Evacuees

Wednesday should have been Historyetc, but it wasn’t. It could have been local HE group sports day but it was too hot to face the journey and we needed a day at home by then really, anyway. So it was a rest day, and a catching up on washing day, and a doing normal things at home day – and it was very good 😀

It was still choir, though, so we left A and J at home (with Bob just around the corner on his way back from work) and 6 and L got some work done while K sang, then we did some shopping (needed things for packed lunch next day as well as picking up salad for tea) and ate our tea in the churchyard of the Round Church before the girls’ choir. K worked while they sang and then we drove home planning what they could all wear to be at least vaguely in character as WWII evacuees.

K’s friend KH came for a sleepover so that he could come with us on Thursday to Stibbington, so there were six children to get up and at ’em in the morning, but fortunately he had his clothes, gas mask box and lunch all with him, so no extra hassle at all. Bob and I, having forgotten about the need for gas mask boxes until the last minute, were up late on Wednesday evening emptying boxes from the shelves so we could reshape them as gas mask boxes, printing off and filling in labels and thinking about how we could package lunch without using any plastic. Fun!

It was an excellent day in the end. I have lots of pictures (but need to get round to putting them up) and the dressing up was definitely worthwhile, in much the same way that I think it is at Kentwell when parties come who have obviously made an effort to fit in with what’s going on. I still have very faint eye pencil marks on the backs of my legs – clearly it’s very tenacious stuff! 😆

We started off with an introduction from our guide, soon to become both headmaster and billeting officer, telling us that once we had got into the railway carriage we would all be in character and it would be a much more worthwhile day if we managed to stay in character from then on. Each child and several of the adults had been assigned a person to be, all of them real people who had been evacuated to Stibbington or Wansford or school teachers who had accompanied the children. J, K, L, 6 and A were all Wilsons, ages ranging from 16 to 7, while I was informed I should be Miss Winston (that’s what you get for dressing up!).

We followed our guide round the station to our train and boarded together, then he took a role call and introduced himself as the children’s new headmaster, Mr Stafford, and explained to them why they had been evacuated and what was to happen to them next. Alighting from the train we walked through the village, stopping at various places so that he could tell children where their billets were to be and a little about their host families. We heard about special paint on post boxes, which would turn black if there was a gas attack, saw cows “probably for the first time” and were told to look out for the black ones with a white stripe painted on them, then discussed the importance of being alert to the presence of strangers near the waterworks.The farmer’s house had no room for children, because it was already full of landgirls, while the vicar couldn’t take anyone in because he had airmen in the rectory, but there was a youth group there on a Sunday evening after church. Another house was being used to accommodate another sort of evacuee: old folk from Great Yarmouth, who were at risk because it was the last British town on the way back to Germany so any bombs not already dropped tended to be dumped there. We had to be quiet at Stibbington Hall because the convalescing airmen there needed their peace and quiet and we learned to listen out for the church bells, since they would only be rung should there be an invasion.

Eventually we arrived at the school, where we paused for a drink of water (tea for the grown-ups 🙂 ) and an apple, then sat and filled in identity cards, using information about the real people we were playing at being and the places they stayed. Then the children were given a choice of quiz sheets to fill in, based on the public information posters plastered on every wall, which encouraged them to have a good look around and think even more about what everyday life might have been like and what fears and concerns they would have had, had they really been there then.

After all that work it was time for lunch – most people, including us, had sandwiches wrapped in greaseproof or brown paper – and then a play in the schoolyard, with toys such as stilts and hoops, and a sandpit with sacks to be filled and placed around the Anderson shelter. Playtime over, the children were told to form two lines, girls one side and boys the other, in height order, and file into the classroom for their first lesson with their new teacher. The routine was strict: stand behind chairs until told to sit, then hang gas mask boxes on right side of chair back and hats on left and sit as silently as possible, arms folded. Most important things first: gas mask drill. We were shown the gas alarm (like a large football rattle) and the all clear bell and told that as soon as the alarm sounded the first priority was to put on masks and keep them on, come what may, until the all clear bell rang. Each desk had a gas mask in it and we were shown how to put them on then told to practise until it could be done smoothly. Mr Stafford sounded the gas alarm and we had four seconds to get masked up or be dead. Then he told us it was safe so several people removed their masks – only to be told that they were dead too, since the bell hadn’t yet been rung! It was deeply unpleasant wearing the masks (and these were only mock-ups of the real thing) and to have to wear them for real must have been awful.

Besides gas mask drill we listened to a message on the wireless from Princess Elizabeth, learned a song (It’s a long way to Tipperary), revised the meaning and drilled the spelling of words such as siren, evacuate, coupon and Government, then got out our pens and began to write them – one ink pot between two as ink was scarce. We had hardly begun when there was the sound of a plane overhead, then another, a quick rattle of gunfire and finally a siren. It was time to take shelter.

We all filed after Mr Stafford to a small, narrow, dark room with taped windows, where the children sat on a bench along one wall while Mr Stafford raised the morale by encouraging us to sing songs – first the one we’d just practised and then another some of the children already knew but many didn’t. Since it was based on Run Rabbit it was easy enough to pick up anyway and the Hitler verse made them grin 🙂 Songs sung, the all-clear still hadn’t sounded so Mr Stafford announced that lessons would have to continue in the air-raid shelter. Children took it in turns to spell the words they’d just learned, then to answer times tables questions – and were saved by the bell as the all-clear finally rang and we went back to queue outside the classroom once again.

More writing – and then an inspection to check for inky fingers – oops! Pens away and pencils out as it was time for Maths, which led to some careful cogitation as sums were done in columns of £ s and d rather than hundreds tens and units. Remembering how many d you could have before needing to bounce over to s (12) and how many s made a £ (20) was an excellent exercise in mental agility 😉 It promised to be even more interesting when he wrote up a multiplication sum, but not many had time to get that far. We might have to try it at home, I think…

We were nearing the end of our day at Stibbington, but it seemed there was a surprise in store as Mr Stafford was called from the room to go and collect the children’s new guardians. He came back apparently chatting to some people just outside and about to bring them into the classroom to meet us, then stopped and asked how the children were feeling. Emotions mentioned were fear, concern, nervousness, but also excitement. We came out of role and explored it a little more, as he confessed that there were no families there to meet them – but many admitted to having almost believed that there were. In fact, afterwards one mother said that her child had been disappointed to find that the day and the experience ended there. She had been quite ready to go off and spend a night with her new family!

Since it was incredibly hot and sunny, Mr S (now in his other persona as Richard) offered to take parents back to the station to collect their cars and save the children from having to walk back. This gave them an extra chance to play, so everyone was happy 😉 He also suggested a different route home, to avoid the southbound A1 which was still closed from a diesel spillage earlier in the day – much appreciated!