My younger brother and I were evacuated to Devon just before war
was declared. When I heard the news on the wireless a couple of
weeks later I burst into tears. I was still feeling very emotional
about leaving my family and I thought I’d never see Dad or anyone
ever again.
We went to stay with an old retired couple in a council house in
Exmouth. Mr and Mrs Gosling. Very posh compared with where we’d
come from. It was the first time I’d seen a bath with running water. It
was pumped from the kitchen. The panelling was black and white and
matched the lino. Back home we only had a tin bath under the table.
Mrs Gosling was crippled so she’d put the polish on the floor and
we’d tie things to our feet, my brother and I, and slide about til it was
nice and shiny. Her name was Thursa, but we always called her Mrs
Gosling, even though she broke her heart when we left.
I lost my mother when I was 2, so I liked being part of a family, even
though I was worried sick about the ones we’d left behind. There were
8 of us altogether – 6 brothers and a sister and my dad and a maiden
aunt who helped my dad bring us up. The Goslings had a grandson
my age. And a caravan. We had sweets every week and a one and
sixpenny postal order. 6d each for me, my brother and the grandson.
You could swim in the sea at Exmouth. We went to school 1 week in
the mornings, the other week in the afternoons. They didn’t really
have room for the evacuees – not enough teachers, so we just went
on what they called nature walks. Every week I wrote at the end of my
letter to Dad “Can we please come home?” and underlined it, til he
gave in and 3 years later we went back to London.
I remember doodlebugs. They were really frightening. The lull just
before they dropped their load. We used to go down the tube,
Elephant and Castle, then just for one night we didn’t go down and it
was badly bombed. I was living with my sister then and she just said,
‘I’ve had enough. Don’t feel like going down tonight’ so we didn’t go.
It was fate. I knew a lot of people who were killed. They’re still
down there.
On VE day my sister grabbed me and said “We’re going over to the
West End.” We only had to walk across Westminster Bridge to get
there. We went to Buckingham Palace and saw Churchill and the
Royal family up on the balcony – the King and Queen and the two
young princesses. Everybody went mad, dancing, doing the conga and
singing. What a time we had.