大象传媒

Marjorie Tod from Acrefair remembers evacuees staying at her home.

During the war, bombs were far more likely to fall in denser populated areas. So many city-dwellers, especially children, were evacuated to rural areas. As we lived in Acrefair (Wrexham) families like ours received children evacuated from Liverpool.

I remember waiting with my mother at the Trinity Church Institute 鈥� my mother, happy to respond to the request to help billet the evacuees and myself happy to support my mother. We waited two hours. Finally they arrived 鈥� a class of eight year olds shepherded by their teachers, looking lost and bewildered. They looked like travel-weary sheep not knowing what was coming next. Some carried little cases while others had paper bags. All of them had gas masks draped round their necks, which in the case of the smaller ones dangled round their ankles as they walked.

One little lad named Billy was introduced to my mother, and at once my mother offered him a comforting arm and an encouraging question:
鈥淎re you hungry darling?鈥�
Billy soon settled into the family. He was a handsome little fellow with short dark, curly hair and a cheerful disposition, helped no doubt by the fact that his best friend Albert was billeted next door.

Many months later on a Sunday afternoon, Billy鈥檚 father arrived to take him for a short holiday back to Liverpool. We never saw Billy again. Despite all enquiries we never found out what became of him. That very week was a heavy blitz on Liverpool, so sadly we all had to assume the worst.

My mother was soon approached to receive another child from Liverpool, and it was Donald 鈥� known as Donny 鈥� who came to us. He arrived wearing a navy coat and a beret (rather than the more usual cap) and he looked small even for his five years. He was a bundle of nerves, and on the second night, trembling and clutching my mother round the knees (which was as high as he reached), he pleaded with her to 鈥減lease let me sleep with Madge鈥� (i.e. me!). My mother鈥檚 silent entreating look pleaded with me to let him, so even though I鈥檇 just acquired the joys of a private room to myself I had to forego it for Donny鈥檚 sake.

That night, after the lights were out, a plaintive little voice piped up:
鈥淢补诲驳别?鈥�
鈥淵es Donny?鈥�
鈥淐an we pretend we鈥檙e married?鈥�
鈥淲hy do you want to be married, Donny?鈥�
鈥淲ell鈥� when鈥�.when鈥he Germans and the bombers and the sirens start, me Dad鈥e always puts his arms round me Mammy and me in the bed.鈥�
Poor little mite.

And so life went on. We gave Donny sums and spellings, and played Ludo and Snakes and Ladders, and my father drew pictures for him to colour in. His dad was in the RAF and his mum was a chorus girl, so watching countless rehearsals had given little Donny a flair for the stage and a wide repertoire of music hall routines. After dinner my mother would announce, 鈥淎nd the next item on the programme鈥� Mr Donny!鈥� At this point Donny would appear through the parlour door, swinging a walking stick, giving me a sideways wink and burst into a song and dance routine. His favourite was 鈥渞oll out the barrel, roll out the barrel of fun.鈥�

One night, a bomb landed right next to their house, shaking it from top to bottom, and cracking the windows. Donny and I were knocked down the stairs by the blast. Luckily for him, he landed on top of me, but the shock left him in a total frenzy. My mother had to sing him to sleep with a welsh lullaby and we found them both fast asleep the next morning in the armchair.

After the war, Donny came to us every summer for a week鈥檚 holiday. In time he joined the merchant navy and travelled the world. Wherever he went he鈥檇 send a card to my mother. It would contain no news, just the same few lines every time:
鈥淩oses are red, violets are blue,
Sugar is sweet and so are you.鈥�

Years later, he turned up on my doorstep. 鈥淗ello Madge 鈥� remember me?鈥� Still cheerful, still bouncy, still the same old Donny. We had a hug, just like when we were 鈥榤arried鈥�.

Time went on, and again out of the blue he turned up on my doorstep. He鈥檇 been running a food place 鈥� 鈥淒onny鈥檚 Steak Bar鈥� 鈥� in downtown New York. He turned up in a pink Cadillac with a nice lady friend with him. My mother had just died and I could tell from his subdued manner that her death had clearly shaken him. And no wonder really. After all, it was my mother above all who had given him warmth and security when he was a frightened little five-year-old in those dark troubled days many years before.

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