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Home <> Lifestory Library <> Explore By Location <> <> <> A Tale Of Two London Evacuees




  Contributor: Ray CrawleyView/Add comments



Not many know that even before the declaration of war thousands of mothers with babies and small children, with teachers in charge of school parties, assembled at railway stations in the cities for evacuation.

Evacuation was done in three waves: 1939 - 1940 was the first; then there was a second wave in the autumn of 1940 as the blitz intensified; and a third wave in 1944 with the arrival of the flying bombs.

We went in 1944 with a party from the Holy Family Catholic School at Rosehill in Greater London, wrote Ray Crawley. I was ten years old and my sister Pauline was seven. I still have recollections of the journey and the arrival in Barnsley.

We embarked on the London red double-decker buses, we were on the top deck, but none of us knew where we were going. I remember we kept singing 'Oh we don't know where we're going until we're there !'

We were then put on a train, again knowing nothing of our future. The journey seemed endless and I believe our initial excitement soon turned to tiredness and missing our families.

I can't recall the journey, if there was one, to the hall where we were to stay until people came to collect us. We spent the night at this hall, and in the morning the local people came who wanted to look after a child or two.

I went outside to the washroom to clean my teeth, children were all the time being picked out by the locals.(Just like a dogs home!)

My sister suddenly rushed into the washroom saying, 'Come quick, someone wants us!' These two ladies had been talking to her, apparently one lady wanted to take her away but Pauline wouldn't go.

She said, 'I'm with my brother.' When they saw me, the other lady, a plump lady with a kind face said, 'Oh we can take them both.' So off we went with them. Their names were Mrs Curtis, who had me, and Mrs Gough who had chosen Pauline.

We travelled by taxi to a village called Smithies, a few miles outside of Barnsley. It was a mining village and Mr Curtis was a miner, so was their lodger, a young Scottish lad, a Bevin boy.

They were chosen by ballot to serve as miners instead of serving in the forces. The miners' jobs were critical to ensure the supply of coal during the war.

In the house also were Billy, the 12-year-old son of the Curtis's, and his sister, who was 17 and going out with the Bevin boy.

Pauline, who was with the Goughs who lived next door luckily, was spoilt rotten as she was the only child in the house.

I can remember very well my first night in my new surroundings: as I lay in bed I could hear the sound of trains from Barnsley station, they were shunting I believe, and the sound of the engines made me very homesick as I knew at the other end of the line lay home.

We went to The Holyrood School in Barnsley, so we knew all of our party of evacuees as it was the only Catholic school there. It was very overcrowded and we sat three to a desk in our class.

We went to a church of sorts while we there, we were always collected by a woman and her daughter who were Catholics, and then we had quite a long walk to Mass, which was held in a farmhouse! One of the rooms was converted into a place to worship, with a table as the altar and chairs all round the room.

Once I had settled in I enjoyed my time there, new mates and new places to go. Our mum came up to see us with our youngest sister on one occasion, it was a surprise as I had gone to the pictures with Billy, so when we returned home there was my mum!

I think that was what unsettled Pauline as she was only seven, and she had her eighth birthday there. Soon after the visit she was very homesick and wanted to go home, and as she was going I had to go also.

So we returned to Rosehill while the flying bombs were still coming over and the V2's had yet to come. Talk about out of the frying pan into the fire!

Did you know that the procedure of dealing with the civilian population, in other words, evacuation, began in December 1924! Regular meetings then took place right up to the first evacuation on Sept 1st 1939.

Below are some pictures of the sad moment when the children leave for pastures new, some being told they were going on holiday! Some would see the countryside for the first time, fresh air and better food, so a lot of the deprived children flourished by being evacuated.



An ARP warden chalks up an evacuation.




This picture sums up how the smaller children felt. No mum or dad, didn't know where he was going, a sad sight.

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