大象传媒

The urchin at war
The urchin stood on the station platform. Clutching his white canvas bag. It was marked in black, (BCC.)
He was waiting with many others, he鈥檇 become an evacuee
Hung around his neck, by string, swung a cardboard box
It was a gasmask, to be carried at all times, and worn at the sirens blast
He鈥檇 never left home before, nor ever rode a train.
There is no none to see him off, he his on his own again:

Lots of mums with weeping girls and lads. But not so many Dads
They are away being soldiers, dressed in khaki clads

Then everybody on the train! Shut that carriage door!
The green flag up. The whistle blew.
Then off to where no Germans know

The journey was very long, stopping for other children
The train gathered many on its way
The urchin stood by the train window, he鈥檇 never seen the country side
Fields of green, herds of cows, flocks of sheep, and tethered goats
Mighty shire horses pulling the harrows and the ploughs

Farmers cropping in the fields. Cabbages row on row,
Stacking swedes, and parsnips and other things they grew
Passing many fields of peas. And potatoes by the cartload
Apples, pears, and plums; they grew them all on trees
He鈥檇 never seen such sights before. And all this just in a day
With so many things to see, It should be fun as an evacuee

His BCC bag it contained nothing, no snack
Nor any change of Clothes
What he stood, in was his lot, in his bag all he鈥檇 got

No thought had crossed his mind, where he would stay that night, he really didn鈥檛 care
Chepstow was the chosen place. It stands on the river Wye.
It has a mighty grey-stone castle, With dungeons and towers from the old moat, they touch the sky, inside is a dried up well
It鈥檚 built upon a hillock, surrounded by a dell
The entrance lies through port cullis, over a once filled moat
Where now I pick wild flowers and hear grasshoppers and the frogs a croak

Waiting in the village hall, were other evacuees.
Some were in their Sunday best. The urchin in his only best
Pumps, shorts and jumper. The urchins standard dress
He鈥檇 never worn underpants, or socks, and never seen a vest

Every child was stood on view. Slowly one by one, boys and girls were taken.
All except for two. The vicar had to plead for us. 鈥淭hese boys have great need.鈥� I was the last to go.
For what reason I don鈥檛 know. Every week I was passed around, I stayed with most In Chepstow town.

Mrs M. a matronly mum. Took me to her home, hers was a family clan.
I had to do lots of work and became her right hand man
To me she was very kind, the likes of which are hard to find. I sold the daily Echo in the street. The money earned helped my keep.
In a camp across the way, soldiers training, night and day
Many of them I used to meet, jn this camp of marching feet
Get your Echo! I would shout. One hundred Germans shot down, we lost only three.

The war goes, more brave men gone,
The gates would let more soldiers in. Where are we going? Was the question they would cry.
You are going on a boat was the reply. Many times the camp fell silent. The soldiers to the war had gone, For many it is their last Goodbye to old England鈥檚 shore

鈥淧ost this letter for me son, please post it out of camp
Or they will read it and censor some things out.

You know the rules if I got caught, they will put me out of
Bounds.
I鈥檓 really very sorry, You must post you鈥檙e letter on army ground.
Who is able to explain these things. Or how these young men felt, being torn from home and loved ones
For some it was to be many years. They leave as soldier brave
Some return just as man.
Many under crosses lie. These were the lads I looked in the eye. Sold them the Echo and said goodbye
So many men their right to live, snuffed out like a candle

I was an urchin evacuee. I know now I was lucky. Had I been just eighteen. I wouldn鈥檛 have had any choice. A soldier I would have been. Then sent off to the war. To shoot or to be shot at, Now it鈥檚 just a dreadful dream
We only spent half days at school. The Welsh boys and girls were kept apart. Someone said it the rule. So they had early mornings. And us (the roughs) had all afternoon. It seemed they did not like us( I think that they are all Dragons and Leaks anyway.)

When I was with Mrs .M. I worked on a friend鈥檚 farm. Every morn at 0500hr, I set my alarm. I drove the cattle to the shed,
Where they were milked and then fed

The dairy cooled the milk, and then milk bottles they were filled with creamy milk. The crates, were then put on the cart. To be delivered that day.
PS This was also on a Sunday, cows don鈥檛 know what days are, It was a seven-day job.
You see the Sun rise and you see the sun set.
Then often in-between you have to help the vet

I am a town evacuee. Once didn鈥檛 know grass from cabbage.
But I learned to stand behind a plough, my furrow was a little ragged.
But I helped to turn the sod and scatter the seed that fed the nation in its need

I鈥檓 not a country boy .I was born and bred in town. Where they twist the iron, that makes the ploughs, that breaks the ground to grow the food that feeds the mass in town

A working farm needs lots of iron. Spades, shovels rakes and hoes
Gates of Iron, chains and axes, iron pots thrashers, also tractors
Of iron there are lots. The farmer has to shoe his horse. Their shoes are also forged in iron.

I鈥榲e pumped the bellows for the smith, and heard his anvil ring I鈥檝e pumped the church organ and heard the choir sing
I鈥檝e piled the corn, and baled the hay, and drunk the summer cider, (but not with Rosie, especially not with Rosie

To be a country boy in summer-time, to live a country life
Is the best thing that can happen, and will last you all your life

The greens will always haunt you. The early morning calls
The sun- rise and the sunsets. The swallow in its flight.
The nightjar in the meadow, The hoot of owl on moonlit night
Bats, swooping from their crannies; Taking insects in half light

I am only an evacuee I can鈥檛 stay here too long,
They wont let me stay. Only whilst I鈥檓 still young.
I am bound for factory life to twist and turn the iron

I shall look back on the years when I was young and free
I climbed the hill, and gazed o鈥檈r the lea.
That鈥檚 when I was an evacuee.

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