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This story has benn submitted to the People's War website personally by Dilys Ashton and added to the site with her permission.

At eleven months of age I left Accrington with my parents, Hilda and Jack Taylor, for a new life in Kent. My Father, having obtained a new position with Short Bros., the Company that made the ‘Flying Machine on Water’.
Life, in Dombay Close was, I understand, pleasant and uneventful with the exception of my almost having an early death with whooping cough. I have little memories, but can vaguely remember my garden swing, chocolate marshmallows, sunshine and laughter. At the age of four my life, my parent’s life, as that of so many, changed forever when war broke out. I was to become an evacuee. My school was designated to become a mortuary and, I guess, Dombay Close being situated in the flight path of the Rochester Airport, with Chatham Docks nearby, would possibly become a target for enemy attack by air.
With my gas box in its little box tied around my neck and label on my coat, I returned to my birth town. Close friends, a childless couple, Annie and Jack Taylor, had readily agreed to look after me. Life changed, from a house with my own room, to a one bedroom bungalow with a camp bed to sleep on. I mention this as everyone living in Queensborough Road heard about the things that I missed most. My new bed that was left behind in Dombay Close, along with my new bedside cabinet with a glass shelf on top. Not I might add, my mother and father, that is a four year old for you!
I was enrolled in the local Church of England School but, when I arrived, the term had commenced and I had to sit with the boys as there was no room for me elsewhere. Being an only child I was not too happy with this arrangement. It had not occurred to my Aunty Annie that she should have taken me for my first day but she sent me along with the young girl who lived across the road. I can remember disliking her from that day forward and being very difficult when she escorted me to and from school. Being independent by nature I soon started to take myself to and from school.
After a faulty start I loved school and made friends quite easily. Life with my new family was lovely. Lots of love and care. Uncle Jack had a large greenhouse with tomatoes growing, rabbits to cuddle and a tortoise in the garden. I used to wonder why the rabbits which I had named disappeared and it was many years later before I realised why we had so many meat pies! My Aunty Annie was a treasure and, for a childless couple, adapted to life with a four year old remarkably well. Especially one who had measles, chicken pox and mumps during the two years I spent with them.
Weekends were spent with my grandparents. My granddad Fred Taylor was my favourite person. He was small and always smiling, we would go walks and pick bluebells in the woods. My grandmother, Amelia Taylor, was my least favourite person, she terrified me. I was known to her as little Jacky as I looked like my father. This was lucky as she hated girls! I remember her immaculate home. Her long drop toilet, carbolic soap, scrubbed doorstep, starched apron and brilliant food which you had to eat up or you could not leave the table. She was devoid of knowing how to love a child and toys were a nuisance as they made the house untidy. Christmas 1941 was a lonely time with my new doll Shirley. Sunday mornings meant porridge at my Aunty Lily’s before going to church with my grownup cousins, which I enjoyed. It must have been hard on my parents losing their small daughter and when I was six they sold up and moved back to Accrington.

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