大象传媒

Mrs Chaplin is willing to have her story entered on to the People's War website and has agreed to abide by the House Rules.

It was one of those dull dank mornings when the air is quite still, as if waiting. My older sister Rosalind and I left home for the last time. My mother had opened a home made cake shop and cafe, at 74 Muntz Street, Small Heath in the last fourteen months, to be near her sister and mother. We, alas, longed to go back to our house at "Glams", 5 Dene Court Road, Olton Solihull" but that was not to be. We joined the milling throng of anxious mums, dads and children. Some were openly weeping and it was hard to stay stoic when we were going off to an unknown destination.

We boarded the buses as they came along. I shall always remember the last view of my mother's face as we left, and our dear Samoyed dog by her side. The old bus made its slow and painful way out into no mans land, it seemed. Until after what seemed many hours we reached our destination, Bredon nr Tewkesbury. We were checked over and then given a glass of lemonade and a bar of chocolate. We then lined up so that the local farmers could take their pick. The big boys and girls went first, as they could work on the farms or in the house. They gradually left until there was only myself, sister and a little boy. It seemed nobody wanted us, as everyone had gone. After a while the WVS lady put us in a car and went around the village knocking on doors and most said no thanks. At last the little boy left and after one or two more we came to a pretty little thatched cottage. The lady came out and said that while her husband did not like children and would not have them in the house we could go in the stable. The stable was rather dark with one electric light bulb and did not give much light. They put a bed, chair and tiny mat for us and we moved in. It was very creepy and desperately cold as it was winter time. We got terrible chilblains on both hands and feet. After about three months, mother came down to see us and was horrified at our situation. She went to see the powers that be and we went straight off to billet number two. This was a grange with crenellations around the walls and the little son had a red small train that ran around the grounds. We were housed in the servants' quarters where we lived with them only.

The little boy was not encouraged to play with us nor did we see anything of the main house.

The winter of l940 was a very cold one and we had to walk a very long way to school in thick snow. Sometimes we would see the son going past in the chauffeur driven car but never gave us a lift. No wonder we felt like second class citizens and dared not complain about anything.

By September 7th the blitz on London was ferocious. Some 13,000 tons of high explosive and almost one million incendiaries fell on the city killing 13,000 people and injuring 20,000 (World War II) This was only until november 12th 1941.

The relatives of the family we were billeted with needed the accommodation, so off we went to billet number three. We were separated then. My sister went to one place and I went to the engine driver's cottage nearby. It was in a row of four cottages in a little cobbled lane, and a blacksmith's shop at the end. I enjoyed watching the blacksmith and would help with the bellows to stoke up the fire. But my real love was the horses and it has lasted all my life. At seventy three I still ride on a highland pony. I was very unhappy at this stage and became quite ill and could not keep anything down foodwise. After not eating for two weeks I was told if I didn't eat I would be sent to hospital. I remember the first food I ate was a slice of bread and butter cut into 'soldiers'. I gradually recovered but my sister never came to see me from the time we were separated. She too was terribly unhappy.

Next billet, number four, was to a Mrs Day, a middle aged couple who lived in a little cottage near the church.

The husband was head cowman at the farm and I was to spend a lot of time following the plough and riding the shire horses. When haymaking they would bring the team of horses both in tandem, up to the farm and I would ride the spare horse back to the fields. I also used to get the cows in for milking, though one cow used to take exception to this and chase me. It was a bit nerve wracking until she lost interest and would go in.

I ran wild at that time and they had to send for my mother to make sure I went to school. I'm afraid the lady I was billeted with was not a nice person and stole my pocket money that mother sent me. She also took a box of chocolates sent to me and put them away. When I asked if I could have another one there were only about four left. She became cross and said I had had them, which I certainly had not, so she said "the mice must have had them". I remember thinking there was no hole in the box but dare not say so. She once bought me some sweets and because I did something she did not approve of I was told that was the first and last time. She never let me have my money so I could not buy any myself.

After the heavy blitz on the East End of London the evacuees came down and one little girl was billeted with us. Unfortunately she had scabies which I caught. After a while she went home but I was left with this awful complaint until my mother came down and at last took me back home for treatment.

After that, away again to an evacuated London boarding school, but that is another story. I feel a great weight has gone from the recess of my mind but never quite forgotten.

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