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Ms Duckenfield understands the site rules and regulations and has agreed that this story can be added to the Peoples’ War web site

WWII Evacuation to Stoke-on-Trent
Some time around 1944 my mother, my brother and myself were evacuated from Kew, Surrey to Stoke-on-Trent. We were probably unique in that we took our white cat, Lilly, with us, not in a cat-carrier but just carried in our arms.
We changed trains at Clapham junction which does not seem to have altered at all. At Waterloo we were met by a guide who pointed out her brother's name on the Roll of Honour above the main entrance.
When we arrived at Stoke-on-Trent we were conducted to a building either adjoining or near the station, which also does not appear to have altered much. I believe we slept there. Here Lilly disappeared down a hole in the floor to emerge some time later covered in cobwebs. The next day we went to the cinema and saw, appropriately, 'Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.' The receptionist was highly amused at our taking Lilly in.
We were assigned to Miss Morris, a school teacher. When she found that we shared the same November birth sign she very kindly gave me a little topaz ring.
A favourite activity of myself and my brother was scrambling about the tip where imperfect pieces of pottery, in their biscuit state, were thrown. We kept searching for perfect pieces or matching sets but of course there were none. The designs were all manner of cups, large bowls, jam-pots, dishes, and sauce boats shaped like leaves and flowers. We saw several finished examples in a shop window once, but, as they were for export only to the Australian market these were not for sale. Many years later I came across examples of Carlton Ware, recognised the familiar designs and began collecting it.
Another memory of Stoke is that it was very cold at times with heavy snow at Christmas. We also found that any white washing hung up would be black with soot in a very short_space of time.
The buses which drove between the five pottery towns were memorable for having the seats upstairs placed all to one side. I was terrified of sitting up there as it really felt as though the bus was in danger of tipping over. The bus conductress thought so too. It was part of her duty to call out "Hanley only!" on the one we used to catch regularly.
I no longer have the little topaz ring but still have the little French doll, a'Bebe Merveille', my mother bought me and some Alice and Wonderland cigarette cards bought in packs of four, an expensive and uncertain way to collect a set.
I am not clear how long we stayed but apparently I returned with a strong northern accent.
BRIDGET DUCKENFIELD

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