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This story has been submitted to the People's war website by the ´óÏó´«Ã½ Essex Action Desk on behalf of Joyce Gaze and has been added with her permission and she understands the sites terms and conditions.

I was 13 when war broke out and being evacuated was not at the top of my list. Like lots of others, the children in our school were herded together and with our gas masks and small suitcases, off we went to the railway station with no idea where we were going. For me it was from Fulham to Woking. To start with I went along with my two friends (twins) and we were sent to Send just outside Woking.

We arrived at this rather large house which was to be our home for the next 9 months. We discovered the house belonged to an American lady, although we never saw much of her. I do remember she took us to church at Christmas in a taxi no less and we were all given a needlework box for a present. We were placed with the ‘Downstairs’ staff cook/housekeeper, handyman and maid (Nellie).

What a happy time we had, no school for a couple of months, plenty of room to play in — we even had our own cow called ‘Coosie’. Oh yes and a Pekinese Ching-Ching and on top of all that at the back of the house was a flower nursery where we spent a lot of time talking and watching the workmen cut and pack and seeing how they dyed leaves in big coppers — Oh joy! Eventually we started school again and our lessons took place in the open air swimming pool in Woking. That again seemed great fun.

Life was shattered when the cook/housekeeper had to go into hospital and would be out of action for some time, which meant the three of us were to be split up and sent elsewhere — I was sent to a family of 6 in a council house, which seemed quite a come down.

Schooling by now had changed and our school was integrated with ‘Chelsea Central School’ (posh). They had a nice house (Lampeter) at the top of a hill and boy what a grind it was cycling up it. I really didn’t like my new digs or the family and kept on to my mother to let me come home. I was only away just over a year and in those days one could start work at 14 and that was what I wanted to do. I came home (which was now in Battersea) just in time for the bombing and whatever else Mr Hitler chose to throw at us, however I did start work, as a junior in a gown shop.

Joyce Gaze

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