大象传媒

We lived in Barnet, Hertfordshire, and went to school there. My mother, two sisters and I lived with my grandparents,and from time to time other members of the family seemed to be around. We frequently had to spend nights in the air raid shelter because of bombing raids and after one particular air raid, it was obviously decided it would be better for us to be evacuated. On this occasion my mother was working in London for the Red Cross, together with her sister, they arrived at the underground station to find that a bomb had dropped very near to where we were living. They could not run fast enough home to see if we were all alright. Fortunately we were because my grandmother had taken us across the road to a neighbour's house and when the siren went, she put us under their dining room table. Our house, however, sustained a lot of damage to the roof and I think it was then that it was decided it was not safe for us to stay in Barnet. I can still remember the nights in the air raid shelters singing 'Ten Green Bottles' and other songs. I think we thought it an adventure to go into the air raid shelters with everyone else although we also had a shelter in the garden which we used on rare occasions. My elder sister, Ann, had a dog called Hank. Hank was an enormous dog a cross between a dachund and a great dane!! We were told that we had to take it to be put down as we were going away. Ann and I were on our way to the vets, crying as we went, to have the dog put down, a lady, who told us she was a nurse, asked us why we were crying and when we told her we were taking Hank to be put down she said "don't worry I'll buy him from you" and gave us a shilling. We were thrilled - she may well have taken him to the vets herself we will never know, but we thought he was going to a good home and she was a very kind lady. The day arrived when my sister, Ann and I were told that we were to be evacuated through the Red Cross to a family we didn't know or even where we were going to live. We arrived at Kings Cross station with my mother, a Red Cross nurse and two other children with red hair and red spotted dresses, from Belgium. We were all going to travel by train to Doncaster and would be met there by two families. With our labels on our lapels and a small suitcase each we arrived at Doncaster - a horribly dark miserable station - we were handed over to the person were were to know as Auntie Farr - my mother said goodbye - we didn't even turn round to wave which broke her heart, but I don't honestly think we knew how long we were going to be away and all the implications thereof. The two Belgian children were to live in the same street as us so we saw them from time to time. My mother was heartbroken to see us go and cried all the way back to Kings Cross. I was barely five and my sister seven. My younger sister of only two years old stayed with my mother, grandmother and the rest of the family. My parents had separated so there was no father in the equation. My mother worked for the Red Cross and she felt it better that we were going to a home where she knew something of the people. Scunthorpe had a massive steel works at that time and practically everyone worked there including the husband of Auntie Farr -we called him Uncle Farr. He worked very hard at the steel works doing shift work but was always very amusing to us and had a great sense of humour. The house was clean and neat, had an outside loo and quite basic. Auntie Farr was very strict - quite Victorian, but kind with it. No reading, needlework or recreation on a Sunday - only church. Uncle Farr did buy us 'pop' on Sunday to have with lunch and latterly bought us The Dandy and Beano comics. These were our only treats, no pocket money or presents. We were never allowed to go back upstairs once we had come down in the morning in case we wore out the stair carpet! No going into the 'parlour' to try and play the piano either which I secretly wanted to do. Even though I couldn't play, I felt if I could practice I would be able to master it. I continually asked Auntie Farr to teach me, but she never would. If there was ever a thunderstorm, we had to sit under the stairs as Auntie Farr was terrified of them. The same applied if the air raid warning went. The cooking was plain and simple, but good even in war time. Auntie Farr was a tailoress and made everyone's clothes including Uncle Farr's suits and shirts. I think she made everything for him except his long johns! She knitted as well including our socks and was continually busy making, baking and cleaning. She would never allow gossip in the house - her motto was 'silence is golden'. No telephone to keep in touch with home only letters. I can even remember when they bought their first Roberts Radio - what a treat. Ann stayed with them until the end of the war but because the rest of my family had to move back to London and there was very little room, I continued to stay with the Farrs until I reached the age of 13 in 1951. Obviously I went to school there and on the whole I suppose I was happy enough, but then I didn't know anything different and I didn't have an option. For the war effort we had to go potatoe picking etc., but were paid for such things. Money was always spent wisely though and no luxuries. We always remained close friends with the Farrs until they died and we have very fond memories of them. I can, however, remember being dreadfully homesick and this is something I still suffer from today. I find it extremely difficult to say goodbye to anyone. I am sure that this is a result of the time we spent away from our mother to whom we were devoted. I used to go back to London for holidays but found it extremely difficult to return to Scunthorpe although there was, at that time, no choice. My mother used to put me in charge of the guard, but I travelled alone between Kings Cross and Doncaster, but was met there to travel onwards to Scunthorpe. I can remember the trains being packed and often I had to sit on a soldier's kitbag in the corridor. The war taught us many good values and made us independent, but it also, mostly in later years when you reflect upon things, made us very different people to what we may have been had we not been sent away from home at such a young age and for so long in my case. My mother had no choice. The people we lived with found it extremely difficult to send me back after such a long time - seven years - as I had become like their own daughter. Although they had a son of their own he was considerably older than me and was serving in the navy during the war. They were kind and caring people but for them it also brought heartache and something Auntie Farr never really got over. Looking back they were such very good and kind people as were very many other families who took in children. It must have been difficult to take on such a task. I came home one Christmas to discover that my mother had at last got her own flat and therefore I could stay so never went back to Scunthorpe. The two Belgian girls who travelled with us to Scunthorpe were so naughty they had to be sent home!!

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