大象传媒

My first vivid memory of the war was when I came home from Butler Street School in the lunch hour and saw my Mother crying and clinging to my Father.
My Uncle Bob had come up from Saunby Street Garston on his bike to say goodbye.
No one had prepared me for this. In those days children were kept in the dark.
My Father was a reservist in the Royal Marines and called to Plymouth.

War had not been declared but the troops were mobilising. We lived in Butler Street and Peggy Hunter next door remembers my Father turning around at the top, his bag on his shoulder waiving goodbye.

My second memory was reaching Tuebrook Railway Station. My two brothers were in a separate group and my Mother who was a helper with Joyce Smith, also from Butler Street, and me. I was beheaving and my Mother was scolding me. Joyce was good and carried her Bible.
When we reached the school in Wales we were in a big room and people came to select us. A lady whose underskirt was showing slightly wanted me. I wanted to go with her she was pleasant but my Mother wouldn't let me. There were three of us left Joan Caree who lived in Baker Street, my Mother and I.
Two male organisers took us to Rydicrogwig Farm in Nannerch and begged Mr/Mrs. Asprey who were English to take us in.
Our days on the farm were full of happiness. Fields of sheep, hens that romaed free, pigs that loved to have their backs scratched, handsome plough horses the sons allowed us to mount on the journey homre, and cows that were milked by hand.
On a Sunday evening in September Joan and I were standing on a gate looking at the sheep. There was a beautiful sunset. We saw my mother returning from the village where she had gone to post a letter to my Father. She was breaking her heart crying.
The H.M.S. Courageous had been torpedoed. There was no radio in the farm or newspapers delivered. The King had left the ship four days earlier after shaking hands with my Father who was one of ten longest serving marines. She was an Aircraft Carrier in convoy sailing out of the Bristol CHannel. The Date was 17/9/39 and our first ship to go down.
My Mother returned home to await the news from plymouth. She went by milk lorry to Mold to get a bus to Birkenhead.
Joan Carr and I went to Nannerch Police Station each night to look for lists of survivors. The Policeman told me my Dad had been saved.
Joan Carr's parents came to take us home. Miss Boundy our headmistress came to supervise matters. We were all standing in the yard when the Welsh teacher dashed in saying she had to apologise to this child'because she had not believed me.
I saw roses in my Grandmothers best vase and was curious.
Then I saw my Mother in Black.

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