What It's Like To Be Evacuated From London

There was a lot of talk about war on the radio, and it was very frightening to find out what war could do. The children would have to be sent away for their own safety.

At the time, I was nine years old and living in London with my mum and dad, my sisters Ann (8), Violet (10), Nel (3), and my baby brother Albert.

A letter arrived telling my parents when the children would be evacuated. All the clothes that we were to take with us had to be labelled with our names.

One day in September 1939, my parents, along with lots of other parents and children, took my sisters and me to Fenchurch Street Station. We had to wait for a special train to take us to the country. Two of the London teachers were evacuated with us to help teach at the village school.

The train stopped at Brackley, and I thought 'this is it,' but all the children had to board a coach that took us to King's Sutton, a village just outside Banbury.

My sister Ann was very quiet, my sister Violet didn't seem to care, and I cried!

The coach arrived at the village school, and the lady who kept the village post office was there as a billeting officer. We were all told to sit on the floor, and she explained why we had been sent to the country—because it was safer, as there were no bombs like in London. This worried me because my mum and dad were still in London. Surely it wasn't safe for them either?

People from the village who were willing to take evacuees came to the school. They had already stated how many children they had room for—they had to choose boys or girls depending on whether they had boys or girls of their own, as we would have to share their bedrooms.

When it was our turn to be picked, we went to three different homes in the village to stay with three different families. At this point, we all cried because we didn't want to be split up. We had never been separated before, and we had never been away from home before.

We were so upset that the lady who chose my sister Ann said we could all stay with her for a couple of weeks, just until we got used to being away from home and had settled into the village. At the end of two weeks, the lady was sad to see me leave, but I moved in with a couple I called Aunt Kate and Uncle George. They had two grown-up sons, John in the army and Albert in the navy. My sister Ann stayed with an elderly couple that had grown-up children living away from home too. My sister Violet went to stay with a lady that had a little boy but was sent back home to London after about a year because she was too much of a handful!

My dad visited whenever he could—my mum stayed at home in London to look after my younger brother and sister. Dad brought our favourite toys with him, as there hadn't been enough room in our suitcase when we were evacuated.

At Christmas, Aunt Kate and Uncle George bought me a present with a postal order sent from home, and we celebrated as best we could under the circumstances.

I met John and Albert when they came home on leave. Soon after, John was discharged from the army because he was at Dunkirk, and it was considered the survivors had suffered such a horrific ordeal that they were allowed to leave the army and go home. He went back to work on the railway with his dad.

The village school had two classes and three classes of mixed junior and senior children. There was also a large room where two classes were held at the same time. Both teachers would be talking at once, and if the lesson in the other class was more interesting than my own, I would listen to it and my teacher would tell me off!

It was very quiet in the country, and it was the first time I had ever seen a farm or farm animals. Farm workers were scarce because the men had gone to fight in the war, so during the summer term, all the children took turns to have one week off school and go to help bring in the crops, e.g., digging up potatoes. We got paid for it too! Also, at school, we knitted scarves, hats, and jumpers for the troops. Whist drives and dances were held to raise money for the Red Cross/Wings for Victory, etc., and there were Army, Navy, and Air Force 'weeks' to raise money as well.

I left school at the end of the summer term when I was fourteen, but I didn't go back to London straight away. When the children went back to school in September, I had to help out until my train ticket was sorted out in October.

I had mixed feelings when I left Aunt Kate and Uncle George. It was nice to be going home, but I had lived with them for five years, so it was almost as bad as being evacuated in the first place.

When I got back to London, the traffic scared me after the peace and quiet of the countryside. What's more, I had two brothers and a sister that I'd never met before.

I kept in touch with Aunt Kate and Uncle George, first by letter and later on, I visited them every year until they died. I still keep in touch with John's wife Muriel, but sadly John died about four years ago, aged eighty-nine. Until a few years ago, I used to visit King's Sutton occasionally. Most of it looks similar, although there have been a few changes—mainly the land around it has been built on.

By Mrs. C. Fyles, who moved from London and has lived in Slough since 1957.
Charlotte
Ann and Violet Cates
(Mrs. C. Fyles: 1930-2013)
Originally written in 1993. Updated in 2006.