大象传媒

THIS IS THE SECOND PART OF HILARY MC CLEAN'S MEMORIES OF BEING EVACUATED TO CASTLEROCK FROM DERRY DURING THE WAR YEARS.
I remember one exciting day when two American soldiers came and taught us to sing the American National Anthem. 鈥淥h can you see..鈥滻 still remember every word of it. The armed services were stationed all around us: Americans, R.A.F., W.R.A.F., and British soldiers. They slept in local halls, big houses, Nissan huts and even in a large castle nearby. We were used seeing them on route marches and in large convoys of lorries, which were full of young service men. These passed us daily on our way to school. We used to wave to the young men hanging out of the back of the lorries, perhaps on their way for embarkation to the front line, perhaps never to return.

The 鈥淵anks鈥� had arrived in our countryside and they were a real wonder to us all. They were always chewing. They marched along the road in their smart uniforms with a cheery lilt to their step. The drill sergeant commanding, not with 鈥渓eft, right鈥� but 鈥渉ip, one, two, three, four, hip!鈥� We used to copy them and put on false American accents when we spoke. We thought they were all film stars from Hollywood! The 鈥淵anks鈥� brought us a barrel of very sticky sweets to school. This was a great treat as sweets were rationed. The sweet barrel was placed at the door and when we were going home Mr. Samson instructed us to take four sweets each, and four only, as we passed under his eagle eye.

Mr. Samson delighted in mental arithmetic, so first thing every morning we had a session of it. He took each of the three grades in turn. If we knew the answer we stood up. The sums got harder and harder as he moved from the ten-year-olds to the eleven and twelve-year-olds, but the younger ones were allowed to answer if they knew the answer. On a couple of occasions I managed the right answer to the 11 and 12 years鈥� questions, much to the delight of Doreen who was not answering. Mr. Samson would say 鈥淟ook now, Doreen, your cousin can answer better than you and you are older. Waken up there!鈥� All Doreen could say under her breath. 鈥淪he鈥檚 not my cousin!鈥�

I suffered after school for my bright answers. Next week we were to begin cookery classes using a huge black range. I was very excited at the prospect.

Cookery classes were held in the Big Room where there was a large black range, which gobbled up coal, by the bucketful. We learnt simple cookery such as soda bread, Irish stew and how to boil potatoes and vegetables. I remember Miss Green showing us how to make starch from raw potatoes! We had a few laundry lessons as well. One day we had to wash our petticoats. I remember stamping my lovely clean Celanese petticoat in the mud because we were told to bring a soiled one! We loved our cookery and laundry classes as the boys were not allowed in. It was peaceful without them. The boys learnt gardening. I would have loved dearly to garden as well. We had always lived in the city and never had a garden. I compensated by helping Alice in the garden in our new home in the country.

We made our little make-believe houses in the back garden. We played there for hours after school, among the clucking hens. We had lots of lino on our floors and furniture made from tea chests and tin boxes. We had our dressers with all their coloured bits of broken delph. We baked mud pies in shoe polish tins, decorated them with daisy heads. 鈥淪oup鈥� was made out of sourleeks and grasses. We invited each other to 鈥渢ea鈥� and our imaginations filled in the rest. We were never short of company. Three of us, Doreen, my little sister and myself, then Doreen鈥檚 three nieces from next door made six: sometimes two other children from down the lane joined us.

There was an orchard across the lane, which belonged to Mr. and Mrs. C., and it also camouflaged the dry water closet! To this 鈥渟ecret place鈥� we went when nature called. There was a scrubbed spotless white wooden seat and a neat pad of squares of newspaper on a string hanging from a nail. There was a comforting bolt on the door, which gave one a great feeling of privacy. I often went there just to daydream and be alone and to read the bits of newspapers!

When the apples were ripe, no, even before they were ripe, we ate them, usually ending up with stomach ache. Gooseberries and blackcurrants were plentiful 鈥� if you managed to avoid the stinging nettles which grew waist high in the old orchard. I learnt to look for 鈥渄ockins鈥�, which always grew beside the nettles, to rub on the stings. We chanted 鈥淒ockin in, nettle out鈥� until the pain of the nettle sting had gone. I remember one day flying off the tree swing into a bed of nettles! My poor bare arms and legs were badly stung. All the sympathy I got when I ran crying into the house was 鈥淲ell, you won鈥檛 suffer rheumatism in your old age鈥�. (Stinging nettles and bee stings were thought to prevent rheumatism.)

Saturdays were very exciting when Mr. and Mrs. C. conveyed us to the nearest town to the 鈥淧ictures鈥�. We queued up with our bag of rationed sweets that Mr. C. had kindly bought for us. Excitedly we thought of the great treat in store 鈥� usually a Disney cartoon, then Pathe News, followed by an episode of an exciting serial and finally the 鈥渂ig鈥� picture. We drove home, content, full of chat about the film stars and the film we鈥檇 seen.

Sunday had a strict routine to it. It really began on Saturday evening. We polished our shoes, left out clean 鈥淪unday clothes鈥� and had our bath. Bright and early on Sunday we started with a huge cooked breakfast (once per week only) of bacon, egg, fried soda bread, a gorgeous fried pancake (which to this day I love!) and maybe 鈥渇adge鈥� (potato cake). After this we put on our Sunday best and started off to the Sunday School about one mile away After an hour of bible reading and hymn repetition we crossed over the road from the hall to the Church. The Church was newish then and we used to try out different pews (when our adults were absent). We sat in the gallery, both sides, we tried the back of it, then down to ground level, sides and middle, but the great treat was on Children鈥檚 Day we got to sit in the choir seats and sang our special hymns. We had new dresses for this special day with straw bonnets to match. I remember Doreen singing 鈥淛esus, friend of little children鈥� in her sweet voice. I felt envious, as my voice was not for solos!

We sang our hearts out at church and I learnt so many hymns and psalms in those days. I still remember all the words. After church we went back to our wartime 鈥渉ome鈥� and there was Mum and Dad who had come down to visit us. We all had dinner in the dining room around a large square table, nicely set with white tablecloth and flowers. (It was Sunday). The food on Sundays was very good and we enjoyed it all the more because there was our very own Mum and Dad sitting opposite to us, on their weekly Sunday visit.

In the afternoon the adults went for a drive and we children (now in the charge of Eva the strict 18 year old) were sent once again to afternoon Sunday School at 3.30 p.m. back at the house for tea, then off once again to the Mission Hall! Here we sang jolly choruses and had more fun. Our parents left around 11 o鈥檆lock on Monday and they always called at the school gate to say goodbye.

There was a village water pump outside our school with a high hedge growing on all three sides. It was here, in this 鈥減rivate鈥� place we said goodbye for the week to our parents. Sometimes we were a little sad. Mary, my sister, would cry and want to go with my mother. I, being older, had to 鈥渒eep up鈥� and so I said everything was fine. When asked by my mother, 鈥淎re you sure darling you are happy enough staying in the country?鈥� I would nod, not trusting my voice. Many times I longed to blurt out. 鈥淭ake me home Mum. I miss you and Dad鈥�, when I saw their little old maroon Singer 9 car disappear over the hill. We ran back to class after the break as children do, immersed ourselves in whatever was happening in the schoolroom.

In 1942 there were some very poor and under-nourished families. Miss Green, our teacher, used to line up the poor, sickly children and ladle tablespoonfuls of a white tonic (Angiers鈥� Emulsion) down their unwilling throats. They had to bring their own spoons so, one day, I lined up (having brought a large spoon). I thought I was missing this 鈥渢reat鈥� but was promptly told 鈥済o and sit down. You don鈥檛 need this. This is only for the sick children.鈥�

There was no such thing as school meals or milk in those days. TB was rife, also diphtheria. The nurse came at intervals and inspected our hair. Head lice were common and there were 鈥渃ertain鈥� children you did not sit next to in class. Mary, my little sister, and I who had very long plaits of hair when we arrive were 鈥渄ocked鈥� one Saturday morning by Alice. I suppose the chore of brushing; plaiting and keeping clean of long hair was something that no one wanted to take on. The tears weren鈥檛 far away as our long plaits were cut off and lay forlornly on the lino. We now had bobbed hair 鈥� level with our ears; a large bow tied on top held it neat and tidy. My neck felt the draught for ages afterwards. There was one consolation 鈥� the boys couldn鈥檛 pull your plaits or dip the ends into their open inkwells on the desk behind you.

Impetigo was also rife, and I remember Mary contracting a severe bout of it. She had to have her feet and hands bandaged with a yellow sulphurous ointment. The spots itched like mad. Little blisters came up and burst when scratched and formed a hard crust. If this was accidentally knocked off they bled. After many weeks it was eventually cured and she at last got relief.

We always seemed to have runny noses and hankies were a must. Oh! that disposable paper hankies had been invented in those days. What a blessing it would have been for it was my job to wash all our cloth hankies. I had first to steep them in salted water, then I stood in the 鈥渓ean to鈥� shed in the cold yard and rubbed and scrubbed them with hard yellow soap. Mrs. C. then put them on to boil on a Primus stove. After rinsing I hung them out to dry.

Mrs. C and Eva had a huge wash day on a Monday. The water was carried from the rain barrel, boiled, then used to wash the previously steeped clothes. They were then rinses, mangled, blued, starched and pegged out to dry. Wash boards were used for the heavily soiled items (no automatic washing machine in sight!). Drinking water had to be carried from a well about a quarter of a mile away. There were two pure white enamel buckets kept for this purpose. The full buckets were positioned in the cool pantry at the back of the house with clean fine muslin over the top to keep the many flies out.

Fresh milk was collected daily from a neighbouring farm in a large enamel can, also butter when they churned. Buttermilk was needed for the soda bread, baked almost daily too. I remember one day I was sent for the buttermilk and told to hurry as baking was in progress. I had on my new navy gabardine coat as it was raining hard. I ran with the large full can and tripped right into the muddy pools in the lane. I was severely scolded and sent right back again to the farm to fetch more buttermilk.

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