EVACUATION - MARCH 1943 - JANUARY 1945

 

Carrying our gasmasks and one small case and not knowing where we were going, my brother and I assembled with other children at our local railway station (Surbiton). We travelled then to London then Paddington into the unknown. Finally, at 3pm we arrived in Bideford, North Devon. Buses were waiting to take us to our final destination Hartland.

My brother and I were to be billeted to a childless couple, who owned a garage, to say the least they were not thrilled to take in two boisterous boys. We stayed in this accommodation for three months, the authorities then rehoused us. My brother Bob had recently passed the 11 plus exam so was sent to Bideford to be near his new school.

Beach, sea and surf near Bideford

What a change to be billeted with two maiden ladies, but he had a great time during his fifteen month stay. I was taken to a farmhouse called Markedon' some four miles from the village. I spent an idyllic time there with Tom and Ethel who treated me like their own son. Owen their son was a stoker on a destroyer, not a good place to be during the war.

Being a 'townie' I had a lot to leam about the countryside, for instance I learned the true meaning of Boxing Day.

Tom had a lovely five-year-old greyhound called Tiger, at home he was temporarily my dog, an inexperienced 'townie'! Boxing Day we all set out for the fields around the farm, three dogs and eight guns. Tom covered all the entrance holes to the rabbits and hares' warrens he then sent a ferret down the only uncovered hole. We all sat on the grass to watch the fun begin. As the rabbits and hares emerged from the hole, the dogs attempted to catch them. Tiger was very good at this being the fastest dog. If dogs failed to catch the rabbits and hares, then the farmers' guns would soon dispatch them. Halfway through the day the women would bring refreshments for all, cider (homemade) 'tatty' pasties (very good) and cakes.

Getting to school was hard at first, having to walk two miles to catch the bus, then a four mile trek back home, but I soon got used to long walks. Owing to a shortage of teachers, my brother Bob and my sister Olive (who had now also been evacuated to a farm nearby) and myself were all educated in one class, schoolwork was determined by age. Whilst in Hartland I learned to play the tuba in the Junior Hartland Band. The war was coming to its end, when my mother cane to take us back to Surbiton. I will never forget the kindness bestowed on me by those lovely people.

Sheila and I still visit Hartland to stay with the granddaughter of Tom and Ethel, but sadly, as time goes on the people I knew are departing this life.