LETTER OF THE MONTH

Evacuee memories

Dan Todman’s feature on Second World War evacuations (February) reminded me of those times. As a 91-year-old, I well remember my evacuation from Plymouth in April 1940. Plymouth had been late in evacuating youngsters, so many of us experienced six months of the Blitz. However, my mother was pregnant, so it was decided that we would self-evacuate to the Welsh border town of Middletown, where my mother had a friend she had worked with in her early 20s.

As an eight-year-old, I was sent to the local school, which consisted of mostly farmers’ children. After being asked by the teachers to relate my experiences, I was considered posh – and then immediately liked by the girls but hated by the boys, who chose to beat me up going to and from school.

This continued even at playtime, so much so that I was put in the girls’ playground. Eventually, in mid-June, I was rescued by my uncle coming to take me to his home in Dudley, where I spent the summer. During this time, my father had found a cottage in the Dartmoor village of Mary Tavy, and after my sister was born at Welshpool, we returned to live on the Moors for two years. One can say that it was a very vivid memory!