I would like you to think about a working class family living in Gt.Yarmouth at the outbreak of the 2nd world war, Mother, father & five young children. My older sister, myself aged seven & two younger brothers, were evacuated, another baby sister being too young to leave home.
At first I was billeted with my older sister in Collingham in Nottinghamshire, but lost touch with my brothers. My first recollection. having never lived in the English countryside, was running crying to the lady we were staying with and telling her I had been bitten by the plants in the hedgerows, having never seen a stinging nettle before.
My first short letter to my parents which we were instructed to write by the billeting officer, contained these lines. “The lady & gentleman where we are staying are very nice, but we do not have a toilet. Love Carol.” (For a seven year old, the fact that a small shed with a couple of scrubbed planks over a dark deep hole in the ground, was a toilet, never registered, and I refused it use this, as I was frightened that there were spiders under the seat.)
After a few months due to illness Mrs. T could no longer keep my sister and me, so we had to leave this home, and we were split up. My sister was lucky and was given a permanent home.
Through out the war, I was given short term accommodation, moving from one home after another. The reason for this was as follows. People very soon became aware that if they volunteered to take an evacuee on a short term basis to relieve others, they were then registered as having had an evacuee and were no longer obliged to do so again. In this one village alone, I stayed with ten different families for periods ranging from two weeks to several months, but never anywhere permanently,
I ended, up staying with a Mr. B who was in his eighties. I can only assume there must have been some money involved, as his housekeeper, applied to the authorities on his behalf, omitting to inform them that after preparing his evening meal, she returned to her own home in the village at 5 p.m., which meant that I was living alone at night with this poor old man. I only stayed here for a short period of time, as I could not look into his old eyes, which frightened me.
The authorities were unaware of this situation, until in desperation I ran away one evening & returned to the home of the first family I stayed with. Unfortunately, for the first time in several weeks, they were visiting friends for the evening. I remember knocking on their door, and crying myself to sleep in their covered porch, which is where they found me on their return at l l p.m.
Shortly after this, the billeting officer was informed & I was asked if I would like to stay with Mrs. T's sister in Spalding in Lincolnshire, here I spent lots of happy hours with her elderly mother, who would take me out shopping in the town.
One evening in the blackout, I was holding her hand whilst we were waiting to cross the street, when an army lorry passed & not looking, this lovely old lady stepped into the path of a trailer containing a searchlight which was attached to the lorry. She was killed instantly whilst I was left standing on the pavement.
After this I was moved to Newark, Grantham, Sleeford, Swinderby, Boston, and last of all at the age of twelve to Sibthorpe. This was a small village, where I was the eldest child in the school. There was only one classroom with a pot belly stove on which our teacher, who was in her eighties, used to heat up her lunch. She would nod off frequently. As I was the oldest, I would read to the smaller children. And when not doing this we would darn holes.pile of socks for the Royal Air Force.
At the age of 14 years I returned to live in Gorleston with my parents & immediately was sent to work at Grouts silk mill At the age of 17. I met my future husband, and over the next 55 years, he & I have continued doing what I had become used to. That is, moving from town to town & country to country, spending 12 years in Wellington on the North Island, which is the capital of New Zealand.
Also 11 years in Nelson on the South Island. & now living 13 years on the Gold Coast of Queensland in Australia. The old adage, ‘A rolling stone gathers no moss’ does not ring true my case, as I have had a wonderful life filled with sights & experiences, which now have been set down on paper. This will I hope, encourage the younger generations to be independent.
Do your best to live your life to the full