A London Evacuee
I was born before the War in 1935. I was born in Shoreditch, where my father managed a pub, "The Mitre Tavern" at 38, Fish Street Hill in the City of London, near the monument to the Fire of London. I went to pre-school at St John Cass Foundation School in Aldgate at the age of 4.
The War started. Caretakers looked after the buildings and properties in King William Street. One of them came into the pub and said to my dad "You'd better come down to my shelter when you close". Afterwards, we went to the building which had a shelter underneath, and were there when the building took a direct hit. There was an iron door to the entrance which was blown in. The firemen had to come down the stairs as the lift was damaged and take us back up to the surface. When we got to the top my mother was in her nightdress, my father was dressed and I had my siren suit on. All the buildings across the road were on fire. The pub was blasted. We had to go to Bank for Monument station. A soldier shot the lock off the station door to open it and we spent the night in the Underground.
We got the bus the next morning and went to Stoke Newington, where we stayed with my aunt. Then I was evacuated to High Wycombe with two other girls and two older people. First I went to a school next door then was sent to another school. The old lady I lived with died shortly afterwards. I then had to stay with an aunt and uncle (Mum's older brother) who lived in Kingston. My aunt wasn't nice to me.
My mother's sister came to visit and took me back to where my mother was living. My father was stationed in Bourne, Cambridgeshire, under canvas, at this time. He found me a place to live there and I went to school in Bourne. Father was then sent to Derbyshire where he arranged for my mother to look after a woman with yellow jaundice and I went to school there. Next, my father was sent abroad but my mother decided to take me home with her to London, back to Stoke Newington, just as the doodlebugs started. One day we were shopping in Stoke Newington High Street when my mother pushed me down to the pavement as a German plane was firing at the street.
In 1945 I got diphtheria and was in Homerton hospital for six weeks. so I missed my scholarship exams. My parents were not allowed to visit.