Home Front: Evacuation in Wartime Britain

'Some of my earliest memories go back to the time when, at the age of four years, I was standing in line at a local school, with my brother Tom and lots of other young children as we were awaiting transport to take us miles away from our parents and homes in London for evacuation at the start of the Second World War. We were each labelled with our names and ages and given a carrier bag of tinned food, which I remember was too heavy for me to carry...'

'For several months we were shunted around from one billet to another and with one of these we had to share with several other evacuees. I recall that in this small house, we were made to sleep in a big double bed, top and tail with boys and girls all in together. It was not surprising that among these small children, incontinence problems were experienced and it does not leave a lot to the imagination to guess just what the environment was like, especially as quite often, the sheets were just dried by the fire and put back on to the bed. I also recall that the older children belonging to the parents at that particular establishment, used to enjoy playful 'torturing' of us evacuees when left alone, by stringing us up by our hair to a nail in the wall.'

'... at the tender age of no more than six, I was expected to help with the housework which sometimes included black-leading the kitchen range and scrubbing the stone floored passage and front door step. The cottage was very antiquated with no electricity nor running water. For drinking purposes, it was necessary to take a bucket some way up the road and place this under a water spout, (which ran under ground from a local well), to be collected some hours later. Washing water was obtained from the river which ran about fifty yards from the back door, unless it rained heavily when it would be much closer! It was usually my job to collect the bucket which sometimes be full of overflowing and therefore too heavy for me to manage so accordingly, by the time that I reached home, my shoes and socks would be saturated, which of course incurred the wrath of Mrs Newman.'

'Some of my earliest memories go back to the time when, at the age of four years, I was standing in line at a local school, with my brother Tom and lots of other young children as we were awaiting transport to take us miles away from our parents and homes in London for evacuation at the start of the Second World War. We were each labelled with our names and ages and given a carrier bag of tinned food, which I remember was too heavy for me to carry...'

'For several months we were shunted around from one billet to another and with one of these we had to share with several other evacuees. I recall that in this small house, we were made to sleep in a big double bed, top and tail with boys and girls all in together. It was not surprising that among these small children, incontinence problems were experienced and it does not leave a lot to the imagination to guess just what the environment was like, especially as quite often, the sheets were just dried by the fire and put back on to the bed. I also recall that the older children belonging to the parents at that particular establishment, used to enjoy playful 'torturing' of us evacuees when left alone, by stringing us up by our hair to a nail in the wall.'

'... at the tender age of no more than six, I was expected to help with the housework which sometimes included black-leading the kitchen range and scrubbing the stone floored passage and front door step. The cottage was very antiquated with no electricity nor running water. For drinking purposes, it was necessary to take a bucket some way up the road and place this under a water spout, (which ran under ground from a local well), to be collected some hours later. Washing water was obtained from the river which ran about fifty yards from the back door, unless it rained heavily when it would be much closer! It was usually my job to collect the bucket which sometimes be full of overflowing and therefore too heavy for me to manage so accordingly, by the time that I reached home, my shoes and socks would be saturated, which of course incurred the wrath of Mrs Newman.'

'Some of my earliest memories go back to the time when, at the age of four years, I was standing in line at a local school, with my brother Tom and lots of other young children as we were awaiting transport to take us miles away from our parents and homes in London for evacuation at the start of the Second World War. We were each labelled with our names and ages and given a carrier bag of tinned food, which I remember was too heavy for me to carry...'

'For several months we were shunted around from one billet to another and with one of these we had to share with several other evacuees. I recall that in this small house, we were made to sleep in a big double bed, top and tail with boys and girls all in together. It was not surprising that among these small children, incontinence problems were experienced and it does not leave a lot to the imagination to guess just what the environment was like, especially as quite often, the sheets were just dried by the fire and put back on to the bed. I also recall that the older children belonging to the parents at that particular establishment, used to enjoy playful 'torturing' of us evacuees when left alone, by stringing us up by our hair to a nail in the wall.'

'... at the tender age of no more than six, I was expected to help with the housework which sometimes included black-leading the kitchen range and scrubbing the stone floored passage and front door step. The cottage was very antiquated with no electricity nor running water. For drinking purposes, it was necessary to take a bucket some way up the road and place this under a water spout, (which ran under ground from a local well), to be collected some hours later. Washing water was obtained from the river which ran about fifty yards from the back door, unless it rained heavily when it would be much closer! It was usually my job to collect the bucket which sometimes be full of overflowing and therefore too heavy for me to manage so accordingly, by the time that I reached home, my shoes and socks would be saturated, which of course incurred the wrath of Mrs Newman.'

'Some of my earliest memories go back to the time when, at the age of four years, I was standing in line at a local school, with my brother Tom and lots of other young children as we were awaiting transport to take us miles away from our parents and homes in London for evacuation at the start of the Second World War. We were each labelled with our names and ages and given a carrier bag of tinned food, which I remember was too heavy for me to carry...'

'For several months we were shunted around from one billet to another and with one of these we had to share with several other evacuees. I recall that in this small house, we were made to sleep in a big double bed, top and tail with boys and girls all in together. It was not surprising that among these small children, incontinence problems were experienced and it does not leave a lot to the imagination to guess just what the environment was like, especially as quite often, the sheets were just dried by the fire and put back on to the bed. I also recall that the older children belonging to the parents at that particular establishment, used to enjoy playful 'torturing' of us evacuees when left alone, by stringing us up by our hair to a nail in the wall.'

'... at the tender age of no more than six, I was expected to help with the housework which sometimes included black-leading the kitchen range and scrubbing the stone floored passage and front door step. The cottage was very antiquated with no electricity nor running water. For drinking purposes, it was necessary to take a bucket some way up the road and place this under a water spout, (which ran under ground from a local well), to be collected some hours later. Washing water was obtained from the river which ran about fifty yards from the back door, unless it rained heavily when it would be much closer! It was usually my job to collect the bucket which sometimes be full of overflowing and therefore too heavy for me to manage so accordingly, by the time that I reached home, my shoes and socks would be saturated, which of course incurred the wrath of Mrs Newman.'

'Some of my earliest memories go back to the time when, at the age of four years, I was standing in line at a local school, with my brother Tom and lots of other young children as we were awaiting transport to take us miles away from our parents and homes in London for evacuation at the start of the Second World War. We were each labelled with our names and ages and given a carrier bag of tinned food, which I remember was too heavy for me to carry...'

'For several months we were shunted around from one billet to another and with one of these we had to share with several other evacuees. I recall that in this small house, we were made to sleep in a big double bed, top and tail with boys and girls all in together. It was not surprising that among these small children, incontinence problems were experienced and it does not leave a lot to the imagination to guess just what the environment was like, especially as quite often, the sheets were just dried by the fire and put back on to the bed. I also recall that the older children belonging to the parents at that particular establishment, used to enjoy playful 'torturing' of us evacuees when left alone, by stringing us up by our hair to a nail in the wall.'

'... at the tender age of no more than six, I was expected to help with the housework which sometimes included black-leading the kitchen range and scrubbing the stone floored passage and front door step. The cottage was very antiquated with no electricity nor running water. For drinking purposes, it was necessary to take a bucket some way up the road and place this under a water spout, (which ran under ground from a local well), to be collected some hours later. Washing water was obtained from the river which ran about fifty yards from the back door, unless it rained heavily when it would be much closer! It was usually my job to collect the bucket which sometimes be full of overflowing and therefore too heavy for me to manage so accordingly, by the time that I reached home, my shoes and socks would be saturated, which of course incurred the wrath of Mrs Newman.'

'On 1^st September 1939, my sister, Pam, and I were evacuated, along with all our school - Eltham Central - to Deal in Kent. We were going to travel by train, and the excitement of the train ride allayed fears of leaving home to some extent. However, on arrival in Deal, the reality of the situation dawned. The children, labelled with their names, each clutched their one small case and a square cardboard box containing a gas mask. We were all clustered together waiting to be selected by the noble people who had agreed to look after evacuees. Whilst others were taken to their new homes, it seemed a very long time before our turn came. Our carers had no children but were on the whole very kind to us.'

'The happiest days were when we came down from our bedroom and on the mantelpiece would be a letter from home and it would be in an envelope painted by my father, usually humorous, and the painting incorporated our addresses in Deal and, of course, we just thrilled to see that.'

'And what it was an elderly father being looked after by his unmarried daughter. I suppose she was approaching fifty I would think. She didn't seem old to me. I suppose by twelve you have got a better judgement, haven't you. But she was so lovely to me. I think I became her daughter, and I don't think I had ever experienced before that anybody who praised me so much, and everything I did she thought was "very good, very well done"', and she actually came along with me to school one morning and said to the teacher – it was probably at assembly because there was a piano there – "You must listen to Judy singing to descant to All Through The Night"'. So the children, the rest of the class, knew it so there am I singing this descant. I don't think the teacher was impressed. Nothing came from it. But singing was the one thing in my life I really wanted to do. If I could have become a professional singer I would have been very, totally fulfilled. It wasn't to be. But that you see marvellous that she thought that was wonderful and so that was, you know, a relatively happy time, but I still missed my parents greatly.'

'But I do, even now I can feel the loneliness of the situation, and this lovely lady wanted so much to, I think enhance my education, and she wanted me to join her and her father. Of an evening he played classical music, so I had to wait outside the door after their dinner and I heard the conversation going on, "Do we have to that wretched child in here?"'

'Which destroyed, you know, the wonderful notion of the whole thing. I mean she was so lovely.'

'So, of course, I sat through this evening, because she got her way. I sat through this evening, but of course, it was marred. I was so conscious of this elderly gentleman not wanting me to be there. So that, that didn't happen again and sort of life just went on for a while after that and then I returned home and...'

'Some of my earliest memories go back to the time when, at the age of four years, I was standing in line at a local school, with my brother Tom and lots of other young children as we were awaiting transport to take us miles away from our parents and homes in London for evacuation at the start of the Second World War. We were each labelled with our names and ages and given a carrier bag of tinned food, which I remember was too heavy for me to carry...'

'For several months we were shunted around from one billet to another and with one of these we had to share with several other evacuees. I recall that in this small house, we were made to sleep in a big double bed, top and tail with boys and girls all in together. It was not surprising that among these small children, incontinence problems were experienced and it does not leave a lot to the imagination to guess just what the environment was like, especially as quite often, the sheets were just dried by the fire and put back on to the bed. I also recall that the older children belonging to the parents at that particular establishment, used to enjoy playful 'torturing' of us evacuees when left alone, by stringing us up by our hair to a nail in the wall.'

'... at the tender age of no more than six, I was expected to help with the housework which sometimes included black-leading the kitchen range and scrubbing the stone floored passage and front door step. The cottage was very antiquated with no electricity nor running water. For drinking purposes, it was necessary to take a bucket some way up the road and place this under a water spout, (which ran under ground from a local well), to be collected some hours later. Washing water was obtained from the river which ran about fifty yards from the back door, unless it rained heavily when it would be much closer! It was usually my job to collect the bucket which sometimes be full of overflowing and therefore too heavy for me to manage so accordingly, by the time that I reached home, my shoes and socks would be saturated, which of course incurred the wrath of Mrs Newman.'

'I do remember one woman who was not pleased with her daughter's billet, brought her home and turned up at our office with a bowl of lice (mercifully dead) which she threw at us saying she had collected them from her daughter's hair!'

'On 1^st September 1939, my sister, Pam, and I were evacuated, along with all our school - Eltham Central - to Deal in Kent. We were going to travel by train, and the excitement of the train ride allayed fears of leaving home to some extent. However, on arrival in Deal, the reality of the situation dawned. The children, labelled with their names, each clutched their one small case and a square cardboard box containing a gas mask. We were all clustered together waiting to be selected by the noble people who had agreed to look after evacuees. Whilst others were taken to their new homes, it seemed a very long time before our turn came. Our carers had no children but were on the whole very kind to us.'

'The happiest days were when we came down from our bedroom and on the mantelpiece would be a letter from home and it would be in an envelope painted by my father, usually humorous, and the painting incorporated our addresses in Deal and, of course, we just thrilled to see that.'

'And what it was an elderly father being looked after by his unmarried daughter. I suppose she was approaching fifty I would think. She didn't seem old to me. I suppose by twelve you have got a better judgement, haven't you. But she was so lovely to me. I think I became her daughter, and I don't think I had ever experienced before that anybody who praised me so much, and everything I did she thought was "very good, very well done"', and she actually came along with me to school one morning and said to the teacher – it was probably at assembly because there was a piano there – "You must listen to Judy singing to descant to All Through The Night"'. So the children, the rest of the class, knew it so there am I singing this descant. I don't think the teacher was impressed. Nothing came from it. But singing was the one thing in my life I really wanted to do. If I could have become a professional singer I would have been very, totally fulfilled. It wasn't to be. But that you see marvellous that she thought that was wonderful and so that was, you know, a relatively happy time, but I still missed my parents greatly.'

'But I do, even now I can feel the loneliness of the situation, and this lovely lady wanted so much to, I think enhance my education, and she wanted me to join her and her father. Of an evening he played classical music, so I had to wait outside the door after their dinner and I heard the conversation going on, "Do we have to that wretched child in here?"'

'Which destroyed, you know, the wonderful notion of the whole thing. I mean she was so lovely.'

'So, of course, I sat through this evening, because she got her way. I sat through this evening, but of course, it was marred. I was so conscious of this elderly gentleman not wanting me to be there. So that, that didn't happen again and sort of life just went on for a while after that and then I returned home and...'

'Some of my earliest memories go back to the time when, at the age of four years, I was standing in line at a local school, with my brother Tom and lots of other young children as we were awaiting transport to take us miles away from our parents and homes in London for evacuation at the start of the Second World War. We were each labelled with our names and ages and given a carrier bag of tinned food, which I remember was too heavy for me to carry...'

'For several months we were shunted around from one billet to another and with one of these we had to share with several other evacuees. I recall that in this small house, we were made to sleep in a big double bed, top and tail with boys and girls all in together. It was not surprising that among these small children, incontinence problems were experienced and it does not leave a lot to the imagination to guess just what the environment was like, especially as quite often, the sheets were just dried by the fire and put back on to the bed. I also recall that the older children belonging to the parents at that particular establishment, used to enjoy playful 'torturing' of us evacuees when left alone, by stringing us up by our hair to a nail in the wall.'

'... at the tender age of no more than six, I was expected to help with the housework which sometimes included black-leading the kitchen range and scrubbing the stone floored passage and front door step. The cottage was very antiquated with no electricity nor running water. For drinking purposes, it was necessary to take a bucket some way up the road and place this under a water spout, (which ran under ground from a local well), to be collected some hours later. Washing water was obtained from the river which ran about fifty yards from the back door, unless it rained heavily when it would be much closer! It was usually my job to collect the bucket which sometimes be full of overflowing and therefore too heavy for me to manage so accordingly, by the time that I reached home, my shoes and socks would be saturated, which of course incurred the wrath of Mrs Newman.'

'On 1^st September 1939, my sister, Pam, and I were evacuated, along with all our school - Eltham Central - to Deal in Kent. We were going to travel by train, and the excitement of the train ride allayed fears of leaving home to some extent. However, on arrival in Deal, the reality of the situation dawned. The children, labelled with their names, each clutched their one small case and a square cardboard box containing a gas mask. We were all clustered together waiting to be selected by the noble people who had agreed to look after evacuees. Whilst others were taken to their new homes, it seemed a very long time before our turn came. Our carers had no children but were on the whole very kind to us.'

'The happiest days were when we came down from our bedroom and on the mantelpiece would be a letter from home and it would be in an envelope painted by my father, usually humorous, and the painting incorporated our addresses in Deal and, of course, we just thrilled to see that.'

'And what it was an elderly father being looked after by his unmarried daughter. I suppose she was approaching fifty I would think. She didn't seem old to me. I suppose by twelve you have got a better judgement, haven't you. But she was so lovely to me. I think I became her daughter, and I don't think I had ever experienced before that anybody who praised me so much, and everything I did she thought was "very good, very well done"', and she actually came along with me to school one morning and said to the teacher – it was probably at assembly because there was a piano there – "You must listen to Judy singing to descant to All Through The Night"'. So the children, the rest of the class, knew it so there am I singing this descant. I don't think the teacher was impressed. Nothing came from it. But singing was the one thing in my life I really wanted to do. If I could have become a professional singer I would have been very, totally fulfilled. It wasn't to be. But that you see marvellous that she thought that was wonderful and so that was, you know, a relatively happy time, but I still missed my parents greatly.'

'But I do, even now I can feel the loneliness of the situation, and this lovely lady wanted so much to, I think enhance my education, and she wanted me to join her and her father. Of an evening he played classical music, so I had to wait outside the door after their dinner and I heard the conversation going on, "Do we have to that wretched child in here?"'

'Which destroyed, you know, the wonderful notion of the whole thing. I mean she was so lovely.'

'So, of course, I sat through this evening, because she got her way. I sat through this evening, but of course, it was marred. I was so conscious of this elderly gentleman not wanting me to be there. So that, that didn't happen again and sort of life just went on for a while after that and then I returned home and...'

'The Hall had been requisitioned by Middlesbrough Council for evacuees. Ten two to five year olds were there, being cared for by teachers and local domestic staff. The 'Buzz Bombs' (German V1 rockets) had started flying over Reigate on their way to London, which meant that Spurgeon's Orphanage was in danger. So children and staff were evacuated. The nursery age children were sent, with escorts, by bus to the Hall.

I see those dear little children in my memory and I recall their Christian names. A pretty blue eyed blonde called Alison. Her mother had died and her Daddy had gone down on HMS Hood. Then Charlie, Brian, Peter and a bundle of fun called Rosemary.