
Evacuees
Reproduced from Timewitnesses.org
Dennis’s Story-Freedom and fresh air
I was born on 31
July 1932 in New Cross, south London I am the middle child in a family
of three, a brother two years younger and a sister two years older.
During the war years,
I was evacuated four times to different parts of the England and Wales.
The first time I went with the whole school to Ringmer, in Sussex. My
sister and brother came with me. I can’t remember anything about the
journey on the train or even arriving at the destination. All I can
recall is the three of us stayed in a country house surrounded by lovely
countryside. This area is called the South Downs, the sea on one side
with soft hills leading down to the coast. I loved walking and exploring
the pathways along the coast. I had never had such freedom before. We
stayed there for six months before going home to London. Before our
return the winter was very cold. Everything was frozen, the streams,
rivers, and ponds. I recall seeing a rabbit frozen in a pond, poor thing.
It must have fallen into the water and couldn’t get out. They called
this the Phoney War.
Five months later
the whole family moved to Hatfield in Hertfordshire. My dad’s job was
connected with the aircraft industry. We stayed with a local family
during this time. The husband of the house was a milkman and as I enjoyed
being in the open air, I got up early in the morning to help him with
his milk round. He didn’t have a van for his round but a horse and cart.
One day as I was climbing onto the cart, the horse started forward suddenly,
I slipped back and fell badly onto the ground. I was taken to hospital
and spent one month flat on my back. I had broken the base of my skull.
I was sent to a convalescent hospital to get me better when they discovered
I was a carrier of Diphtheria, which is a contagious illness in children.
This time I was in an isolation ward. Between these two illnesses, I
was away for three months. Our stay in Hatfield lasted six months before
we once again returned to London.
Home again to the
Blitz. For a while we lived in a war zone. On the way to and from school,
my school friends and I would find out what was damaged in the night
raids. We picked up shrapnel from the bombs; some of it was still hot!
I can’t remember being frightened by all the bombed buildings we saw
– somehow it seemed fun in a way. However, the war was becoming dangerous
in London so a collection of junior schools and their teachers were
sent to a place called Lampeter in south Wales.
This time my sister
stayed with two single ladies whilst my brother and I were billeted
on a farm. The farmer shared the house with his son and a local maid
who did the cooking and housework. I loved the big fire in the living-room
kitchen because it spelled of freshly baked bread and cooking. The farm
had a small dairy herd and a big bull.
I guess I can look
back and say this was a very happy, contented time in my life. The freedom
to roam around the countryside climbing trees, playing without supervision,
in the fresh air was wonderful. However, all farms are kept busy all
year round so being a big strong lad, the farmer taught me how to milk
the cows, prepare their food, clear the shed of manure, feed the chickens,
lift bales of straw and many more chores. I took to this life without
effort and it made me physically strong. The farm also produced far
too many kittens; they overran us so I was taught to drown the litters
at birth. I also became very good at catching rabbits that were sold
in the local marketplace called Carmarthen. Owing to an incident at
the farm I was re-billeted with a host couple that lived two miles out
of the village.
I spent nine months
with this family. They had two children and it was a lovely happy time
I spent with them. Once again I was lucky enough live in the country
area that allowed me to explore the surrounding fields and play my games.
However, I learned that I had passed my 11 plus examination and would
be sent back to home to London.
The emergency grammar
school I attended was short lived. The flying bombs began in earnest
and it decided we were off again to Ashburton in Devon. My new home
suited me well because it was a mixed farm; newly built with an inside
toilet! I helped out with the farm work, attended school and it felt
so familiar. As I was a big lad and had a mind of my own, I became a
bit of a handful so I was moved to Totnes, a small town in Devon. I
stayed in a children’s home for about two to three months before returning
home.
Being an evacuee
made me a more confident, independent person. The farm work taught me
the value of the cycle of the seasons; birth and death; supply and demand
of food; and the effects of the weather. I have never lost this need
to be out in the fresh air walking and looking at nature in all her
glory. Yes, there were many bad times away from home and family, but
it made me stronger in spirit to deal with my future life


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