The K M Links Game - May 2024 Week 2
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My Mum grew up in the West Riding of Yorkshire on a hill farm, during WW11 children were evacuated from Leeds and they went to Mum's school, Castle Hill, Todmorden, and one of the girls was a black child, the very first black person any of the other children had ever seen, she had a very distinctive name, which my Mum remembered all her life, Jubilee!!!!
At the age of nine, along with countless other bemused kids I became an evacuee.
Strangely, thinking about it now, it did not seem anything out of the ordinary.
(I think kids accept whatever occurs as the norm).
It began with Mum making rucksacks out of pillowcases for the four of us who were
heading into the great unknown.
Festooned with pillowcase, sorry, rucksack, gas mask, packed lunch, (which was
devoured before we even got on the train), a large luggage label with our name and
details, fastened to our lapels, and clutching an assortment of favorite teddy-bears,
dollies, and, for the boys, favorite catapults, pocket knives, and pea-shooters.
(If we met up with any Germans, then the general consensus was �Take one with
you�).
We began our journey from our school, and my first memory was me and my mates on
the top deck, dropping items onto the conductor�s cap as he fought to herd sixty odd
east end kids onto his bus.
In due course we arrived at the station. Hundreds of milling kids, several harassed
pin-stripes with clip-boards, and a few despairing teachers who could have used the
services of a dozen sheep dogs.
Once on the train we were instructed in the �rules of engagement�.
1. Do not attempt to open the doors at any time.
2. Do not lean out of the windows. (Some hopes)!!. followed by graphic tales of
decapitated miscreants.
3. A warning not to eat chocolate as it would make us thirsty. Received in a
disbelieving silence. (When was the last time we had chocolate??).
4. And to behave like little soldiers. (Did these people think we were kids)??
Most of the carriages were non-corridor, so toilet needs were solved by utilizing the
windows. To the dismay of the �vaccies� further down the train.
After a journey that must have taken about six hours we arrived at a station.
<
Strangely, thinking about it now, it did not seem anything out of the ordinary.
(I think kids accept whatever occurs as the norm).
It began with Mum making rucksacks out of pillowcases for the four of us who were
heading into the great unknown.
Festooned with pillowcase, sorry, rucksack, gas mask, packed lunch, (which was
devoured before we even got on the train), a large luggage label with our name and
details, fastened to our lapels, and clutching an assortment of favorite teddy-bears,
dollies, and, for the boys, favorite catapults, pocket knives, and pea-shooters.
(If we met up with any Germans, then the general consensus was �Take one with
you�).
We began our journey from our school, and my first memory was me and my mates on
the top deck, dropping items onto the conductor�s cap as he fought to herd sixty odd
east end kids onto his bus.
In due course we arrived at the station. Hundreds of milling kids, several harassed
pin-stripes with clip-boards, and a few despairing teachers who could have used the
services of a dozen sheep dogs.
Once on the train we were instructed in the �rules of engagement�.
1. Do not attempt to open the doors at any time.
2. Do not lean out of the windows. (Some hopes)!!. followed by graphic tales of
decapitated miscreants.
3. A warning not to eat chocolate as it would make us thirsty. Received in a
disbelieving silence. (When was the last time we had chocolate??).
4. And to behave like little soldiers. (Did these people think we were kids)??
Most of the carriages were non-corridor, so toilet needs were solved by utilizing the
windows. To the dismay of the �vaccies� further down the train.
After a journey that must have taken about six hours we arrived at a station.
<
Imagine it, Hundreds of kids between six and twelve years old, Twice that number of
white eyes staring out of blackened faces. All trains were steam. (And so much for rule
number two).
Half of us dying for a drink and the other half busting for the toilet.
We were seated at rows of tables and issued with sandwiches, and a drink of milk.
Each of us was given a card to fill in when we were finally billeted, to post home with
details of our new address.
We were then loaded aboard a fleet of coaches and dispersed around the countryside.
Our coach ended up at a village school where a crowd of strangers looked us over and
selected the most presentable of us. (A bit like Battersea dog�s home). But,
considering our condition, there was not a lot to choose between us.
My brother and myself being valued as a pair. (rather like antique vases), were whisked
away to be deposited with the local Blacksmith.
In this we were most fortunate. Mr. and Mrs. P----, and their daughter Josie, received
us with open arms, exclaiming �Oh you poor little toads�. And insisted we have
something to eat and drink before we even had a wash.
This was the beginning of some of the happiest years of my life.
white eyes staring out of blackened faces. All trains were steam. (And so much for rule
number two).
Half of us dying for a drink and the other half busting for the toilet.
We were seated at rows of tables and issued with sandwiches, and a drink of milk.
Each of us was given a card to fill in when we were finally billeted, to post home with
details of our new address.
We were then loaded aboard a fleet of coaches and dispersed around the countryside.
Our coach ended up at a village school where a crowd of strangers looked us over and
selected the most presentable of us. (A bit like Battersea dog�s home). But,
considering our condition, there was not a lot to choose between us.
My brother and myself being valued as a pair. (rather like antique vases), were whisked
away to be deposited with the local Blacksmith.
In this we were most fortunate. Mr. and Mrs. P----, and their daughter Josie, received
us with open arms, exclaiming �Oh you poor little toads�. And insisted we have
something to eat and drink before we even had a wash.
This was the beginning of some of the happiest years of my life.
My first impression of the P---- family was, these people are straight out of a story
book.
The two ladies both looked the same. Short, round, smiling and rosy. Like a couple of
cottage loaves.
Mr. P---- was stocky, elderly and sported a magnificent �old bill � mustache, and was
dressed in corduroy trousers, a collar-less shirt with rolled-up sleeves, and had the
most pronounced veins on his arms that I had ever seen.
After feeding us Mrs. P---- hauled out a Hip bath. This was a wonderful contraption
that looked like an armchair full of water. We were promptly dumped in and
decontaminated, losing a couple of pounds of grime each.
Mrs. P---- had everything organized, (This was to be true of our entire stay).
We were escorted to a small room and placed in the largest, softest bed ever.
You would expect us to be too wound-up to sleep, but no. The next thing we knew
was waking to the ringing of the anvil. This is still one of the most evocative sounds I
know.
A bowl of warm water, soap and flannel was placed at our disposal. �But we had a
bath last night� we protested. �And you will have a wash this morning�, came the
reply.
book.
The two ladies both looked the same. Short, round, smiling and rosy. Like a couple of
cottage loaves.
Mr. P---- was stocky, elderly and sported a magnificent �old bill � mustache, and was
dressed in corduroy trousers, a collar-less shirt with rolled-up sleeves, and had the
most pronounced veins on his arms that I had ever seen.
After feeding us Mrs. P---- hauled out a Hip bath. This was a wonderful contraption
that looked like an armchair full of water. We were promptly dumped in and
decontaminated, losing a couple of pounds of grime each.
Mrs. P---- had everything organized, (This was to be true of our entire stay).
We were escorted to a small room and placed in the largest, softest bed ever.
You would expect us to be too wound-up to sleep, but no. The next thing we knew
was waking to the ringing of the anvil. This is still one of the most evocative sounds I
know.
A bowl of warm water, soap and flannel was placed at our disposal. �But we had a
bath last night� we protested. �And you will have a wash this morning�, came the
reply.
The issue was resolved by the smell of breakfast. After submitting to a quick wash we
sat down to eat. Wonder of wonders, we saw before us a whole boiled egg each,
complete with toast soldiers. This when the ration was one egg a month. This was
followed by more toast with home made jam, (which they persisted in calling jelly).
Mrs. P---- and Josie, Pickled, preserved and cured all their own provisions. And
anything that couldn�t be stored such as fruit, berries ETC. was often turned into wine.
They were marvelous, other than the big black kettle which was boiled up in the forge,
all the cooking was done on an oil stove. (A large oven resting on two oil lamps).
It may seem unbelievable, but I have seen them cook an entire Christmas dinner
including a ten pound turkey in this contraption.
After breakfast we were shown around the place. Again, it was like something out of a
storybook. The house and forge were completely circled by roads, just like an island.
Just across the road was half-acre, this was the P----�s field and contained apple trees,
pear trees, chickens, (which the P----s persisted were called fowls, chickens being little
fluffy yellow things), geese, ducks, a turkey and even a pig in a pen.
sat down to eat. Wonder of wonders, we saw before us a whole boiled egg each,
complete with toast soldiers. This when the ration was one egg a month. This was
followed by more toast with home made jam, (which they persisted in calling jelly).
Mrs. P---- and Josie, Pickled, preserved and cured all their own provisions. And
anything that couldn�t be stored such as fruit, berries ETC. was often turned into wine.
They were marvelous, other than the big black kettle which was boiled up in the forge,
all the cooking was done on an oil stove. (A large oven resting on two oil lamps).
It may seem unbelievable, but I have seen them cook an entire Christmas dinner
including a ten pound turkey in this contraption.
After breakfast we were shown around the place. Again, it was like something out of a
storybook. The house and forge were completely circled by roads, just like an island.
Just across the road was half-acre, this was the P----�s field and contained apple trees,
pear trees, chickens, (which the P----s persisted were called fowls, chickens being little
fluffy yellow things), geese, ducks, a turkey and even a pig in a pen.
The P---- family were self sufficient. If something was required for a meal then they
picked it, dug it up, killed it, or in the last extreme raided their reserves.
During our time there we ate some really exotic victuals. Coney, (Rabbits were the
baby ones) either baked, or in a stew, my brother and myself fighting over who got the
head. This was a delicacy, a sharp rap with the handle of a knife and the skull would
split in two revealing the delicious brain.
Another meal was starling pie. The trick to catching starlings was to fix a ladder in a
tree, wait for the birds to roost and then fire a twelve bore up the ladder.
The only time I saw Mrs. P---- flummoxed was the time we brought back a load of
limpets, (A type of shellfish). She decided to attempt a limpet pie. When it came out of
the oven, the pie crust was the usual golden brown, lovely. But cutting the crust
released a green cloud of steam and the smell of the shore at low tide.
The pie was consigned to Half-acre, and the fowls sensing a meal came running up,
took a quick look, and even they wouldn�t touch it.
>*
Sorry it goes on a bit. But you did ask.
Chadad
picked it, dug it up, killed it, or in the last extreme raided their reserves.
During our time there we ate some really exotic victuals. Coney, (Rabbits were the
baby ones) either baked, or in a stew, my brother and myself fighting over who got the
head. This was a delicacy, a sharp rap with the handle of a knife and the skull would
split in two revealing the delicious brain.
Another meal was starling pie. The trick to catching starlings was to fix a ladder in a
tree, wait for the birds to roost and then fire a twelve bore up the ladder.
The only time I saw Mrs. P---- flummoxed was the time we brought back a load of
limpets, (A type of shellfish). She decided to attempt a limpet pie. When it came out of
the oven, the pie crust was the usual golden brown, lovely. But cutting the crust
released a green cloud of steam and the smell of the shore at low tide.
The pie was consigned to Half-acre, and the fowls sensing a meal came running up,
took a quick look, and even they wouldn�t touch it.
>*
Sorry it goes on a bit. But you did ask.
Chadad
thankyou all for you all for your stories. chadad you seem to have a has a great time. It was lovely when you said
"This was the beginning of some of the happiest years of my life." as ive heard so many horrible stories its lovely to hear that some found it good. This will be really useful for my corsework thankyou x
"This was the beginning of some of the happiest years of my life." as ive heard so many horrible stories its lovely to hear that some found it good. This will be really useful for my corsework thankyou x
Hi Chaddad, I'm not involved with any coursework but I have to tell you how much I enjoyed reading about your evacuation. I was a young teenager whenwar broke out and the family moved to the country after a terrible blitz. I was well into my 20's before we moved back. It was a wonderful time, Young farmer's evenings barn dances, showbands- great music. I wouldn't have missed it for the world!
Good luck with your course Nenny!
Good luck with your course Nenny!
I am too young to have been evacuated but I can remember a few stories from my parents. My mother was a schoolgirl in Oxford which was not really bombed as all. Her mother was very ill (dieing of Breast Cancer) so they were not forced to take any evacuees, I some areas it was compulsory. Late one evening a woman came with two small children as there was nowhere else for then. They only stayed a few days until onother place was found for them. My mother's father was a groundsman at a university collage and he let the evacuees play on the cricket pitch as long as they kept off the wicket. they brought there own teachers and used an old potato store belonging to a grocer caller Hicks, so it was known as St Hicks.
My father worked on airfields all over the country and in one place he was put up in a farm house with a widow and her son who had an evacuee from a large city. He was very frightened of the dark as before the war it had never been dark at night where he lived. The woman and her son were not cruel to the evacuee but did not have any time for him. As my father was only about 18 he got on well with him and even took him home to his parent in Oxford.
When I was an appentice at British Layland in Oxford there was an Engineer who had come as an evacuee to a nearby village. For some reason he never whent back to his family and stayed with his host family after the war.
My father worked on airfields all over the country and in one place he was put up in a farm house with a widow and her son who had an evacuee from a large city. He was very frightened of the dark as before the war it had never been dark at night where he lived. The woman and her son were not cruel to the evacuee but did not have any time for him. As my father was only about 18 he got on well with him and even took him home to his parent in Oxford.
When I was an appentice at British Layland in Oxford there was an Engineer who had come as an evacuee to a nearby village. For some reason he never whent back to his family and stayed with his host family after the war.
The village school was never intended for the volume of pupils that descended upon it in 1939/40.
Previously a slumbering rural seat of learning, it was suddenly boosted into a hive of activity by the influx of a
horde of boisterous �vaccies�.
In addition to this, many new functions and subjects had to be introduced and many old ones discarded.
For a start, the number of pupils doubled overnight, and the authorities needed to succeed in squeezing a Quart
into a pint pot.
This was solved by dividing the school hall into three sections by means of movable screens. These screens
were only six feet high, and one class could be heard chanting their times-tables, another class be reading poetry
aloud, and a third practicing mental arithmetic.
You may be asking yourself, �How can mental arithmetic create a noise� ???.
Well, Our teacher�s method of instruction was to draw the numbers zero to nine on the blackboard, rather like a
dartboard. Then, the numbers would be tapped with a ruler. One rap would mean add, two raps mean subtract,
three mean divide and four mean multiply.
Every so often the woodpecker impersonation would stop and some poor unfortunate was singled out to give
the total. We vaccies soon cottoned on to the fact that hand raisers were never called upon to give the answer.
And the teacher became surprised with our sudden grasp of the subject. But not for long. At the next waving of
hands and cries of �Me Sir, or Me Miss�, the ruler pointed firmly at the figure of one of our more obvious
thickos, hand waving like mad. Not having the sense to ask to leave the room, or make even a wild guess, he
blurted out � I don�t know�. And was dealt with the following morning at assembly. As a result of this, the
show of hands at each total dropped dramatically.
Previously a slumbering rural seat of learning, it was suddenly boosted into a hive of activity by the influx of a
horde of boisterous �vaccies�.
In addition to this, many new functions and subjects had to be introduced and many old ones discarded.
For a start, the number of pupils doubled overnight, and the authorities needed to succeed in squeezing a Quart
into a pint pot.
This was solved by dividing the school hall into three sections by means of movable screens. These screens
were only six feet high, and one class could be heard chanting their times-tables, another class be reading poetry
aloud, and a third practicing mental arithmetic.
You may be asking yourself, �How can mental arithmetic create a noise� ???.
Well, Our teacher�s method of instruction was to draw the numbers zero to nine on the blackboard, rather like a
dartboard. Then, the numbers would be tapped with a ruler. One rap would mean add, two raps mean subtract,
three mean divide and four mean multiply.
Every so often the woodpecker impersonation would stop and some poor unfortunate was singled out to give
the total. We vaccies soon cottoned on to the fact that hand raisers were never called upon to give the answer.
And the teacher became surprised with our sudden grasp of the subject. But not for long. At the next waving of
hands and cries of �Me Sir, or Me Miss�, the ruler pointed firmly at the figure of one of our more obvious
thickos, hand waving like mad. Not having the sense to ask to leave the room, or make even a wild guess, he
blurted out � I don�t know�. And was dealt with the following morning at assembly. As a result of this, the
show of hands at each total dropped dramatically.
With all these different lessons taking place at the same time, the cacophony raised enabled us pupils to focus
on a subject and concentrate wonderfully.
The school day started with a two mile walk to school. The first lesson of the day being assembly. This
consisted of pushing back the screens, thus making one large class, where morning prayers, a hymn and a short
sermon were conducted. This being followed by any announcements, admonishments, and sentences for
miscreants. Unlike the whimps of today we paid for any misdemeanors, usually with the seat of our pants and in
public.
At ten o�clock we had a break and were let loose in the school playground. Classes were mixed, (both boys and
girls), but playtime was segregated, the boys had their playground and the girls theirs.
That first break we sat on the low parapet that surrounded the school and tucked into the rather generous lunch
packed by Mrs. P---- . At dinner time we discovered why our snack had been so generous. It was our dinner.
Remember, we were used to having a sandwich at ten and going home for dinner. But this was a whole new
world, this being demonstrated by Jack heading for home and dinner, and my having to cart him kicking and
yelling back to the school yard. As I may have mentioned before, Jack had a certain way with words, and it was
a good thing the cockney accent made most of them unintelligible.
Shock followed upon shock, OK. we knew that the first whistle meant freezing into immobility and the second
whistle meant forming up into classes. This was standard practice. What we did not know was, we had to stand
in line with our hands palm up and then turn them over as the teacher inspected them for cleanliness.
Being normal (Scruffy) kids, and unaware of this practice, us vaccies failed, were reprimanded and told not to
let it happen again.
on a subject and concentrate wonderfully.
The school day started with a two mile walk to school. The first lesson of the day being assembly. This
consisted of pushing back the screens, thus making one large class, where morning prayers, a hymn and a short
sermon were conducted. This being followed by any announcements, admonishments, and sentences for
miscreants. Unlike the whimps of today we paid for any misdemeanors, usually with the seat of our pants and in
public.
At ten o�clock we had a break and were let loose in the school playground. Classes were mixed, (both boys and
girls), but playtime was segregated, the boys had their playground and the girls theirs.
That first break we sat on the low parapet that surrounded the school and tucked into the rather generous lunch
packed by Mrs. P---- . At dinner time we discovered why our snack had been so generous. It was our dinner.
Remember, we were used to having a sandwich at ten and going home for dinner. But this was a whole new
world, this being demonstrated by Jack heading for home and dinner, and my having to cart him kicking and
yelling back to the school yard. As I may have mentioned before, Jack had a certain way with words, and it was
a good thing the cockney accent made most of them unintelligible.
Shock followed upon shock, OK. we knew that the first whistle meant freezing into immobility and the second
whistle meant forming up into classes. This was standard practice. What we did not know was, we had to stand
in line with our hands palm up and then turn them over as the teacher inspected them for cleanliness.
Being normal (Scruffy) kids, and unaware of this practice, us vaccies failed, were reprimanded and told not to
let it happen again.
In addition to the three Rs, there were a number of lessons unknown to us city kids. Yes we were used to
woodwork ETC. but here we suddenly became embroiled in gardening, bee-keeping, stoking, (there were no
janitors) and the whole school was heated (sort of) by pot bellied stoves. If you were near the stove you got
roasted, and if you were more than a couple of feet away then you froze.
Another upheaval to the schools tranquillity was the introduction of school dinners. Obviously these could not
be eaten while sitting on a wall, so a dining hall had to be constructed. Who had to build it?, that�s right, us.
A whole new class was devised, �construction�. We didn�t have to actually build the dining hall, just convert an
old garage situated across the road from the school. After filling in the inspection pit and leveling the floor all
we had to do was make tables and benches. This posed no problem, and was dealt with by the woodwork class.
Right. We now had a dining hall, furniture, utensils, a rota of mums to do the cooking and plenty of girl power
to help wash up and prepare the vegetables. �Domestic science�. What was missing?, you�ve got it, Vegetables.
Again, this was solved by expanding the one hour a week gardening lesson into a two afternoon allotment
lesson. We created an allotment at the other end of the village. In it we sowed, reaped and gathered a large
percentage of the food eaten at the school dinners. In addition to the allotment one of the kids dads donated a
couple of strips in his potato field. It being common practice for families to sow their own row of potatoes in a
communal potato field. A potato would be cut into several pieces, each portion containing an eye, and dibbed
(planted) in a row. Then earth would be heaped up to cover them, forming a ridge. And each chunk of spud
would grow into a potato plant.
One afternoon I was dispatched back to the school to bring a sack of soot to be dug into the ground, something
to do with slugs. I found the soot in the bicycle shed, slung it over my shoulder and made my way back to the
allotment. Well how was I supposed to know the bloomin sack was porous? From the front all was normal, (just
grimy). But from the back, that was a horse of a different colour. BLACK.
>*
Again, Sorry if I seem to be going on a bit.
But you did ask. LOL
Chadad.
to do with slugs. I found the soot in the bicycle shed, slung it over my shoulder and made my way back to the
allotment. Well how was I supposed to know the bloomin sack was porous? From the front all was normal, (just
grimy). But from the back, that was a horse of a different colour. BLACK.
>*
Again, Sorry if I seem to be going on a bit.
But you did ask. LOL
Chadad.
Chadad I can't believe how great your reply is!
my whole corsework will be made up using your sources!
thank you so much! it's been great hearing your story, you must have spent some time writing that for me! thanks
Thank you everyone else that replied aswell,
ER im so glad you had a good time and Colin cheers for telling me your parents story, theres alot of useful info i didn't know in there!
Thanks everyone xx
my whole corsework will be made up using your sources!
thank you so much! it's been great hearing your story, you must have spent some time writing that for me! thanks
Thank you everyone else that replied aswell,
ER im so glad you had a good time and Colin cheers for telling me your parents story, theres alot of useful info i didn't know in there!
Thanks everyone xx
-- answer removed --
what a wonderful story, Chadad.
nennyc, this is a good background read if your library has it (if not it will cost you 1p plus postage):
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Day-They-Took-Children -Illustrated/dp/0747506639/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8& s=books&qid=1224624582&sr=1-2
nennyc, this is a good background read if your library has it (if not it will cost you 1p plus postage):
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Day-They-Took-Children -Illustrated/dp/0747506639/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8& s=books&qid=1224624582&sr=1-2
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