chatham house school and eventually marched to our local railway station, accompanied by members of our families. After hasty ‘goodbyes’ we were lead to the appropriate carriages of our chartered train which was to take us to the midlands (see appendix written a few days later for details of journey)

Before our own evacuation we had witnessed the arrival of thousands of servicemen from the Dunkirk beaches. The walking wounded was taken to the railway station by bus for onward transmission by chartered trains. The rail authorities managed this complicated movement with great efficiency. The sounded were brought by ambulance to the local hospital, in our road, some with nothing on except a towel round their middle and covered in oil. We and our neighbours were asked to supply the hospital with sheets to be cut into bandages. Everyone tried to help. Off the coast, 100,s of little boats mostly skippered by their owners, waited on a miraculously calm sea awaiting their next assignment to cross the 25 mile wide channel to rescue further servicemen from Dunkirk. Many of these men we met on our journey to Uttoxeter.

In the ‘sorting out’ school I was chosen by a W.V.s (later W.R.V.s) worker and taken to her home which she shared with her husband and elderly parents. The older of the two ladies, in her early 70’s, Mrs Brown, welcomed me and ensured that I had a bath that night. She had no idea from what background I had come! I had just gone to bed when two visitors called to see me. What a surprise both for me and Mrs Brown. Apparently the local pastor of the Assemblies of God Church had been told of my coming by my father — and he had brought with him an old-time friend of my father who happened to be visiting that weekend — a Mr Donald Gee. Obviously my foster mother wondered about the wisdom of letting two ‘strange’ men into my bedroom at 9.00pm. I suspect she waited quietly outside the door to ensure nothing untoward occurred! After a chat and a prayer with me they left me to sleep after a very tiring day. Later, during my year of so’s stay in the town I was to get to know Pastor and Mrs Webster and their flock very well. God certainly cared form me during those days of separation from my home town and family.

I must admit that, in spite of peoples love and care, I was terribly homesick and I must have been a real pain to my foster-parents. There were good times as well as bad and I made friends with other evacuees and enjoyed cycle rides with my Form Master, Mr Price, and class mates on Saturday afternoons. As we had no ‘wireless’ in my own home, it was interesting to hear the news read by such people as Alvar Liddel and Bruce Belfridge.

My most frightening night was when we all huddled at the top of the cellar stairs with dressing-gowns on and listening to wave after wave of enemy planes rolling over us to an unknown destination to release their bombs. Next morning we were to learn that Coventry was their destination and the whole city plus their beloved Cathedral had been shattered, with many lives lost.

I managed to get home for Christmas 1940 and Easter 1941, but when the summer came I persuaded my parents to get me transferred to High Wycombe where my half-sister lived. So another change of home and schooling was made. I was much happier here but when Easter 1942 arrived I could cope with evacuation no more and asked my father to get me transferred to a secondary school in Ramsgate. This was the first Secondary school to be opened in Thanet for over two years.

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Appendix
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Transcribed from an essay written by me on 5th June, 1940 (aged just 12 years)

The Evacuation of the South East Coast
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On Sunday morning all the children of Ramsgate were very exited(sic). The seniors of Chatham House (school) went earlier than the Juniors and they went to Stafford.
We were being evacuated because Ramsgate and other South East Coastal towns were dangerous and still are. We were facing the coast of France, and the Nazis were bombing Boulogne and Calais. It was not unusual thing for us to be woken by guns in the night, so the government (sic) thought best for us to go.

At 10.45 a.m. all the Juniors lined up at Chatham House and after some orders we marched to the station with haversacks and cases and our gas masks.

The train which was already in the station was very long. For other schools beside us had to travel in it. There were eight masters and one lady helper with us. Were (sic) all in groups so it was not hard for us to get in.

On the way people waved to us and cheered, there were flags out as well to welcome the soldiers coming home from France, for we took the same route.

We saw a lot of barrage balloons round London and we saw one going up.

At one station the soldiers filled our bottles up with water from tin cans, it did not taste nice though. We had four pies given to us as well.

At 1pm we had dinner on a table that was given to us.

It took us two hours to get round London. We had a churn of water given to us at one station.
At Derby we saw more barrage balloons.

We arrived at Uttoxeter at 7pm after a very long journey. We were taken to St. Josephs School by buses where we had a bottle of mild each and some biscuits. From there we were taken by car to our billets. I was very tired so I had a bath and then wrote my card, (obligatory to announce to my parents of my safe arrival) afterwards I went to bed.

In the morning I went to Dove Bridge and saw the river.

On the journey to Uttoxeter we passed through many tunnels, once we went under the Crystal Palace. We saw the two towers of the Crystal Palace left from the fire (of 1937).

On Monday afternoon we assembled at the school (Alleynes Grammar School) for a short time. My billet is opposite the Girls’ High School.

We come to school in the morning and afternoon. In the morning one half play games and the other half work. I don’t know whether it will always be like that or not.

The house that I live in (2 Dove Bank) is very nice, and I think I will enjoy myself very much. (Wishful thinking!)

The end.

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