大象传媒

The 3rd September 1939, is a date fixed forever in my memory. It was the day the Prime Minister of Great Britain made the announcement that this country was now at war with Germany.
this would be a war that would reach out and involve the lives of women and children, never known before, because of the invention of the aeroplane. The Government of the day had already prepared a vast evacuation scheme, which would move children from inner city areas to the safety of the countryside. It was put into operation immediatley when the war began.
We lived about a mile from the city centre in an area, which was close to all the targets the enemy would seek out to destroy. Docks, shipping, railways and factories, and five of our family of nine children were of school age, all eligible to be part of this evacuation of children from Liverpool.
Along with three sisters and a brother, I was taken on a very long journey from Edge Hill railway station, which was in sight of our home. Mother had provided us with a pillowcase each, which contained a change of clothes and a few other belongings. Off we went with our gas masks slung over our shoulders, a few sandwiches, and tears in our eyes.
We were seperated at an early stage of the journey. Edith who was five years old, was taken with the infants department of our school. John, who was ten, was taken with the boys. Girls and boys were seperated in those days at junior level. The other three girls, who included myself, stayed together. The journey seemed never ending and we had not been given any information as to where we were being taken. Finally, late Sunday evening we arrived in a village called Llanberis, several miles from Caernarfon in North Wales.
It appeared that all the children from our school, Clint Road, Edge Hill, had been taken to the surrounding villages to be billeted. The school hall was filled with people. I remember feeling devaststed, lost and lonely. There was no available billet for three children; we were to be seperated, until a dear lady agreed to take us into her home. This was to be a happy time for us but at first we longed to find our five year old sister Edith.
All evacuees were issued with a post card on which to write their address to be returned back home. Soon after this my mother sent us Edith's address, she was about three miles away from us, and our brother John, 16 miles away. Not only where we far away from our city home, this was another country with their own language that we had never heard before.
We had school friends around us and this helped to keep the tears away. We spent many hours exploring the countryside. School was attended on a part time basis, sharing the classrooms with the Welsh children. We settled down with an occasional visit to see Edith and John. Our foster parents, to whom we referred to as Auntie Blodwen and Uncle Tom, were very kind and thoughful people.
Within a few weeks some of our friends returned back home to their families. The air-raids that had been expected did not happen. We remained in Wales with a feeling of desertion of our own family and with much sadness. My mother regularly wrote and sent us pocket money. It was usually a one-shilling postal order that we cashed at a post office in the village.
As Christmas approached and with most of our friends gone back home, it was obvious we were left in our new home. Mother continued to write saying she was saving to come and visit us. We transferred to school in the next village. This was to be a new experience, travelling on the bus each day. We were such a mixed age group in that class I'm afraid we were just occupied rather than taught anything.
We attended the Welsh Chapel on Sundays with Auntie Blodwen and Uncle Tom. The singing and our contribution of reciting a verse from the Bible in the Welsh language was no hardship for us as we attended Sunday School and church back home. We missed listening to our own language.
The months went by and we received news from home of the birth of a new baby sister on the 23 April 1940, my Mothers tenth child. Mother, Father, little brother and new baby finally came to visit us in the late summer of 1940. This was a very happy occasion, as one would expect. I returned back home to Liverpool with them, with very little confidence, to earn my own living. Leaving my sisters behind with much heartache.
Edith remembers her little friend saying she was going back to Liverpool, Edith cried feeling very lonely when she had gone. In November 1940, Norma and her family were killed when a bomb exploded on a building in which they had sought shelter during an air-raid. My brother John was billeted on a farm where he worked very hard. Up at 5.30am, milking the cows and many other unpleasent tasks on the farm.
This is just a small insight into the life of an evacuee. We stayed in touch with Auntie Blodwen and Uncle Tom until 1984 when Blodwen died. We spent many happy holidays with them over the years and they were delighted with our own children.
I personally never felt unloved by my parents; in all good faith they felt their decision to send us away was the best they could do in the circumstances, which faced them.
I'm afraid life was never to be the same in the Liverpool household as we did grow apart. Life in the country had been a totally different experience to us evacuees and inevitably coloured our view of the world from then on.

'This story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War site by 大象传媒 Radio Merseyside鈥檚 People鈥檚 War team on behalf of the author and has been added to the site with his / her permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.'

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