大象传媒

It was a beautifull summers day in 1939.My mother and I had been evacuated to Seahouses in Northumberland.We were placed with the leading family in Seahouses at that time the Dawson's.They were apparently very rich and important and were also even to a nine year old,"doing their duty"by having evacues.The atmosphere was accepting rather than welcoming.
My mother and I went for a walk down the main street in mid morning on the first Sunday.At about 11a.m. we were met with the sight of the village Policeman wobbling down the street on his bycicle,blowing his whistle and shouting to all and sundry that we were at war.
The inference was that we were going to be bombed at any moment.There was a great buzz of excitement,
The excitement rapidly turned to boredom in the following week.By then nothing had really happened anywhere and my mother must have been missing my father,or visa versa,since we reurned home to brave the coming onslought.We did have the added protection of ou very own Anderson shelter in our back garden.This was later shared with our neighbour who had survived being an infantryman in the 1st world war.That however is another story.
My brother who had recently passed the scholarship for the newcastle Royal Grammar School had been evacuated with the school to whitehaven where I beleive he was deeply unhappy.We were hardly to see each other for almost four years a factor which I beleive deepply affected our relationship for the rest of our lives.This division of families was a frequent and damaging aspect of the badly thought out plans to safeguard the Nations children
Not long after returning home with my mother it was decided that it would be better and safer for me to be evacuated after all.I was not included in this decision.Fairly soon afterwards I was placed on an ancient bus.I had with me a haversack including my most treasured possesions together with a tin of golden syrup to sweeten my departure.The bus full of an assortment of children I had never seen in my life before struggled through the countryside to the Beautifull market town of Hexham.It then struggled even more up a very steep hill with clouds of steam pouring from under the bonnet.The bus conductor was required to lie accross the bonnet holding some piece of machinery in place otherwise we would never have arrive at Hexham Camp School.
I was shown to a dormitory shared with a large number of other strange children.It was uncomfortably hot and the hut smelled of creosote which made me feel sick as well as threatened.
The food was awfull the staff kind but remote.
It was hardly surprising that a new friend and I decided to plan the great escape.Four days at Hexham camp was enough.The two of us together with my by now opened tin of treacle and haversack simply walked out of the camp at about 9.a.m.after morning assembly.
Although only nine years old we succesfully got as far as Heddon on the Wall when tired and weary we were stopped by a passing Police Car. We had covered 15 miles on foot.I never knew whether he was taken in by our story that we had been out for the day from our homes in Newcastle and run out of money and were trying to walk home.
Greatly to our relief he offered to run us home.
I can still savour the moment that the front door opened and my parents stood in amazement contemplating their bedragled tired but happy offspring.
However this was not the end there was to be one further attempt to keep me safe from the german bombers which had not yet appeared.
This time it was to another Northumberland market town - Morpeth.The local school had been evacuated there a week or so ago.The result was that my mother had to take me there on the local bus.As you might imagine there was little choice of houses left prepared to take me in.I hated the one chosen on sight.The lady bless her was probably allright but to me she seemed very fat and unkempt.The house appeared to a snobbish 9yr.old to be in need of attention.Whilst my mother was negotiating details I was left on my own in the run down kitchen and still vivdly recall the battered kitchen table with severely chipped legs and equally sad looking chairs.Always impulsive I made my mind up immediately assisted by the sight of the open back door.I simply walked out never to return.When my mother reached the bus station for her return journey it was to discover me already there waiting for her.
That was the final attempt and the project of evacuation for me was given up.The reluctant evacue had triumphed.
The consequence of my actions were that I did not attend school for a year until there was a limited re opening for some schools.By then I was completely wild and suffered for some time after until I began to learn to live with the system.I was also later to endure numerous disturbed nights due to Air Raids and have good and bad experiences which would not have been mine had I been more accepting of the evacuation strategy.More of these another time

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