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E.H. Badrick
It was the 14th October 1939; I was just 6 years old and sitting in a tin bath in front of the kitchen range in my Aunt Pheobes house in Freshfield Road, Brighton.
I had been evacuated from my home in Brixton to Staines in Middlesex when I was 5 years old with the rest of my school friends when war was declared. With another boy about my age I was lodged with a couple who were not exactly friendly. I was not happy so my father collected me and took me to my aunt and uncles house in Brighton where my mother and sister had moved to escape the blitz.
So, why was I in a bath of hot water in their kitchen? My Uncle Tom had taken me for a walk around Queen’s Park just around the corner from their house. The park had a large boating lake and somehow I managed to fall in. Being mid October the water was cold and as I was a delicate child my uncle rushed me home to dry me out to avoid complications to my health. I was just about to get dried when my aunt’s daughter came into the kitchen looking very upset. ‘I have just been listening to the news and it was announced that the Royal Oak has been sunk at Scarpa Flow. Isn’t that the ship your brother is on?’ she asked my mother.
My mother asked if there was any news of casualties or survivors but no details were given. I was taken out of the bath, dried and dressed. After tea I went to bed thinking about my Uncle Bert.
Some days later my mother was informed that her brother was one of the survivors and that he was well. I also recovered from my soaking.
By now my father was in the army and after another effort to evacuate us to Wokingham, all of the family this time, my mother decided to join a friend who had moved to a small village in Devon. I spent the next 5 years cocooned from the war living in idyllic (for a child) existence in the heart of the Devon countryside.

We never returned to Brixton, both the house we lived in and my Grandparents house having been destroyed in the blitz with the rest of the street.

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