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Evacuation Of Children World War 2

My two sisters and two brothers were evacuated from Brum right at the beginning of the war. My sisters went first to Leicester, some place that was infested with rats so my mother got them out of there and found a family at Swadlingcote, Derby. There they stayed some 5 years until the war was well and truly over, almost forgetting what their mother had looked like! My youngest sister says that, in later life, was the cause of her not being able to get on well with her mother.
 
Perhaps Graham your sister didn't get with your mom was because like me she didn't have too good a time of it . .

In some cases evacuation had an adverse effect - especially if one's parent had met someone else. . . This split up families never to be reconciled If that happened to children sent Australia they were put in a worse position not only were they lied to into thinking their parents were dead they were placed in orphanages. . .


 
Beryl, It the first time I have read this thread and first of all I would like to Thank you for putting it all down in writing so other folk can read it...
Now I know why you are such a wise woman and I think you have said before ..........if we ever met we could chat long into the night and tear the World apart ...........but as we live on opposite sides of this ball of clay ...I don't think it will ever happen ...but sometimes hearts touch and feelings are created and if I could turn back the clock I would have protected you with my life but the World is so big I could not be in so many places to help all the ones who were so vunrable.................
Stories like yours need repeating over and over again in this so called blinkered ball of clay and I feel so sad that so many stories like yours are lost because they are not recorded...........
I must add a lot of the evacuees like my mate George Green had simply wonderful memories which molded his way of life for the better
While others felt that they would have been better off dead ...
Terrible words coming from an adult...but that is reality in all its stark form..........
 
Chris - What a wonderful record of your memories in Devon. What makes it so interesting for me is that my brother was one of the Anglican Vicars in Frogmore for the past few years until having to move to be nearer to a major hospital in October. I was fortunate enough to have visited Frogmore in 1997 and then again with my husband in 2005.
I don't think things can have changed very much there in the last hundred year or more, except they were replacing all the water mains in 2005. In 1997 I was walking over the bridge from my brothers house on Willow Close to the only village store and someone stopped and asked if I was the vicars sister. She said you are so much like your brother, don't you live in Canada. Everyone knew I was in the village. In 2005 we walked up the lanes and on one occasion visited a farm owned by my brothers friends. The sides of the road and hedges were so high and covered with wild flowers.
Maybe you remember these places. I can't remember the name of this church, I think they did the services at about five in the area..

Frogmore Creek - Main Road through Frogmore - Main Church
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Thanks, Sakura – it’s a small world, isn’t it.

In the picture looking down the main road, the Cummingses ended up after their forced evacuation in 1943/44 in a cottage a little further down on the left, their livestock in temporary enclosures outside the back door. And behind the camera, at the top of the village is/was a thatched cottage which always intrigued me: it was at the fork of the road and a lane and was shaped like a slice of cake. It was unoccupied in 1941. One day Mr. C., who must have used it as some sort of store, took me to it in his horse and cart. We trundled all the way from Keynedon with me eating a rosy apple which he had produced from his pocket. (A nice man. I’ll give you a picture of him below.). Virtually no one about and not a car in sight.

Changes? The junction of the main road and the lane to Sherford is one. This was drastically improved and opened up just after the war (or was it to do with the Americans?). I think my father must have had enough petrol to deliver the family to Keynedon in 1941 before returning to Birmingham for a while, then coming back by train to collect us. I have a memory of standing on the nearby bridge with my mother, waving him off as he started out in his little Ford Prefect on his long, lonely journey back to battered Brum. But the main change is that the area is now highly desirable and a property hotspot. I’ve inserted below a 1938 picture of the farmhouse which was the front of a large, mainly disused mill. You can buy the property now, if you want, but you may need to win the National Lottery first. It’s here, apparently in February 2008. https://www.knightfrank.co.uk/propertyImages/S1047357/EXE080047_det.pdf
With all the landscaping and other changes I can barely recognise anything familiar. Even “my” farmhouse, the front of the property facing the lane, is not deemed important enough to be shown. How unfeelingly people trample on our precious memories!

Chris
 
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I wasn't evacuated as I was only a baby but my brother who was about 12 years old went to Glossop in Derbyshire, he was only there for about a fortnight when he broke his arm and came home, he went somewhere else but I can't recall the name, then to another place just outside Cheltenham which we told me was awful and he was badly treated so my parents brought him home. Bt then he was coming up to 14 - school leaving age and went to work at Shelleys, Aston Brook Street, until he was called up and served in the navy from 1944 to 1946/47 when he chose to be demobbed in Australia where he was serving after ferrying p.o.w's from the Far East for rest and recuperation before they were sent home to England. He had met his future wife and they married in 1947.

One of my sisters was evacuated to Worksop, Nottinghamshire, she was about 11 years old, she was first billeted in a type of mansion house with a number of other children, they slept in the servants quarter at the top of the house and rarely saw the owners, being looked after by the servants. After a couple of months they had to move out because the owners wanted family members to stay away from the bombing in London.

She was then billeted with a lovely family called Tattersall, I remember mom & dad taking me to visit her - I was only about 3 years old, and it must have been an arduous journey in wartime. She stayed there until she was 14 and had to come home to start work. She kept in touch with them until they died, then with their daughter Mary, who went to school with my sister.

About 17 years ago we were on holiday in Portugal and got chatting to a lady and her old aunt, and they said they came from Worksop, and the aunt knew a lot of people my sister went to school with in Worksop. We bumped into them a few times during the holiday and my sister was brought up to date with a lot of the people from those days.
 
Read your article John and it brings back many memories. My aunt lived on Greenhill road and worked at the Regal in the ticket box. – Her long red painted nails fascinated me. I am sure many can attest on this forum that in those days we made our own fun. - And my you were a cut little boy, no wonder –Mrs Barton wanted to adopt you. It would have held up in court anyhow when you had a mother who loved you. Your mom wasn't going to take that chance.

Thank you for your lovely comment Graham, I know you would have protected me and still would. I still think if we did get together we would never stop talking. . .

I must say I am glad to see you back among friends. I believe a friend can be someone whom we have never met – or even touched. The presence of that personality, their sparkle can be felt across the screen. Laughter or sadness something of personal concern through the net it can carry a heart. I know because I have one.

Once the evacuation was complete the government sat back to assess its success or failure, what they found was that fewer evacuees had been evacuated than expected. Furthermore, a significant number were drifting back. It was estimated 6 thousand in a week were returning back to London alone.

In the safe areas children were being bounced from one billet to another, many of these foster parents were unable to cope as many of these were elderly. In all fairness, to all who agreed to accept evacuees they opened their door to a variety of children they didn’t expect. Hence, there were the complaints of bedwetting, scabies and behavioural problems.

There were also children like me who had been accustomed to a better way of life, than we encountered in our billets. Never forget my first meal: boiled potatoes with vinegar poured on them. ‘You will eat anything when you are hungry,’ they said, ‘Now, up to your room’ No sitting down to listen to the radio or anything. . .

Lying in strange cold bed at the end of a weary day, I hid myself under the covers and cried

A short version of my story was published in the ‘Brumagem’ about two years ago and so was ‘I Never Sleep’.
 
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Did anyone read the poem Annie the Evacuee in the June Brummagem magazine, it was so sad, and makes me fell glad that my mom had a lovely couple take her in, but sad that her brothers and sisters didn't, I can't imagine how terrible it must have been for them.
 
hi mariew. i will get the brummegem later and read the poem. my dad was evacuated at the the age of 10 or 11 to a little village in skenfrith wales.he was very happy there but his sister was not happy with the couple who took her in so she had to be moved to someone else. i only recently found out that dad has always wanted to go back there for a visit. he remembers everything about his time there. now at the age of nearly 80 he is get his wish. as a surprise i booked an overnight stay at the local pub in skenfrith. that gives him time to have a good look round and do all his remenising. when i told him he was over the moon and cant stop talking about going back there. moms coming to so it will be a nice break for them both. we go on 17th august so i will post a couple of pictures. wales.
 
What a lovely surprise for your dad, Wales. I love visiting places from my young days. Love to see your photo's when you get back.
 
How lovely Wales I hope you all have a good time! take lots of pictures for us.
 
thanks all. dad knows that some things will have changed but i have managed to find out that his old school is still there and of course the pub which was a 16th cent coaching house. thats where we will be staying overnight. since i dropped it on him 3 weeks ago hes had his camera batteries on permenent charge. ha ha bless. be in touch. wales.
 
Wales - what a lovely idea. I hope it hasn't changed too much.

My Mom's 2 older sisters were evacuated (Mom was too young). My Aunt Joyce landed with a lovely family to whom she wrote for many years after the war. My Aunt Sheila was not so lucky and was treated VERY badly - my Nan fetched her back as soon as she found out.
 
thanks beatrice. its a shame some children did not have a happy time. it must have been hard enough being seperated from their parents as it was. im sure dad is marking off the days on the calender. hes like a child waiting for christmas. like i said we go on 17th august 2 days after my daughters 18th bash so after that a nice quiet welsh village will do me fine. will be posting some pics. wales
 
My Sister and myself were not evacuated but Dad arranged a break for Mom and his Mom in a place called Evershot Dorset to get away from the Bombing.

Dad was stationed at Blanford Dorset at the time and got in with a local Farmer with his family who put us all up for about 5 weeks.

My Sister and myself slept in the Room over the Front Door, the new owners allowed us to look all over the house and enjoyed the fact that we had made the effort to go and see it.

This is where we stayed these photo taken when I took my lads back in 1990.
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I was 9 in 1940 ,my brother ken aged 13 & I went with St Mary's school to Cutnall Green Worcs.,Ken went on a farm the owners were very nice . I remember beig driven by a WVS lady who was asking people if they would take me in .it was dark by the time a lady said she would take me for 3 weeks until her baby arrived .she her husband & 2 sons who were very kind, The next place was with a family who weren't very nice, & my brother (who I think didn't want to besaddled with me) took me to a lady who had 2 daughters of her own & had just taken in 2 girls,she said that she felt so sorry for me & took me in. Auntie Marg as we called was marvelous, I stayed with her for a year then went home I was homesick! Aunty Marg was a great support through my teen & married years right up to when she died, I always said iI was blessed with 2 mothers. I still keep in touch & visit her daughters when ever I visit UK but phone regulary.

Jean
 
nice memories bramwell. as we have read there were some good and bad times for the the children who were evacuated. what difficult times they must have been. ALF lovely pictures i want to live in that village. will be posting my pics after we have taken dad on his trip down memory lane. wales.
 
I think this topic has considerable scope for a sub-forum as there must be so many first or second hand stories, some good some not so, but nevertheless I find them fascinating.

Some years ago when I was in Newent. Gloucs, on a 'tourist trip' I got talking to a lady who was involved in decorating the town and various shop fronts. From memory this was for the 50th Anniversary of VE Day and I told her that my Dad had been evacuated from Gower Street school to Tibberton which is near Newent and he remembers his time in the area very well, mostly with affection.

The lady asked me if he would be prepared to jot down a few memories which could perhaps be included in a local magazine article, which he did. The response was remarkable, he received many letters from people, requests from other magazines and newspapers for permission to print his memories and requesting more details. He was happy to do this and various snippets subsequently appeared in print.

I took him on a 'memory lane' visit, this would be late 1998 and his memory of the area and its people was remarkable. he subsequently met up with a few people and still corresponds with one or two of them, though as you can imagine many are no longer with us.

He grew up in Berners Street, Lozells and subsequently moved to Peel Street, Winson Green which is where I was born. He joined up after the war and spent seven years with Royal Marines 40 Commando. Fortunately both mom and dad are still alive and live in Alvechurch

Bob
 
i agree bob. a sub forum would be good. this subject seems to be creating a lot of interest. wales.
 
Yes, I agree with you Bob this thread has created far more interest than ever I thought it would -

It was John H who originally posted my story on 'Handsworth History', but it was Chris M who suggested I start this thread - How right he was. . .So many interesting stories some happy some sad - A part of life never to be forgotten by British evacuees

This is John H's Story

https://www.handsworthhistory.co.uk/handsworth_26.htm
 
hi folks. we took dad to skenfrith in wales at the weekend back to where he was evacuated during ww2. dad is 79 now and hasnt been back since a young lad of 12. not knowing what to expect i was very nervous that the place would have nothing left of what dad remembered. as we came over the bridge of the river monnow and into the little village dads emmotions got the better of him (and us). we checked into the bell inn and dad couldnt wait to have a look around. imagine our surprise to find that all but a few houses that were in front of skenfrith castle were still there. obviously the bell inn was there also still there was the church/ the chapel/skenfrith castle/the bridge inn pub(although not a pub now) dads school and the icing on the cake the farmhouse where dad lived with the couple who took him. the name of the farmhouse then was springfields farmhouse and still is called that today. dad was so overcome to see it still there i had to take all the photos. after about 5mins the lady who now owns the farmhouse came out. we expained why we were there and immediately she opened the gate for us and invited dad to look around both the inside and outside. after going round all the places he knew as a child we headed back to the village. now every sunday the village open up a little barn and they sell local procuce etc to any visitors who may be passing. dad spoke to one of the local women there and gave her a few names of mates and people who he knew during the war years. of course as we expected some had move away and a lot had passed on. but then dad mentioned the name of his best mate gwin jones. they did everying together and it was gwin who taught dad how to ride a bike. imagine our amazement when the lady said o yes gwin moved from here but is only living about 5 miles away and that most sundays he comes down to skenfrith. anyway we had another wonder about and came back to the barn about 2 hours later. suddenly the woman called dad and said : theres gwin just over by the castle in the white trousers: me mom and hubby held back as we watched dad walk across the grass to the unsuspecting gwin. dad went up to him and after about 30 seconds the realisation of who dad was struck gwin then it was all hugs kisses handshakes tears. how wonderful for them to meet after 68 years. everyone was so kind and helpful and i was so happy to be part of something dad has wanted to do for years. you see just for a couple of days dad wasnt 79 he was just 12 years old again. i do hope you all enjoy reading this as i know not all evacuees had a good time and sometimes when you go back its not what you expect but for my dad it all worked out fine and they have exchanged telepone numbers. hope you also like the photos wales. the first pics are of dad and gwin.
 
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these of of dad by the stream that ran at the back of the garden at springfields and talking to the lovely lady who now owns it.
 
Sakura said:
I can't remember the name of this church, I think they did the services at about five in the area..

Frogmore Creek - Main Road through Frogmore - Main Church
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Sakura,

I've just revisited this thread as a result of wales's excellent posting and have had a further look at the image of the church. It's definitely Stokenham Church (St. Michael and All Angels - see its web page). I visited it in the mid-1990s and noted within a couple of large white flags with what appeared to be boat names on them. But I could never find out what they signified. Perhaps something to do with Exercise Tiger, when the Americans took over the area for D-Day landing practice.

Chris
 
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