大象传媒

[This story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War site by Margaret Collinge of Leicestershire Library Services on behalf of Mrs S McGill, and has been added to the site with her permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.]

At the age of 5 years in 1939, my world was turned into turmoil when my father was recalled to service in July 1939, upon the brink of the outbreak of World War II. He had previously served in the Royal Navy from a boy age 15 years until discharge to land in 1932. As he was on the reserve list he was recalled immediately to serve on the destroyer The Encounter as an Able Seaman.

Our family unit at that time consisted of my father, mother, my baby sister who was 1 years old, and myself. We were all living in Acton. West London. At that time people were being advised to move out of London to safer areas, due to the threat of bombing within the London area.

My mother鈥檚 sister was at that time living in Eye, Norfolk, staying at a Pub called the Swann Inn. It was agreed that my mother, sister and I should join them, together with my mother鈥檚 other sister and her daughter. This is where my cousins and I first started school and at the age of five I had to walk two miles there and back again escorted by one of our parents. We enjoyed living in the country, it was so different from London. However, my mother was very anxious and stressed, as she did not know where my father was, she had not received any letters from him, as their whereabouts were kept highly secretive.

My mother and her sisters tried to get my Grandmother to move to Norfolk but she would not consider leaving the rest if the family. They were getting extremely worried about my Grandmother in London because the air-raids and the bombing had started, so they all decided to move back to London to be near her.

We returned to Acton in 1940 and at that time London was coming under frequent attack of bombing. We spent most of our days and nights in air-raid shelters or under the stairs in our homes. The skies were lit up by searchlights or by bombs dropping. We were never allowed out of the shelters until the all-clear sounded. One night was particularly bad in the Acton area, the Wardens were ensuring that everyone was making their way to the street air-raid shelters or taking refuge in their Anderson shelter within their own home. The Warden carried my baby sister whilst escorting my mother and I into the shelter. People were trying to get some sleep sitting up-right and were singing to try and block out the noise of the bombing. When the all-clear siren went off, we all emerged from the shelter only to find that our house along with other houses in the road had been flattened by the bombing. People were devastated, looking at what remained of their homes and possessions. Children were crying and A.R.P. Wardens were trying to get some form of organisation as to where people were going to be sheltered.

It was arranged that we should stay with my Grandfather and Grandmother (my father鈥檚 Mum and Dad) in another part of Acton for the short-term whilst my mother could gather together what was left of her possessions. Eventually we were re-housed to a flat in Greenford, Middlesex, near to where one of my mother鈥檚 sisters lived. However, the air-raids continued and we were continually in and out of the school shelters or an Anderson shelter at home. It was then decided that most of the school children should be evacuated with their teachers to safe areas.

Our school was designated to Wales. We all left London by train with our gas-masks over our shoulder, we each had a name tag-tag pinned on our coat, also a little suitcase with our clothes in. Most of the children and their parents were crying as we boarded the train with our teachers. As my cousin and I were at the same school and roughly the age, our parents had asked the teacher if we could possibly be kept together. Eventually we arrived at Gilfach-Gock a little Welsh village, near the Rhondda. When we had all disembarked from the train we were marched in line to the village hall, where Welsh families were waiting to take us evacuees into their home. Because our parents wanted my cousin and I to be kept together we were the last two left in the village hall. A young couple said that they would take us for one night. The next day the Billeting Officer placed us with a family who had a boy and girl of their own. The father was a miner. Most of the men in the village were employed by the Mining Company. Early every morning you would hear them going off to their work in the mines and see them returning at the end of the day in their heavy boots and with very black faces.

It was a totally different world to us evacuees, on the one hand there were all the coal mines around us and on the other hand we had the delights of the mountains and streams. All the evacuees attended the village school and every morning with our free milk we were given a thick slice of bread and a lump of cheese. I think that compared with the local children we all looked slightly under nourished. When we were not at school, most of the evacuees would play in the steams and up the mountain until it was time to go home to our adopted families. My cousin and I shared a bedroom, and I remember for many nights crying myself to sleep because I missed my mother and little sister and I did not know where my father was. At the age of seven I was becoming quite emotionally disturbed with all that had happened in the last couple of years.

It was near to Christmas and my mother and my mother and aunt came down by train to visit us. My cousin and I cried so much whilst they were there that they decided to take us back home for Christmas. When Christmas was over, we should have returned to Wales but my cousin and I were so upset that our mothers decided to keeps us at home with them.

My mother had been continually writing to my father at a P.O. Box Number, keeping him up to date with what was happening at home. Eventually she did receive a few back-dated letters from him. He was somewhere at sea, but she did not know where.

On my return from Wales I was re-instated at the local school. My sister had grown from a baby to a toddler, so we had to try and get to know one another, and I remember there was quite a lot of sibling rivalry for my mother鈥檚 attention. The air-raids were still going on, we were always either scrambling under our desks for cover or spending lengthy periods of the day down the school shelters. We used to take our exercise books down the shelters and spend hours chanting our times tables and then more often than not we were down the shelters at home again during the night.

During 1942 my mother was often unwell and started to look frail. The letters from my father had ceased. There had been heavy losses at sea in the Pacific Ocean and it was reported that The Encounter, the destroyer that my father was on, had been sunk by the Japanese Navy with several other English and American ships. My father was reported missing; at that time we did not know whether he had been taken as a prisoner of war or had drowned at sea.

1943-1944 - Over a period of time my mother鈥檚 health deteriorated, she still
had heard no news about my father. I had to take quite a lot of days off school to help look after my mother and my little sister. I used to do the shopping, taking the family ration books with me to ensure that we got what we were entitled to. My mother kept a few chickens in the back garden, so we nearly always had a fresh egg. It was my job to feed the chickens, boiling up potato peeling and mashing in the chicken meal.

One night my mother was taken very ill and I remember running the length of the road where we lived in my pyjamas to fetch my aunt and uncle. The next day my aunt told me to get ready for school, and they would see to my sister and get the doctor to see my mother. When I returned from school I went straight home to find the door locked. The next door neighbour came out and said that my mother had been taken to hospital and that I was to go to my aunt and uncle's home. My aunt said that my mother had been taken into hospital and that my sister and I were to stay with them until she returned home. My sister and I were not allowed to visit my mother, as they never allowed children under a certain age to visit hospital at that time. She was in hospital approximately one month when she died of T.B. aged 34 years in 1944.

My world had collapsed, my final piece of security had gone. My sister and I were not even allowed to attend our mother鈥檚 funeral. My aunt and uncle had spoken with the Welfare Officer and said that they would be prepared to have my sister and I to live with them until we knew what had happened to my father. As the flat that we had lived in was rented, our home was packed up and the furniture put into storage at my Grandmother鈥檚 home, just in case my father returned. I cried desperately at night for my mother and for my father to return home. The bombing and air-raids were still going on but seemed to becoming less frequent.
1945 鈥� V.E. Day came and later that year V.J. Day. There were street
parties and bonfires everyone was rejoicing, singing and dancing in the street. Servicemen were returning home and celebrating with their families, Eventually that year we had news that my father had been lost at sea in 1942 aged 33 years, when The Encounter had been sunk by Japanese Imperial Navy cruisers.

Later that year a letter from Buckingham Palace was sent addressed to me stating:-

鈥淭he Queen and I offer you our heartfelt sympathy in your great sorrow. We pray that your country鈥檚 gratitude for a life so nobly given in its service may bring your some measure of consolation.鈥�

(signed) George R L

I was then aged 11 and my sister was 7 years of age.

THIS WAS MY WAR.

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