大象传媒

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At the time of Munich, I was attending Hitherfield Road Infant School, Streatham. We were expecting to go camping: we had to take a blanket to school with our name on it, and we were going to sleep under the trees at Leatherhead. But then Mr Chamberlain came home with the news, and the trip was cancelled. That was much more important to us-we were so disappointed!

My parents took me and my sister Phyllis up to my grandparents in Norfolk. I remember everyone sitting in the big kitchen at Cromer, listening to the news on the wireless, Sunday 3rd September 1939. They looked very serious when they heard Mr Chamberlain making the announcement that his visit to Munich had been vain, and that we are now at war with Germany. My mother took us upstairs and told us that we had to be very good little girls.

We came back to London early in 1940 because we thought the war would soon be over, but in May 1940 my sister and I were evacuated to Dartmouth where we stayed until 1942. I was nine years old and Phyllis was seven. My second sister, Sylvia, was just a toddler and too young to go. We were put on the train at Streatham Hill with labels round our necks, a gas mask, a little brown case with our clothes in it and a picnic box. We thought it was a great adventure! One mother grabbed her child back because she could not bear to be parted.
We set off on the long journey to nowhere. We did not know where we were going. Once we had to get off train and stood on platform for a long time to catch another train to Kingswear.

I remember all the children getting on the ferry across to Dartmouth. All the town was waiting on the quay for the children to arrive. The first question they asked us was鈥� Where have you come from? Let鈥檚 look at your label. 鈥� Our Mother had told us 鈥漌hatever happens, you two little girls must not be parted. You must look after each other鈥�. We were almost the last two to be picked out by a lady in a brown pork pie hat and a clipboard. But we were separated and my sister was taken away shouting, 鈥淢ummy said we must stay together, Mummy said...!鈥�

I was taken to 10 Foss Street, Dartmouth, Dunnings Bakery. Here I met Bill Brooks, a baker, who was to be my foster Uncle. Bill had been a widower with a daughter Flo who was 15, He had married Emily, who had also been widowed, and had one son, Geoffery. We climbed up 2 or 3 flights of stairs to the living quarters above the bakery. I opened a door and saw a figure in front of me tying up his boots. He said 鈥淐ome in me Booty, don鈥檛 be shy鈥�. This was my introduction to Uncle Bill. He was in the Civil Defence and going off to fire practice.

The next day my sister was also brought to Uncle Bill鈥檚. She had been crying so much because we had been separated that they thought we would be better together. Uncle Bill sent my parents a postcard to say 鈥淭wo little girls have arrived safely, and seem very happy, Mary will be writing to you on Monday and Mrs Brooks and myself will do our best for them. We have a daughter and a son. 鈥�
We also sent the official card that had to be filled in. (Examples brought in)

Our foster parents were strict but loving and we were very happy. Some children went home to London because they were unhappy. Foster parents got an allowance for keeping the children. Parents got a special pass to come and visit their children, but they were only allowed two in the course of two years.

We were not allowed to wear short white socks until after Whit Sunday. We learnt to be clean because we could not keep having clean clothes. We had to wear hats and gloves in church. We went to St Saviours of Dartmouth three times on a Sunday although one of the services was a Sunday school.

We would write airmail letters to our Uncles in the forces abroad, to give them news from home. We would sit close to wireless to hear the overseas news of the war.

We were sitting by fire one winter evening watching Flo doing some knitting for her School Certificate in pretty coloured wool. She told us it was for refugees but she was really making two lovely pixie hoods for us.

We went to school in Dartmouth. My first impression of school was hearing the children sing 鈥� Oh for the Wings of the Dove鈥�. I thought it was angels singing! There was not room in the school for all the extra children, so half the school went on nature walks on the Ridges outside Dartmouth. There were Primroses and Foxgloves along the streams and banks; we had to pick the foxgloves because it could be used to help injured soldiers. I remember the skylarks singing above and the beautiful green hills all around. We used to draw posters to help the war effort. We seemed to mix in well with the local people and took part in the Christmas show in town hall in Dartmouth.

But sometimes we were naughty. On the way home from school one day a little girl called Kathleen dared me to knock on the door of a cottage and carry on walking. Then she told the teacher what I had done. The school made me go back to cottage and apologise. The owner of the cottage said, 鈥淥h, you鈥檙e one of them Lonnon evacuees鈥�. Then she gave me a bag of sweets! We did not have many sweets but sometimes we were given a carrot, which we could scrape and dip in lemonade powder that was nearly as good.

We had piano lessons with two old spinster ladies in a place like the Olde Curiosity Shoppe, with cobwebs in the windows and very low ceilings. There were musical instruments hanging on the walls, and an old harmonium. We were allowed to play a duet and we were given a penny. Then we would go home to lunch and have a Devon pasty, which cost 2d.
I took my 11+ exam in Dartmouth but I did not pass then. I had extra maths lessons and then passed it in Streatham when I was 12.
I took part in a mock gas attack. I had to be a casualty with a pelvic injury. I did not know what pelvis was, but I enjoyed being transported to Dartmouth Castle on a stretcher. It was a bit too realistic though when I was given hot boiled water that made me feel ill.
I used to go winkling on rocks, and once I got caught when the tide came in. I used to sit on the edge of the Inner harbour trying to catch fish. Once I caught the fishing hook in my finger and got sent up to hospital. We also tried to swim to the next jetty. This was very dangerous but all the children did it. The harbour could be a dangerous place too. Sometimes sailors drank too much and fell in and one of them drowned.

I made friends with June Grimmet who was the Police sergeant鈥檚 daughter.
Sometimes we would help put jam and cream in buns at Dawes bakery. On Saturdays we might go to the Cinema in square for two pence. There were huge barrage balloons over the square, and the Home Guard trained there.

Despite the rationing we always had something to eat on the table. We had Hogs Pudding on Fried Bread every morning for breakfast. Every Sunday Auntie made a sponge and filled it with apricot jam. I used to fetch a jug of cream from the Butter Walk to serve with the sponge.
We saved a shilling a week or when you could as part of the National Savings campaign.

American troops were being trained at Blackpool. One day a German plane flew over Dartmouth and although some merchant vessels had guns they did not fire at it, and it flew out to sea.

When the Blitz got very bad, Mother was allowed to come down to Dartmouth with my sister Sylvia age 3. She came on train through Plymouth which had been bombed to the ground. My parents had never seen anything like it, even though my father worked in the City of London and one night during the Blitz when incendiary bombs were falling he had walked home and said 鈥淎ll of London is in flames鈥�.

When came back to Streatham in 1942 the Doodlebugs started. Nobody knew what they were. We heard the roar of an engine, and then it cut out. That was how you knew it was doodlebug. Streatham was part of 鈥淒oodlebug Alley鈥�. Spitfires used to try to tip the doodlebug off course with fin of their wings.

We lived near to a public shelter. The siren went and my mother said she couldn鈥檛 come down to the shelter because the baby was sick. The Warden said 鈥淵ou better come, there鈥檚 a 1000 lb unexploded bomb out at the back.鈥� We learnt to play monopoly in the shelter and it was a quite a new game at that time. We also used to collect shrapnel and forces badges, and played on the bombsites.

On VET Day our father took us up to London on the tram. Nearly got run over in the excitement.

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