大象传媒

'This story was submitted to the People's War site by Rick Allden of the CSV 大象传媒 Coventry and Warwickshire Action Desk on behalf of M. R. Spurgeon and has been added to the site with her permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions'.

During wartime many people cross our paths whom we would not meet in normal circumstances. This was my experience as a young boy during 1940 and 1941 when my younger brother and I were evacuated with my mother, staying in lodgings in Southport and Faringdon.

It was like entering a different world when we went to Southport, staying at a seaside 鈥渂oarding house鈥� which greeted us with the smell of boiled cabbage. The furnishings were drab and had seen better days, when horsehair upholstery was in fashion. For heating there were coal fires in the sitting and dining rooms, and for baths there was a large and ancient gas geyser in the bathroom, which yielded hot water under protest. After several attempts it would ignite with a frightening explosion followed by a series of popping sounds and an extended wheeze and whine. Eventually a trickle of scalding water would emerge accompanied by clouds of steam.

The landlady, Mrs. Bacon, was a muscular Lancashire woman who was loud in every way, running her boarding house with all the charm of the Gestapo. She was assisted by a rather wooden man who, in retrospect, was giving a poor impersonation of Jeeves. Her grand-daughter Violet made frequent appearances. This pasty-faced five-year-old had straight red hair and thin, sharp features with which she created the rudest expressions she could imagine. One of her delights when asked to close the door quietly was to exit slamming it as hard as she could and then poke her head round it with a mischievous grin. She would then make a face, stick out her very long tongue and run off leaving the door open. Violet鈥檚 behaviour made a great impression on my brother and me; it was not how we had been brought up!

When we arrived the other guests were a family comprising Mr. and Mrs. Bennet, his sister, and two daughters. The girls were older than me, about eight or nine, named Eileen and Hilda. Their aunt was stout, short and gruff - a schoolteacher. I believe Mr. Bennet worked for the Council. They were a dull, close-knit family who seemed always to be criticizing. I avoided them as much as possible and was aware that my mother, with her traditional Conservative upbringing, had written them off as 鈥渢ypical civil servants.鈥�

Some weeks later, Mrs. Loocock arrived with her daughter Wendy who was about five years old. Her vivacity and prettiness were not lost on me, even though she was eighteen months younger than I was! Mr. Loocock was with the Army in France and eagerly awaited by his wife. She was overjoyed when he arrived on leave but in tears when she learned that he was to return to another overseas posting. It was the first time I had seen a grown-up cry. She later heard that he was stationed with the Eighth Army in North Africa.

We arrived in Southport just before the bombing of Liverpool began. Although that was more than 20 miles away the planes and nearby ack-ack guns could be heard and the local air raid sirens sounded.

This story was donated to the People鈥檚 War website by M. R. Spurgeon, of the Leam Writers. If you would like to find out more about Leam Writers call 0845 900 5 300.

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