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Don McDouall was evacuated from London during World War II when he was five years old. When the war ended nobody came to take him home and he was sent to 'Poundcroft', a children's home in the village of East Hanney.
It was a miserable day in late September 1945 when us three kids said goodbye to our friend, Matron at Poundcroft children's home. We got into a small black Ford car with a stern woman dressed like a man! Later we arrived at our new home, the infamous 'Homestead'.
It was still raining as the three of us stepped from the back seat of the matron's car. We followed her into the large dreary looking house carrying our few possessions. We were met by the hostile stares of some fifteen or so other 'inmates'.
The 'Homestead' was a very large house that stood in a big, very untidy garden. It was one of a number of private dwellings that had been built on a private estate a mile from Bourne End. The house was in a very run down state. It stood just on the other side of a bridge that crossed what must have been a man-made watercourse and floods were a common occurrence.
In front of the 'Homestead' was a high straggly Laurel hedge that hid the lower story of the house from view. Down the far end was a very smelly cesspool. Most times it was overflowing.
Much of the house was out of bounds to us. We had the use of a very large, high ceiling room with a long trestle table, running the full length of the room, covered with green linoleum and two rows of backless wooden benches. The linoleum had numerous holes along its length, carved by years of digging with countless spoons. At the far end was a fireplace, which was always boarded up.
Along the inner wall was a set of pigeon holes that served as places where you could leave the few personal effects you might have. Nearer the door was a bookcase containing a few books, all of which were tattered and torn. Opposite the fireplace was a long shelf that held everyone's shoes. The floor was tiled and very cold on your feet.
This room was where we ate, read books and played games such as Ludo or snakes and ladders. There were no pictures or toys in the room.
Outside the room was a vast hall with a massive staircase leading up to a large landing. Us boys were not allowed to use the front stairs. To the left of the hallway was Matrons private quarters. To the right of the boys room was a passageway that gave access to two toilets, one for staff, one for the boys. A games room was behind the Matrons quarters, which was only for special occasions. It contained a darts board, a table tennis table and a billiards table.
Upstairs there were six rooms but I only ever entered three of them. Our room was immense and held nine beds, each with a horse hair or coir mattress over which lay a cold rubber sheet. Two sheets and two blue blankets was your allotted bed clothing whatever the weather was like. Further along the passage were two more dormitories practically identical to this one.
There was a large bathroom which contained a white enameled bath, sink complete with hot and cold taps and a lavatory bowl, without a seat. We were not allowed to use the toilet or the sink. We did use the bath every Friday night. Bath water was not allowed to be more then seven inches in depth and at least four children had to bathe in the same water. The eldest was first and the youngest last.
The garden covered about an acre of land but most of it was out of bounds. There were a couple of small sheds and a chicken run with about twenty laying hens. There was a hard tennis court surrounded by a high rusty wire fence but it was only used to play football on. Beyond this was a tangle of blackberry briars and ancient apple trees and a derelict boat house.
The 'Homestead' was run by Matron and a woman called Rene, (pronounced Reen). It was a government institution housing boys that nobody really wanted or their relations were too busy with the war effort. Some were orphans, but most had at least a mother or a father.
During the war there had been up to some thirty boys living there. When I arrived with Yorky and Bertie there were about fifteen other boys with ages ranging from around seven to fourteen. It was run on very strict lines and all boys took turns on a rota system to cook, clean and carry out the tasks required to keep things as Matron required. Rene oversaw the cooking and cleaning and Matron managed the rest.
Breakfast was always a plate of stodgy porridge with milk and salt, except for Sundays when we got two boiled eggs each and two slices of toast.
The midday meal on weekdays was a cooked meal, which was always the same for each day of the week. Mondays was cold meat with boiled potato and carrot. Wednesday meal was always macaroni cheese and the Sunday meal was always a large bunch of watercress! Pudding was usually a rice or tapioca milk pudding with rhubarb or stewed plums or prunes.
Evening meal was always the same day in and day out - four slices of bread and jam or treacle and a slice of cake. We each got an apple to take to school. The food was very mundane but you didn't go hungry.
We went to bed exactly at seven thirty every night and there was no talking after lights out. We got up at six am every day and the first chore was to make your bed. If you had wet the bed you took the sheets to the washhouse and soaked them with every body else's and put dry sheets back on your bed. The was no punishment for wetting the bed.
After dressing and washing your face you attended to your chores for the day. It might be cleaning shoes, or helping cook the porridge, or feeding the chicken. At seven you ate your porridge and then had morning prayers, perhaps listening to the Matron telling all and sundry how 'bad' you had been the previous day and what your punishment was going to be later on.
You left for school at precisely am, came home from school at midday, ate a hurried dinner and returned to school. You were expected to be back home by 4 pm and if you were late you could expect the cane. More chores were carried out until 5.30 pm. You then washed and changed into your pyjama's. After teatime you could read or play a table game until 7.30 pm, that's if you were not up for punishment for your days misdeeds.
Punishment was always corporal. For small misdemeanor's, you got the cane on your open hand. Other more serious crimes got you the cane on the back of your legs or a leather belt across your bare buttocks. Punishment was given out like one would give out the next day's chores, a cold calculated act.
All boys were in bed by 7.30pm and lights were turned out at 8pm. If caught talking after lights out you could expect to have to stand on the front landing until Matron went to bed. This was very uncomfortable in the wintertime as all you wore were your pyjama's. Next day you also got caned.
Punishment was given for talking at mealtimes, being late home from school, fighting and swearing, not standing up if the Matron entered the room, not doing your chores properly and even slouching!
We all wore the same uniform which varied little from summer to winter. A blue cotton collarless shirt (a separate collar was worn on Sundays to church). A pair of underpants, an itchy woolen vest, a gray v-necked long sleeved jumper and gray tweedy type short trousers, woolen socks and lace up boots. None of these clothes had pockets (pockets were not allowed). The clothes were changed each Sunday.
All clothes were pooled, you didn't own any and on Sundays you just found some that fitted! You wore the same boots until they wore out or you grew out of them then you got another hand me down pair. Owning toys was not an option in fact owning anything was rare indeed.
On Sundays we went to church very early. There was a lot of pomp and swinging of an incense receptacle. We wore a tie and a collar and the vicar or priest glared down at you from the pulpit.
On our return to the home we would all be given a large dose of 'Senna pods'! This terrible purgative would give you shocking stomachache so you removed your trousers and retreated to the lavatory where for some two or more hours you would void everything that was in your intestines. We would then munch on the Sunday dinner of watercress.
Matron was a short lady with dark hair cut in what was known as the 'Eaton' style. She wore horn rimmed spectacles and no makeup and was in her forties. Her mannerisms were masculine. There was no outward sign that she felt anything towards her charges.
You could not talk to her or confide in anyway, she was very aloof. I cannot remember her ever actually talking to me directly. You always knew when Matron was coming as she walked with a clomp! She had one leg shorter then the other and wore a thick-soled shoe on that foot. Rene was much younger, possibly about thirty years of age. She was approachable, but you soon learnt not to confide in her as she told all to the Matron.
School was a government school right in the middle of the town. I remember very little about this school other than I was in a class in which the male teacher dealt out punishment to all and sundry with a bamboo cane.
One humorous incident I can recall in great detail. I got about ten cane cuts for it but at the time it was worth all the pain. A girl monitor was delivering all the refurbished inkwells and she had them all on a tray. I stuck my leg out as she passed on by and the inkwells sailed through the air. It was indeed a fine sight!
Matron and the school never seemed to notice that many of us played truant. I hated woodwork class. The class was taken at a different school and if I attended I would take a short cut by crossing some chalk hills. But it was rare for me to attend and I normally spent each Friday afternoon getting covered in wet chalk from playing in an abandoned chalk quarry. Towards the end of my stay at the Homestead it was rare for me to go to school at all.
I worked each Friday night and Saturday morning in a butchers shop making sausages! I quite liked the job. I never saw any pay but all the kids who had a town job contributed in total to the pocket money for all the other kids. All of us got sixpence a week pocket money. We could spend five of these pennies on our sweet ration and the other penny went into the church coffers on Sunday morning.
The one positive aspect of living at the Homestead was that each Saturday afternoon you got to go to the matinee at the local picture house. We never paid but had to sit in the front row, so I saw many of my first movies by looking straight up in the air, it use to give me a stiff neck.
Every now and then we would all be let out to go on a rampage. Sometimes we crossed the river Thames via a public punt ferry. Other times we crossed by using the nearby railway bridge. This latter method was fraught with danger as if a train happened along while you were on the bridge there was nowhere to go except to swing on the ironwork underneath!
Sometimes we stayed on our side of the river. Along from the local yacht club, pleasure craft were tied up. We use to break into these boats and steal all manner of items. I can remember having a pair of binoculars that I threw in the river, after playing with them for a while. Other kids would steal tools, cameras or kitchen items all of which would be thrown in the river at the end of the day.
A nearby town was called Marlow. There was a railway spur on which a small locomotive pulled one way then shunted two or three carriages the other way. On foggy days we use to drag logs and such onto the track to try to derail this train.
A common pastime for all kids, even the locals, was to put copper coins on the rails to get them flattened. This even took place in the main street of Bourne End as the trains crossed the main road. I never got to know Bourne End very well. Grownups in town tolerated us but we fought the local town kids resulting in much blood and bruising.
We had a battle cry and we sang it with gusto and a certain amount of defiance.
We are the Homestead boys,
We make a deal of a noise,
We know our manners,
We spend our tanners,
We are respected wherever we go.
When we are walking down the broadway line doors and windows open wide.
You should hear the sergeant shout...
'Put that ruddy Woodbine out'
We are the` Homestead boys.
About the summertime of 1946 Bertie got very sick and I never saw him again. Yorky's dad came and got him just before the Christmas of 1946. He gave me his cherished Wimbledon speedway badge and a book with 'Up the Dons' on the cover.
By mid 1946 there were only about eight of us left in the home. By the start of January of 1947 there were two brothers and myself left and by the end of January I was the last boy in the home.
My guardians, the London County Council, gave me a choice, not much of a choice! Go to another home in London or go back to live with the Lyford's! I had had a gutful of homes. I remembered the freedom of living in East Hanney, so I picked the latter.
Don McDouall, Australia, 2001
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