My first evacuation was to Horton Kirby in Kent, right in the path of the bombers coming over to bomb London. There was a gun emplacement not far away and everytime the air raid warning sounded we all used to run outside to watch the soldiers scramble for the gun & only after they started firing we went inside but not to an air raid shelter as there wasn't one. This was very early in the war & I didn't stay there long.
The next evacuation my sister & I went to Gunnislake in Cornwall. One of the stories I have already related (about chucking apples to the soldiers) took place there. I remember the name of the people who looked after us - it was Daniels & they had once lived in Africa. Mr Daniels also organised the Home Guard.
Sometime later in the war (I really don't know when)I was sent to live with my Aunt Doris (who was also my godmother)in Devon. She & her friend were cooks at a large house that had taken in many evacuee children. Apparently Marty Wilde was one of them but I can't remember him. The village was called Thurlestone near Kingsbridge, but the cottage we lived in was a long walk along the cliffs right by the sea. It was called Beach Cottage/House. There was something on the beach that looked like scaffolding, we were told that it was there to stop anyting landing on the beach but we children used to play on it & swing round it. I remember there was a small river that ran into the sea nearby with a very wobbly bridge over it & I hated crossing it. The path on the other side led to Hope Cove. Does anyone out there know this place? Despite the war and homesickness we children were quite happy as we were allowed to play on the beach & in the sea more or less whenever we wanted to. There was only one beach that we were not allowed on because it was mined - even so, there was a way round it & we used to go there, until we got caught.
I also spent quite a bit of time in various hospitals as a child & when the flying bombs started the hospital where I was a patient was evacuted to Yorkshire & we didn't return from there until after the war had ended.
When I was at home in London my father, who was a Fire Watcher, used to send me round the houses with the duty book to get everyone's signature & I remember that one lady came to the door wrapped in a large towel to sign the book - I had got her out of the bath!
Katdor