大象传媒

During my childhood years I was evacuated three times. The first time I can rememmber being on board a ship,(I'm told we had been sent to Dagenham Docks) where we boarded a boat for Derham,Norfolk. My mother said we met the most inhospitable people she had ever met.We returned to Dagenham at the first opportunity. This must have been when I was 4 years old

My next venture away was when I was 5 years old, I went to Milton Under Wytchwood,Oxon, with the youngest of my 3 sisters. We went to live with Aunt Violet and Uncle Ernie in Frog Lane. After a few months my mother and younger brother,Michael, came to live close by at Bruen Abbey. She was billetted in the harness room of the stables (one up and one down)and soon after we moved in with her.This was a very peaceful time of the war for us.However,things quietened down a bit back home, so off we all went to our new house in Ford Road,Dagenham. (Our old house had been bombed).

As time went on things began to hot up again. Doodle-bugs (V1's) were coming fast and furious. I would stand on the top of the air raid shelter waiting for their engines to stop amd watch to see where they had landed.

At this time my final evacuation came. June 1944- I was 8 years old and my brother was 6 years old. So with all of our possessions in two pillowcases and lables tied on our coat lapels, our mother took us to a central school in Dagenham, where all the kids were packed onto buses. Mum gave us a stick of Barley sugar and promised us through all of our tears that she was coming on the next bus. Except for a week-end visit that was the last we saw of her for a year.

The buses took us to a London mainline station where we boarded a train. I can remember this as if it was yesterday. Kids were hanging out of the trainwindows shouting to the American soldiers,"Got any gum chum".

We were given a parcel of foodfor the journey. It was a thick corned beef sandwich and a slab of currant cake, it ws great, two growing boys and we were always hungry.

We spent the whole journey in a compartment on our own.

We finished the trip at a distribution centre at Wilmslow, Cheshire and spent the nighton a palias. The next day we were taken to our new foster parents. The ride in the taxi was quite short. I remember getting very angry with the driver and the billetting officer for taking the Micky out of me and my brothers accent.

When we arrived at our new home(Apprentice House Styal) We were greeted by Mrs Henshall and her sister Miss Mabel Bone.

"I'm only supposed to have one evacuee", she retorted, but on seeing that I would not let go of my brothers hand she relented and said she would take us both.

We both tucked into a large bowl of strawberries. I can see my little brothers face still, the tears for his Mum were runing all around his mouth.

We had landed on our feet!!! We had come from war torn Dagenham to Camelot. We ere in heaven. We were unaware then that most of Styal belonged to the National Trust.

The Quarry Bank Mill was once owned by the Gregg family who had passed it on to the N.T. However, the looms were still working

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