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MEMORIES of evacuation (Oct 1943- April 1945)

It is the late summer of 1943. I am six years old, my sister Iris is a year younger and my other sister Maureen is only just three years old. There are lots of other children like us, all with our gas masks in cardboard boxes, slung across the chest and our names and addresses written in big black print on brown luggage labels. We are at one of the Aldersbrook Homes in Redbridge east London and, although we do not know it, about to leave London as evacuees. After a long journey by train and bus, which lasted well past our normal bedtime, we arrive at a very big house called St Moritz at Trebetherick in North Cornwall. My sister Iris and I are put to bed in a large room with at least two or three other children, but my youngest sister is taken away by a nurse. It is all very strange and completely unexpected, but we are tired and glad to go to sleep. After all it is only a holiday. Little did we know that this is to be our ‘home’ for almost two years.

The St Moritz was taken over by the staff from Aldersbrook- the only one I recall was called Jane. (In fact she was the youngest and her name was actually Joan Bish. She later married a local farmworker, Harry Male). Only the school-age children, about twenty-five in all, are in the main building. The under fives, including our sister Maureen, lived in another house. I think it may have been Tristram House across the other side of Polzeath Bay at New Polzeath. The nurse in charge of this house was called Nurse Cloke or Cloak. She wore a cloak and my sister thought she was a witch. I remember being worried about this, as my mother had told me to look after her as she was so little. I think most of the children in the main building were older than Iris and I. I can still remember the name of one- a boy call Carl or Karl who sat behind me at school. I think I remember him because he was always in trouble. (I have since discovered that he was probably not at our home which was all girls, but may have been one of the 300 hundred evacuees in the area at the tome. Our school was in Trebetherick village, a single storey hut divided into just two classrooms. The other places I remember visiting were the post office -once a week I believe - where we were allowed to send letters home and aerograms to my father who was in the army abroad - and, occasionally, a sort of drapers shop that sold socks and dresses etc. There was also a farm right opposite the end of the lane where St Moritz is and one day I remembering falling over in the mud, because I was terrified to be confronted by a herd of black and white cows coming out into the road towards me. My favourite time was that spent on the beach (Daymer Bay) which was reached from almost directly outside the hotel by some steep steps SET INTO THE CLIFFS. This beach had rock pools and at least one cave to explore. I did sometimes swim in the sea, but remember that there was alot of seaweed that clung around one’s legs.
I also remember being taken for walks in crocodiles along very narrow lanes with lots of wild flowers-maybe just for exercise or maybe to Sunday School. It is likely that we were taken to the Methodist Chapel in Polzeath as there is apparently a plaque in that church mentioning the Aldersbrook Home. Iris and I rarely saw our youngest sister, although Iris and she were together when they both had chicken pox. We never saw any of our family from London at all, but we did hear from both our mother and father occasionally. Despite this, I did not want to come home when it was time to leave. For me it was a magic place, far away from the city slums and the air raids that had disturbed my sleep throughout most of my childhood. Just before I was due to go home, I slipped down the rocks and cut myself badly, so had to stay a bit longer, but I’m sure I didn’t do it on purpose.

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