大象传媒

This story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War site by Elaine Stewart of Uckfield Community Learning Centre, a volunteer from 大象传媒 Southern Counties Radio on behalf of Jeanne Russell and has been added to the site with her permission. Jeanne Russell fully understands the site鈥檚 terms and conditions.

It was the beginning of the Second World War. My mother was standing on the station platform in London as I happily waved to her from the train which was moving away.

With many other children I was being evacuated from London with my school. I must have been six or seven. Only when I had children of my own did I realize the anguish my mother must have felt.

The train went to Three Bridges in Sussex. I was billeted with Mrs. Jackson, a kind lady with a grown up son who made me a photo frame for a picture of my soldier daddy. All was well at Mrs. Jackson鈥檚 until another girl came. The poor child was obviously affected by being away from home, as she wet the double bed we shared. She left, but the girl followed her was even worse.

My mother took me away in a hurry, and thus began a delightful time at the home of Miss. Temple. Miss. Temple and her sister (I don鈥檛 know by what name we called the sister, but it wasn鈥檛 鈥楳iss. Temple鈥�) had a country home, also in Three Bridges. It was an L shaped bungalow. When I arrived with my younger cousin, Shirley, we were shown to a double room with two single beds, and a knitted cuddly top on each bed. I don鈥檛 think the property was a farm, but it might have been some kind of small holding. There was plenty of land and at least one field of hay. To children from London it was bliss.

Shirley and I had our meals at a small table in the kitchen. The kitchen adjoined the living room where Miss Temple and her sister ate their meals. We never felt pushed out by this arrangement, but enjoyed having our own private table. No doubt the two gentle ladies felt that at least their meals need not be disrupted, but sat us where they could keep an eye on our behaviour

At the back of the house was a lovely garden. It had many trees and a path with an avenue of roses.. We had some marvellous games in the garden. Once when I was running fast along the path I caught a fly in my mouth. I have often re-lived the moment of disgust.

In front of the house was a field with a pond and ducks. I remember lifting a duck egg out of the water. There was also a small barn. Miss Temple鈥檚 odd job man, who did all the outside work, once brought us a mother hedgehog with several babies. These were kept in the shed. The babies were pink skinned with widely spaced long white hairs which we liked to stroke.. The adult hedgehog was very tolerant of us. She seemed a motherly creature and didn鈥檛 mind us stroking her babies. The hedgehogs gave us a fascinating education in nature. We were very upset one morning to find that mother hedgehog had left the shed and taken her babies away in the night. One other incident I remember is Shirley鈥檚 5th birthday. She ate too much rich birthday cake and was sick in the night. The dear little bedroom was in a terrible state. I can imagine how the two ladies felt.

Miss Temple鈥檚 house was situated in the heart of the country, and Shirley and I used to walk two miles to school along a country lane. We enjoyed dawdling along, discovering wild flowers. My mother has since told me of her dreadful anxiety at all the danger which might befall us.

The idyllic state at Miss Temple鈥檚 came to an abrupt end. I was in bed ill and the doctor came I was asked to show him my back. He said I must go to hospital. At the time I had a blister on my ankle and blithely assumed that was the reason. However, I was suffering from Scarlet Fever, and one of the identifying marks is red blotches on the back. So I went off to a nearby hospital and Shirley taken home.

I have always been grateful at the way two single ladies took two boisterous children into their home and looked after us firmly but kindly.

My mother used to travel from London to visit me in hospital. The train journey itself was hazardous as at any time there might be an air raid and the train in danger of being hit by bombs. She has told me since that sometimes when she was walking along the lane from the station, enemy aircraft flew overhead and started to attack. She was terrified and had to hide in the hedges to avoid being hit.

I was in an isolation ward and my mother was not allowed in. There were sandbags stacked against the lower half of the windows to protect them during air raids. My mother had to climb up on the sandbags to talk to me through the window, and she sent in presents via the nurses. I had no idea of all my mother must have gone through.

The next phase of being an evacuee was spent in Newark, Nottinghamshire. We stayed with some people my grandmother and her children had been billeted with in the First World War! Shirley and I stayed with Mr. and Mrs. Graves. They were quite elderly (or so we thought), but we got on well with their niece, Lillian, who lived with them. We used to light our way to bed with candles other lighting in the house was gas. At Christmas our families sent our presents, and we were amazed on Christmas morning to find a pillow case each, filled with goodies. Another pleasure at the Graves home was a pianola in the living room 鈥� it was fascinating. Once when my father visited me from his army camp he took me to buy a handbag. We went to Marks and Spencer where some of the handbags were shown as 鈥淟ittle Ladies Handbags鈥�

My tender conscience caused me to hesitate over choosing one of these, as I believed they were intended for midget sized adult ladies! However, reason prevailed when my father explained and I remember clearly the smart bag he bought me.

Our next move was to a relative in Cheam, Surrey. This was a noisy, happy household, with other children in the family only now do I realize how it was very good of her to take in two more children, as she had more that enough to do.

After a spell in London, when the bombing was continuous (we spent much of our time under the Morrison shelter in the front room, and in an underground shelter up the road), my mother and I and my new baby sister went to stay in Hebden Bridge in Yorkshire. We stayed with a family who had a young son. Again with hindsight I understand how we must have disrupted their lives. Living in Yorkshire gave me my first experience of the Yorkshire Moors, which were wonderful I had never before heard of blueberries, let alone pick them!

As the War drew to its close, it became safe for us to move back to London and resume normal life. I was then able to have some continuity in my education (until I moved again, which is another story)

On becoming a mother, I declared I would never send my children away without me. But that was not because I had been unhappy. I enjoyed my years as an evacuee, and in fact am grateful for the opportunity to live in country places. I was cared for by some very kind people, and learned many things I wopuld never have known had all my childhood been spent in London.

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