´óÏó´«Ã½

This story was submitted to the People's War site by the Dunstable At War Team on behalf of the author and has been added to the site with his permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

We lived at 25 Widecombe Way, East Finchley, London, N2. My mother, sister and I were evacuated to many different places and I went to many schools, before arriving in Dunstable. Education was difficult throughout the war and the teachers were older than was ideal

It was probably early in 1942 when I went to Ashton Lodge as a dayboy. This was a small prep school, which probably had students for only 2 years. I was in the Senior School for 2 terms before leaving in April 1944.

The prep school was run by Mr H. The school and all the pupils are deeply indebted to this splendid gentleman and his wife. He not only ran the prep school but was housemaster of Thompson House in the senior school and was responsible for the boarders. He lived in the school with his wife.

Mr H took most of the lessons; he had outstanding all round knowledge. He always helped and motivated the boys. I think he was assisted by Mr S. I do not remember any bullying, neither was there any animosity towards evacuees, although we may have taken a few places from the local boys. We walked 2 miles to school and thought nothing of it.

Our lessons were always well conducted and we were very keen to learn and answer questions. Boys were awarded a red ribbon to wear on the lapel of their blazers for being very bright and a blue one for being good. I achieved both.

One morning in the summer term probably in early May, we had a short lesson on the blackboard teaching us how to swim the breast stroke. We were soon taken to the unheated outdoor pool and told to jump in and swim. This was great fun for some of us but I am not sure all the boys enjoyed the thrill. There was a bamboo pole with a loop attached to assist any boy who wanted help. Most of us soon learned and it was a good way to teach. I still use this stroke regularly.

For a boy full of mischief, I do not remember getting into trouble very often. I think we were punished by being whacked with the slipper. I was in trouble once however, when I accidentally threw a stone at a window and made a small hole. As well as being frightened I would of course, have been punished fairly.

Mr H set up a special book which acknowledged good performances. I managed to get 3 entries in the book, which, I believe was more than any other boy at the time. One was for taking a very good catch at cricket and another for volunteering to help with the washing up.

We were happy boys; my saddest time was missing school because I had chickenpox and spent most of the winter term in Dunstable Isolation Hospital. It was awful being away from friends and missing so much schooling. I would occasionally cry quietly at night because I felt I had let my parents down. The ‘cure’ was to be scrubbed at least twice a day in a very large and very hot bath. One was very sore and one’s skin never healed. It was torture. I do not think this method is used now. My parents collected me on Christmas Eve, which was a very happy day and we had a wonderful Christmas.

I do remember one outstandingly happy event. I caught the coach to St Albans and on arrival, saw my parents. I jumped off the moving vehicle, landed facing the opposite way to the direction of motion of the coach and was nearly run over, but immensely happy at being greeted by my mother. It was a wonderfully day. They were alive!

On several occasions we visited the magnificent Priory Church on Sunday morning. We were smart, proud and well behaved. The school band may have accompanied us.

Initially my mother, sister and I lived in Luton Road, about midway between Half-Way House and the railway bridge. On several occasions I was in trouble when I demolished the sprouts in the vegetable patch, which were in my way whilst practising football. Food was strictly rationed and there were no luxuries but I never remember being hungry. All that could be done was done.

Soon afterwards, we lived for a while just off High Street South near Lovers Lane. I had many friends; one was Jackie who lived nearby. Jackie had several fearsome ferrets, which he would proudly show all visitors, often to their consternation.

Our art master was Mr Z. He was unconventional but the boys ‘enjoyed’ his lessons. He also ran the Glee Club. We performed the Mikado. The rehearsals and show took place in the splendid old Town Hall, which was near the cross opposite the shop with the Penny Farthing bike. It was all great fun.

Our next residence was at 45 Tring Road, Dunstable. We kept chickens and had a vegetable patch stretching up towards the Downs; we would walk over the Downs from the garden. Often there were aeroplanes and gliders practising. We went to the Odeon and to shows in Luton. Several times, I went on my own by bus to Kenilworth Road to watch Luton Town. I was always able to stand near the front.

When my mother and sister returned to London, I was looked after by the T family. They were lovely people and had a son, Keith who was slightly younger than myself. Mr T was a headmaster. They lived at Red Cow Farm in Houghton Regis.

I was in the senior school for the last 2 terms. I was in Thompson House with Mr H. I think there were 3 other houses — Tring, Apthorpe and Brown? I was a boarder, with Mr H looking after the dormitory. I think Matron did a very responsible job. There were about 12 boys in the dormitory. We had bowls and large jugs of water in which to wash and there was no heating. We used to tell stories at night until a master came to read the riot act. All the boys played well together, mainly chasing each other. We had board games, chess, draughts and monopoly. None of us had more than a few pence, so we were not able to buy anything, but this was unimportant. We each had our own single desk in which we kept, unlocked, our few possessions and where we did our homework under supervision.

I used to watch and score for the school’s 1st XI cricket team, who had matches against Luton and Berkhamsted. The senior boys played rugby. The sports field was just west of the cross. I remember the Rugby Fives courts adjacent to the pool, which were used by the senior boys. On one occasion we walked to Sewell Farm to watch a cross-country race. I was very pleased to be tipped to play for the 1st Rugby team eventually.

The Headmaster was Mr E. We were all frightened of him and of his cane. We were not allowed near his house. The PT master was Mr B and in his lessons all the windows were opened regardless of the weather; many boys were unhappy with this but nothing could be done. He used to fancy himself as an expert thrower of chalk at any boy he disliked. However, he was not as good at throwing as he thought he was and usually missed his target. In gym he would produce a dagger and make us hold in our stomachs by pushing it ‘gently’ into our bodies. It worked!

I was sad to leave this lovely school but delighted to see so much more of my parents. The experiences at Dunstable certainly were character building and stood one in good stead for later life. We felt safe and in good hands. We owe a great deal to Mr H our marvellous friend, and to the school. Above all else we believed passionately in our country!

© Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.