大象传媒

Coventry Evacuee

At the tender age of two years I had to be separated from my parents, because of the outbreak of war. My father was called up; he joined the eighth army and was sent abroad. Living in Coventry was considered to be unsafe, so my mother decided that we should be evacuated. My brother was sent to Cannock with an aunt and my mother and I went to Kenilworth. My mother was going to work in the food office and accommodation was found for her, but she had to do the rounds of prospective 鈥渂illets鈥� for me. Although quite young, I must have had a ideas of my own about what kind of people I wanted to be with, because I learned later, that when I didn鈥檛 like the look any of these people, I crossed my eyes and lolled my tongue so that they thought I was 鈥榮imple鈥�! Eventually, I was left in the care of a Mr. and Mrs. Draper, who had recently lost their only child, Ronnie through Infantile Paralysis. Mr. Draper suffered from a chest complaint. I was really frightened of him, because of the dreadful noises he made when he coughed, but in fact, he was a gentle man and never said an unkind word to me. Mrs. Draper came from Barnstaple and had a lovely accent. She was kind to me and I loved her. I called them Auntie and Uncle Draper. I was served tea at four o鈥� clock, but when 鈥淯ncle鈥� came home from work each day, I sat next to him at the big, scrubbed kitchen table with a little plate in front of me, and he would give me some of his evening meal. It became quite a ceremony. Auntie Draper would say, 鈥淐hrissie鈥檚 been a good girl today, do you think she could have some of your dinner?鈥� He would answer in his deep Welsh drawl, 鈥淲ell! I should think she could, if you say it鈥檚 alright.鈥� I always replied, 鈥淭hank you very much, Uncle Draper!鈥� It never occurred to me that 鈥淎untie鈥� put an extra portion on his plate for me every day Ah! The innocence of childhood!
They lived in an old house, the walls at the front were covered in vines and each October, another little ritual took place. A wooden trestle table was erected in the back garden and all the little bunches of greeny, brown grapes were picked and shared out amongst the neighbours. I can still remember the 鈥榮harp, sweetness鈥� of the fruit, although my mother told me in later years that they were actually very, very sour. But to a child in the war years, with no recollection of how sweet things should taste, I was more than satisfied with them. Indeed when sweets became available again, my favourites were, and still are, pear drops and acid drops.
Every Saturday morning, my grandmother would come from Coventry and take me back to her house for the day. We travelled on a Midland Red bus and I used to entertain the other passengers by singing, 鈥淵ou are my Sunshine鈥�. I actually remember one occasion when an American passenger gave me a tiny tablet of scented soap. I kept it under my pillow so that I could smell it as I fell asleep! It was a beautiful smell and I used to run my finger around the etched picture of a lady鈥檚 head. I later recognised the smell and the picture on a tablet of Camay soap that my mother bought.
On Saturday evening my mother would collect me from Coventry
and take me back to her 鈥榖illets鈥� for one night. She had rooms at the home of an A.R.P. Warden. One Saturday night while I was staying there, my mother was called out on auxiliary fire service, so I was put in a bed with three other children in the main part of the house. I could see a double bed on the other side of the room with only one child in it, this seemed unfair to me so I crept out and got into the other bed where I could have more room. The only trouble was, this particular child had been put into a separate bed because she had measles. I caught them too and was so poorly that I developed a bad squint as a direct result of this escapade.
On Sunday mornings, I was returned to the Drapers and the weekly cycle started again.
My only real 鈥榳ar鈥� memories are of being lifted high on to 鈥淯ncle Draper鈥檚鈥� shoulders so that I could watch the searchlights from Coventry seeking out target planes from Germany, and of being in an air raid shelter near my granny鈥檚 house, drinking cocoa and singing wartime songs. In later life, however, other memories have been stirred on odd occasions. When I was newly married and living in a town quite close to an airport, whenever a plane passed over our house I would begin to shake, perspire and tremble. I was convinced that it was going to crash near me. My husband thought that I was being ridiculous until I told my mother how I felt. She looked thoughtful and said, 鈥淚 wonder if it has anything to do with the time you and I were in Coventry just after a raid and we saw bits of aeroplanes dropping out of the sky, I remember how you screamed and shook with fright.鈥� As she spoke I had a distinct recollection of seeing bits of metal glinting in the sunshine as they fell and the horrible noise that had occurred just before they appeared. and I trembled again at the memory.
The other strange thing that happened when we first moved to this same town was that, when the firemen were needed in a hurry, a siren was sounded. When it happened once in the middle of the night, apparently I grabbed my husband and yelled, 鈥淨uick, granny, into the shelter!鈥� So, it would seem that the war must have left me with a few little scars.
When my father returned home, he came to collect me I didn鈥檛 recognise him and when he bumped his head on an oak beam, I thought he must be a giant, and I ran off in fright! He had to fetch my mother who eventually managed to make me understand who he was.
After the war had ended, I used to go and visit the 鈥楧rapers鈥� but it was never the same, and eventually we lost touch. They must have been still grieving for their son when I came into their lives and I鈥檓 sure that I was not an easy child to cope with, however, I have nothing but happy memories of that time and I think of them often with great affection.

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