大象传媒

Evacuation to Grandpa鈥檚 in Newport (Mon)

In the first week of September 1939, a couple of weeks after my tenth birthday, together with my parents, I was getting to the end of a holiday at my maternal grandfather鈥檚 house in Newport, Monmouthshire. On one day, my father had taken me to see the famous Transporter Bridge over the River Usk. We climbed one of the towers and crossed using the footway some 175ft above the river, something I would not be capable of doing these days. We returned in the suspended platform with the road vehicles. On Saturday 2nd September, we travelled by rail, through the Severn Tunnel to Bristol to visit friends of my parents. The day was most memorable to me because we travelled there and back to Newport in one of the Great Western Railway streamlined diesel railcars. However, I also recall discussion between my parents and their Bristolian friends, about the threat of war and plans to evacuate schoolchildren from the cities to towns and villages in country areas.
My grandfather, who was aged 77, for reasons only known to him, refused to have a wireless set in his home. So, mid morning on Sunday 3rd of September, my parents and I went up the road to the house of one of my mother鈥檚 sisters and her husband to hear the broadcast by the Prime Minister, Neville Chamberlain, in which he told the nation that as from 11 AM, a state of war existed between the UK and Nazi Germany. We returned to my grandfather鈥檚 house in time for lunch, during which, it was decided that I should stay with my grandfather, rather than return with my parents to our home in Ealing. Fortunately, I got on well with 鈥淕randpa鈥� and another of my mother鈥檚 sisters, who looked after him. Even so, life for me was going to be different as an 鈥渆vacuee鈥�. The majority of my classmates at Lammas junior school in Ealing, were evacuated en bloc. At least I was with family. Indeed, since both my parents had been born and brought up in Newport, I had quite a few uncles, aunts and cousins in that area.
The first thing to organise was a school for me to attend. Within a few days, it was arranged that I went to Durham Road Junior School, where I would be in the top class. The major difference between Durham Road and Lammas schools was that at Durham Road, boys and girls were segregated, girls on the ground floor and boys on the first floor. The head teacher for the boys was a Mr Webb and my class teacher was a Mr Gibson. This was the first time I had experienced men as teachers, so it was all very different. I can say with all honesty that I enjoyed this school. For the first time I was set homework to do and I particularly enjoyed the weekly woodwork class, a basic introduction to DIY!
I soon settled into the routine at my grandfather鈥檚 home. I helped my aunt with the shopping from small stores on Caerleon Road. One thing that intrigued me was that a Mr Hayward delivered milk daily using a pony and trap to carry a milk churn, dispensing milk straight from the churn into ones milk jug. Quite different to the bottles delivered by the Express Dairy in Ealing. Each evening a boy delivered a copy of the South Wales Argus, the local evening newspaper and in the absence of a wireless; this kept us in touch with what was happening with regard to the war. After my grandfather had finished with the newspaper, my aunt would check through the 鈥渉atches, matches and dispatches鈥� columns to see whether she knew any of the people mentioned. I also recall that she and I would look down the 鈥渟mall ads鈥� for amusing adverts inserted by a local chemist (Bannister and Thatcher?). After all, with no wireless, we had to find something to pass the time. Before departing, my parents had purchased a No 5 Meccano set for me and this was a boon and perhaps pointed me in the direction of my future career in engineering.
Each Thursday and Saturday evening, a number of my uncles and aunts would arrive and stay for a couple of hours to play solo with my grandfather. I used to watch until, it was my bedtime around 9 o鈥檆lock. I gradually picked up how to play solo and also learned from my grandfather a number of various games of Patience.
In the winter, we relied on a coal fire for heating the living room, no central heating in those days. We only had hot water for bathing once a week, on a Friday. I went to bed with a stone hot water bottle with a knitted wool cover, filled from a kettle of very hot water. The water from this was still warm enough in the morning for washing face and hands prior to going to school.
During the first few weeks, regular convoys of army vehicles, including tracked Bren Gun Carriers passed along Caerleon Road on their way to Newport Docks, probably never to return. Apart from these convoys I saw little evidence locally that there was a war on. However, some of the police officers on duty in the town appeared to be armed with a large revolver carried in a holster on their belt. The arrival of identity cards followed and after the war was over, the number on the card used, until a few years ago, as ones National Health Service number. Later that year, there were a number of minor air raids, usually involving only one or two enemy bombers. I spotted a Heinkel 111 on one occasion and a Dornier 17 on another, on both occasions prior to the sounding of the air raid siren. The sound of their engines was very distinctive. One of my uncles was a member of the Observer Corps and took his turn manning the local observation post situated on Ridgeway, the other side of the town. The base of this post is still evident but trees now obscure the view out over the docks area and the Bristol Channel. On a number of occasions when we knew he was on duty, my aunt and I would take the No 4 bus from Somerset Rd to the terminus on Risca Rd., the other side of the town. From there we would walk up to the observer post and if all was quiet, I was allowed in to look at the equipment. I recall that the device used for tracking aircraft incorporated Meccano wheels, identical to those in my set at home.
About once a month, my father would travel down to Newport on the 8.55 train from Paddington in order to see how I was getting on. After a few hours and lunch, he would return on a late afternoon train to London. A long day for him to endure.
During my third term at Durham Road School, I sat for a scholarship to Newport Boys High School, the equivalent to the 11 plus examination. I was successful in obtaining a place but in the event never took it up. For reasons that I am not sure but possibly, because at that time there appeared to be more danger from air raids in Newport compared to Ealing, my parents decided that I should return to Ealing early in August 1940. Certainly, for me, the first year of the war had been relatively uneventful. I had been fortunate. What did the future back in Ealing have in store?

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