大象传媒

We travelled on the bus for a while from Southport and wound up in a large Church Hall. I remember we waited there for what seemed like ages. With both men and women wandering in and looking about, before deciding which children they wanted billeted with them.
One lady took a shine to my brother Jack and myself. It was possibly due to the fact that we both had heads of fair and very curly hair (you should see us now). She was politely told that we were not available, as we were part of another family and therefore would be kept together. I remember there were quite a few tears as little boys and girls were put into the care of strangers. The few families, us amongst them, were dealt with last. My Mum, brothers and me ended up seated in a big black car. It was the first ever car ride of our lives. Our journey ended in a little cul-de-sac called Broome Road, in Birkdale, which was actually just on the outskirts of Southport. The houses all seemed very small. We wound up at number 34 which was occupied by an elderly couple called Mr and Mrs Marshall.
Mrs Marshall seemed a very nice kind lady, but Mr Marshall, who sported a big moustache, seemed very grumpy. This was our new home. We didn鈥檛 know, at the time, how long it would be for. We then met our first snag. The Billeting Officer, who had delivered us to this home, had another look at the available accommodation and said that my Mother and four children could sleep there. I had to stay with a different family on the other side of the street. They were called the Lloyd鈥檚. Mother was a bit concerned at first, but was assured I could be with her all-day and only had to sleep with the Lloyd鈥檚. We overcame these problems and settled in after a fashion. Mother had to keep us as quiet as possible, so as not to disturb our new landlords. The next day, the bigger ones of us ventured outside and began to explore the new surroundings. War was declared on Sunday 3rd September 1939 at 11a.m. Meanwhile, dad who has stayed at Granny鈥檚 house came up to Birkdale, in the afternoon, to see us. He told us that he had signed on as an Able Seaman. He stayed with us until the following day.
At teatime, he asked me to accompany him to the local chip shop, as he was treating us to a fish and chip dinner. While waiting our turn to be served he bought me a bottle of Vimto. He told me that as he was going away to sea and as I was the eldest boy he wanted me to be the man of the house, until he returned. In normal times Dad would have been skint on a Monday afternoon, but sailors who signed on for a trip on a merchant vessel usually got an advance on their pay. This was to enable them to purchase any items of seagoing kit they may need on board ship. The advance was usually in the form of a Docket to be used in a Seaman鈥檚 Outfitter鈥檚, of which there were many in Liverpool, at that time. The sailor would obtain the items required and receive the balance of the Docket in cash. Hence Dad having funds on a Monday. After tea Dad said his goodbyes to us all. He would hug and kiss us all and there were also some tears. Dad, however, soon left. That was the last we saw of him for many months.
After a week or so in Birkdale, the Education Authority found us a place in a school, which was just around the corner from Broome Road. It seems strange now to relate this, but I can鈥檛 remember the name of that school. Thinking about it I am not sure that I ever knew its name. We did not stay there very long. The other pupils all thought we talked funny because of our scouse accent whereas we thought they were the ones who talked funny.
Mother used to meet us at the school gates every lunchtime, as she did not want to monopolise Mrs Marshall鈥檚 kitchen. We would cross the road from the school to a little baker鈥檚 shop where the speciality was hot meat pies. The added attraction was if you bought three or more pies and brought your own jug it would be filled with delicious hot gravy free of charge. Then we went off around the corner to 34 Broome Road to dine. How long we might have lived on pies and gravy I do not know, but after a few weeks living in Birkdale, we moved to Southport proper.
Next to the house we were staying there was a wide entry. We wandered down this entry, one day. At the end we found ourselves in a big field which was covered with little gardens. We found out, eventually, that these were called Allotments. A different person took care of their part of the allotment. We made a friend on the Allotment. His name was Charlie Stewart. He was a very jolly man. Who asked us where we were from, our names and how old we all were. He informed us that he was fifty years of age. Charlie was the name his friends called him and he wanted us to do the same. We liked Charlie very much, but possibly we liked the few pigs he kept, even more. We were fascinated by them and would spend hours watching them. They did not seem to do very much and spent most of their time snuffling about in the mud. The pigs would also eat and they smelt a bit strong, but we loved them.
I remember one day we had a lady visitor. It appears she was some distant relative of my Dad's. Mother told us later that they came from the posh part of Bootle and it appears she came to have a nose around. We were told to take the little boy she had with her to see Charlie's pigs. We were to make sure the boy didn't get his clothes dirty. We decided almost instantly that we did not like this lad. It was maybe because he talked a bit posh or possibly we were a bit jealous of him having a pocketful of Dinky Toys and he told us that he had lots more in the house. We had none. Soon we were all leaning over the little wall surrounding the pigsty.After some minutes had passed. my brother Jack told the boy that the pigs had loads of Dinky Toys in their shed and if he threw them one of his, the pigs would throw him two toys back! Jack told him that we had done this many times and that it always worked. After a brief hesitation the boy threw in a toy. One of the pigs promptly ate it!After a wait of several minutes, the boy asked about when he would get the two toys. Jack said that maybe the pigs wanted him to throw them another and then we would see what happens. The boy threw in another one that unfortunately sank in the pig swill. A third toy followed the other two. By this time the poor boy realised that he had been conned and ran off howling to tell his mother.
We were immediately called in and severely told off.Not only had we cost the boy three of his prized toys, but the front of his best jacket was covered in moss and slime from the pigsty wall.After, the visitors had depated I had the feeling that Mother was more amused than angry at what we had done to the poor lad. These were some of my memories of my evacuation experience which was a new world despite being so near Liverpool.
'This story was submitted to the People's War site by Radio Merseyside's People's War team on behalf of the author, George Flannery,and has been added to the site with his permission.The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.'

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